Tag Archives: perempuan



I know… I know it is a late post, but as I always say… better late than never. You could disagree with that, but let’s agree to disagree. Agree?

Yes. I am home. In this case I am now back in Norwich after a whole month holiday in Indonesia. You might ask me, what I have achieved during my whole month of doing nothing in my parents’ house. Of course you might. And I might answer: WISDOM.

I think “wisdom” sounds much better than “nothing… really”.

Alright… I did not really achieve nothing. Okay? I got something done. I had my hair cut, and dyed it purple (yay me!!), I met my family and some of my friends, and caught up with the latest news, I also had a coil contraception placed inside my tummy (stories about it — coming soon). I also did a little research and looked around the city and contemplating the “what if”.

The very what if we rarely mentioned before.

“What if Mr.Fix-It and I move to Indonesia?”

Of course it is silly considering today’s social and political situation in Indonesia. I really can’t see me living in a country where LGBT is still considered as illegal. I have been living here where people could be themselves without any kind of social punishment — for being themselves. I can’t see how can I live among people who condemn LGBT — even among them are some of my closest relatives (stories about it — coming soon).

But most of all, a month in Indonesia teaches me what it means to be home, or even… what home means for me.

People said that home is where the heart is. I believe so too. But what if you don’t know where your heart should be? My family is still in Indonesia. My parents, my sisters, my brother… my dogs. Life is much easier there as I could get stuff done without lifting my middle finger.  But… at the same time, my one and only beloved husband is here in Norwich. I am the queen of my own kitchen. I am the lady of my own house. My knitting projects are here… My heart is utterly confused.

How do I decide where home is?

Well… apparently it was quite simple. On the day I arrived in Norwich, after 10 minutes taxi ride, I found this:


It is stuck in my front door by my husband. When I saw it, I knew I was… HOME.


LGBT in Campuses, and Mirna’s Case


Our Minister of Research and Technology just released one of the dumbest statement I have ever heard from someone in his level — since the new government cabinet was set. I mean, seriously. He told the media that he banned the LGBT to enter universities. I mean… how? Although soon later he revised his statement to: “Banning the LGBT who make out and have sex in campuses” — which was even more laughable than the previous statement.

I am not sure how this LGBT in Campuses noises started. Really, I suspected from how uncanny the timing was — it has something to do with one of the hottest murder case in Indonesia today. The Murder of Mirna.

If you live abroad and probably can’t be bothered to subscribe to Indonesia’s media — and looking at our media, I don’t blame you at all– you might have missed this murder case. Mirna is a the name of the girl who died after drinking coffee in a popular coffee shop in one of the biggest high end malls in Jakarta. When Mirna died, she was accompanied by two of her friends, one of them J was her mate when she studied in Australia.

Police officer could not point a finger to anybody due to the “innocent until proven guilty” principal. But somehow for J, all fingers have pointed at her. I feel bad for her, especially if she is not guilty. I think many mainstream media, from online newspaper to national televisions have the responsibility to report a balance news– unfavourable, not tendentious, and unbiased opinion. But I found that the media was stirring the mud to gain more audience. That’s disgusting.

As the case got more and more audience, the stories and rumours got spread. One of the rumour was that the murder was carried out by J, because she was jealous that Mirna is now married — just married last December. The rumour also said that they were a couple when they studied together in Australia. And then, the criminalisation of LGBT sparked.

The old, outdated belief such as “homosexuals are mentally disturb and would kill anyone when they got jealous rage” reappeared in the media. Forgetting the facts that there are more murder carried out by heterosexuals than gays. The uneducated comments on social media sprung and got out of hand, and nothing that media did about it. I thought it was their job to educate the people, apparently gaining clicks is more important than giving facts.

In my own opinion, the rumour that Mirna and J had a lesbian relationship when they were studying just fuelled the bigots rage, and paranoia that Indonesian students are now aware of the freedom to embrace their sexuality. Some cheap far right online newspaper in Indonesia even described LGBT as an epidemic phenomenon attacking our education system, while throwing in some religious remarks to add in to the bigotry.

Now, universities — one of our last bastion to fight against ignorance, intolerance, and bigotry is under a massive attack. Not only that the minister has said something that has undermined the effort of our academia to educate people about sexuality, this issue has opened the pandora box. The members of the Support Group and Research Center On Sexuality Study in Universitas Indonesia, one of the biggest and best university in Indonesia, is now being threatened personally. Some of them even being disowned just because he wants to help other people.

I don’t think I should make any conclusion for today’s entry. I don’t have to. You know where I stand and I am standing still. I am not sure how long until our country could catch up with the others, but for now I am doubtful that that day will come soon.

What a gloomy day to be an Indonesian.


The Bun In The Oven!!!!


Well… Before you get too excited about this, it is not my bun, and definitely not my oven. But yes, we have a bun in the oven right now.

I have to say that I am extremely excited with my sister’s pregnancy. And I am so glad that I took this visit home this time, just in time for my sister’s first USG photo. You know what? I was the one who saw the little spot in my sister’s uterus. No. That sounds creepy, but that’s the truth. I was the first one to know for sure that she is pregnant.

She’s entering the 5th week now, so she is still adjusting. She’s having the usual pregnancy symptom such as tummy cramp, and little but somewhat constant nausea. Although, I think she is enjoying it as she is expecting this too. It was a really nice surprise as only last month she started the program to treat her PCOS.

I am just happy she is pregnant.

My husband said that for someone who doesn’t want to be pregnant myself, I sound so excited for my sister’s pregnancy. But.. why shouldn’t I? Just because I don’t want to be pregnant, it doesn’t mean everyone else shouldn’t be pregnant. I am not bitter for choosing my own childfree path, so why can’t I be okay with other people’s life decision?

The way I see it: I am happy for not being a mum and my sisters are happy for me for my decision, And now my sister is happy that she is about to be a mum, and I am happy for that decision. I mean, it is not that difficult to understand how someone could be happy that the people that they care about is happy. Happiness for someone else’s happiness. That is quite simple really.

After all, there are more good things come out from this situation. One, my parents are now no longer pushing me to have babies, as now they have a grandchild on the way. Two, since my sister and my brother in law are smart people, we will create a baby with good genes — our contribution to the gene pool.

Ah… time for more and more things to celebrate.

Okay, that pictura above is a little bit over the top… But… In the end, I would like to congratulate my sister and my brother in law for the pregnancy. I hope that the next months would be easier for my sister, and that the delivery would be smooth and safe.


P.S. I think congratulating a pregnant mum with alcoholic drink is a little bit taking the piss…

No Uterus, No Opinion


** disclaimer: lots of swear words, so if you don’t like it you can get the fuck out**

One of the reasons why I would like to spend weeks in Indonesia is because I want to see a Gynaecologist. I have been waiting for about three months to get a coil inserted, but I haven’t got one until today. And I am tired of taking pills. It has changed my mood, changed my body, and I just found out today that I have gained at least 8 kgs. I know that waiting is not an option for me, I just want to get this over with and move on to the better part of my life.

So I saw a Gynaecologist today. Told him that I want to get a coil inserted. I have done my homework, done my research. I know the pro and cons, and I know the possible pain and also possible side effects. I know almost everything I need to know before I see the doctor. And I bloody know that that bloody thing can be installed inside my fuckin womb any time of the day. ANY FUCKING TIME.

and this is the link: https://www.plannedparenthood.org/learn/birth-control/iud

This so called Gynaecologist is my mum’s doctor. It is said that he is one of the best in my hometown. Maybe. Maybe it is because he is one of the oldest, so he has got more experience in his hand. But now you have a clue that he’s probably not the best for me.

He is a guy.

He is old.

Old guy doesn’t know what a woman my age needs, and wants. I WANT a copper coil to be stuck in my womb, because I NEED to make sure I am not going to get pregnant. And he doesn’t understand it. He kept mentioning that I am not 30, and that I might want to have a child first before going ahead with the idea of contraception. Why the fuck I am seeing him for a bloody IUD if I want to have a fucking child?

I am fumed now. So pardon my language.

He kept asking about my husband and whether he wants a child or not. Why the fuck everybody asks about his decision? This is my fucking womb and I make the fucking decision. Can’t his bloody brain process that fucking little information? Of course not. My womb, my decision. My womb, my decision. It will be my decision if I would like to let a life sucking parasites growing inside me for a nine fucking months or not. Not people around me. Especially not men.

I started to realised that the lights in the end of the tunnel might be the train coming towards me when the doctor told me that he could only do it when I am having period. I know my request to him to make me infertile is futile because I know he is lying. I CAN get the coil inserted any times of the month. Any fucking time. It might be a little bit painful, but I knew it already.

He also emphasised on how painful it could be when it is inserted to someone who has not yet have a child. I knew it too. Like I said, I have done my homework. Afterall, talking about pain… giving birth to babies is more painful than any coil insertion, I suppose?

I asked about a more permanent solution — fertilisation. And he just rejected the idea outright. Maybe the light in the end of the tunnel is really a train.

I went home with horrible feeling. I had some much hope. I have never had any thought of self harming until the day the doctor sent me home without any assurance on when I could get the coil done for me. I thought of stabbing myself in the stomach to damage the womb permanently, or the ovary, or whatever, so that the doctor would have to take it away from me. I don’t want it. I want it go away.

So… What am I going to do now?

I am not going to take more pills. And, I am going to find a way to get myself impregnable. One way or another. And if there’s any one of you have anything against this decision, I have a knock knock game for you.

Me: Knock! Knock!
You: Who’s there?
Me: Nona
You: Nona who?
Me: Nona your business you motherfucker…


Book Review: Maryam


Title: Maryam
Author: Okky Madasari
Language: Bahasa Indonesia
Format: Paperback

After her divorce, Maryam decided to go back to her home town in an island of Lombok — a place she has never set foot for so many years. Little did she know that everything there has changed, and not for the better — especially for her people.

This is the second Okky Madasari’s book I have ever read. Entrok was the first one, and this incredible author has already got my attention.

I have to admit that Maryam is not as deep as Entrok was. I did not expect it to be. I have learned that not many books would be able to live up to the level where Entrok has been. But, Maryam, obviously has a special place in my bookshelves.

Madasari daringly picked one of the most sensitive theme in Indonesia — the religious intolerance, especially to the minority groups such as (in this novel) the Ahmadiyya. It was obviously a difficult subject, and I could feel that she was tiptoeing while trying to be as factual as possible. It is hard not to offend the hardliners if she wanted to make a statement. But that’s the problem: trying to tiptoe around the subject while being factual couldn’t work. It has become somewhere in the middle.

Apart from what I have mentioned above, I love the way Madasari did not try to sugar coat the reality as well. The life of a divorcee, the cultural clashes, the filial piety, and the social responsibility was described really well in this novel. I was so absorbed in the storyline, which Madasari has made so simple — even with flashbacks.

The writing style was superb. It was flowing and it was clear and detailed. It did not try to be highbrow. yet it did not dumb down either. It was clear and informative, but it is still a very entertaining fiction. Obviously, it was a good read as I finish the whole book in one sitting while having a 12 hour flight home.

Would I recommend this book? Why wouldn’t I? I know that this one was written in Bahasa Indonesia, and if you don’t speak Bahasa it would be a little bit troublesome. But fret not, my dear readers because this book is already translated in English with a different title: “The Outcast”. So yes, I will still recommend this book.

I rate this 4/5 ❤

Kitchen And Women in Cultural Discourse


Despite the fact that percentage-wise there were more famous male celebrity chefs on telly than female chefs, kitchen has always been associated with women. The never ending, and a little bit tired joke about sending women back or chaining them to the kitchen doesn’t help either. I don’t mind being in the kitchen here in my house in the UK, but somehow I feel slightly uneasy to visit the kitchen of our family home in Solo.

I did not understand why. I thought it was just merely because we had a couple of helpers to do all the cooking and cleaning, and our grandmother was pretty strict about who’s being the queen of the kitchen — that I tend to leave the kitchen alone. But I realised that that was not it after being unemployed for some times and spending many hours watching architecture and house moving programme on telly.

I realised that kitchen functions quite differently here in the UK and in Indonesia.

In the UK, kitchen is considered as the heart of the house. It is something to brag about. It is located usually quite close to the main entrance or just next to the garden. It is the place with the highest activity rate: breakfast bar, cooking, coffee-chatting, etc. You would not think twice to invite your friend to see your kitchen, showing off your new hob or just for to get a cuppa. You love your kitchen, everybody loves your kitchen.

In Indonesia, kitchen is a hidden place. You don’t speak kitchen in the living room. It is in the back of the house, where all the dark secret of the house is kept. You would not ever invite friends to have a chat in the kitchen. You would not let her see your new shiny oven, because all your friends need to know is that you can serve them seven dishes meal in the dining room. And that’s it.

How it’s supposed to reflect the society attitude towards women then? It’s pretty obvious isn’t it?

Whenever kitchen is associated with women, how the family’s attitude towards kitchen is very relevant. My husband would never mind coming in and out the kitchen. He wouldn’t mind washing the dishes, and sometimes even getting me a cup of coffee when I was too comfy in the sofa with my knitting. My father, on the other hand, has never set foot in the kitchen since we finished building the house and the kitchen started to function as a kitchen.

The kitchen also reflects how women see their role themselves. When they cook they see it as their duty to provide, and the family has taken for granted the special skills needed to process the raw vegetables to yummy in the tummy. But here, everyday… every single day, Mr. Fix It would thank me for every meal, every cake, and bites of biscuits. Kitchen is where challenges, achievements and fun happen.

In a more modern Indonesia, houses has an open kitchen, but women don’t cook as often. The attitude towards women has shifted with it as well as their role in providing for the family and the households. When we lived in an apartment complex, we ordered delivery more often than we cook, and it was just the norm for every young modern families living there.

In communal place such as student dormitory, kitchen is where the gossip and drama is expected to emerge. It’s where you show off power to tell people who rules the student hall. Although that’s not always the case. The kitchen would be in the middle. It shows how equal everybody was (or should be) in the community.

Isn’t it amazing how kitchen has changed and shaped our perspective of the world? Of ourselves? And wouldn’t it answer my hesitation to start chop chop where I was in Indonesia? Why wouldn’t you take a look in your kitchen and tell me how’s your kitchen has influenced your life?

The Ashley Madison Meltdown


Actually, I was going to title this article with “How The Ashley Madison Meltdown Affects People’s Outlook In Marriage As An Institution”. But it does sound too pretentious, doesn’t it? Well, I have to make do with the current title then.

Right. So, what is Ashley Madison? If you haven’t heard about it at all, you might want to start google, or if you can’t be bothered at all, I would make it a little bit easier for you by presenting you this video:

How am I for being extra generous today?

Ashley Madison is a dating site, mainly dedicated to people who are married to have something on the side. It has millions and millions of follower, but what made it to the headline is when a hacker broke in and stole personal information about the members, and gave it away in the dark web.

The Ashley Madison Meltdown, I should say.

It contains the personal information of — obviously — married people, including — allegedly — people from the UK government. There were at least one hundred UK Government email addresses found in the millions of data for public to see online. Not surprisingly, it has been ruining people’s lives.

I am not going to — of course — discuss the moral message, nor the motives behind this data stealing activity. I just wanted to know how people has seen their marriage now.

Mr. Fix It and I have never seen marriage as a sacred bond between us and god. We don’t bloody care about the sanctity of the religious mumbo jumbo, we did what we did just to make my mum satisfied that she thought she has kept her promise to her god. But those mumbo jumbo, the threat of being burned in hell is what kept many bored couple who hates each other from either killing each other or getting a divorce.

I wonder how many insecure couple would start wondering if their partner has been in Ashley Madison. One Australian lady called the radio station just to ask if her husband was on the list. She was pretty upset when she found out that he was. At least she was pretty brave to actually go and ask to get to know the truth. But, how many worried husbands or wives are now just sitting there in front of their iPad, reading the articles and thought, “what would I do if my partner was in that list?”

What would I do?

I would be surprised of course. I would ask him why he never told me that he was in that website. Obviously. Would I be angry if he told me that he has joined that kind of website? I don’t think so. Here’s the thing.

My husband and I are quite open in talking about the possibilities of extramarital sexual adventure. We talked about this before and we agreed that it might or might not happen, but we would tell each other if we are looking. I would not be angry if he joined this website to seek for a thrill, but I would be pretty upset if he wouldn’t tell me in advance.

Both of us still kept our dating site profiles, and we know each other profiles and once in a while used it as a tool to relight the fire and get the spark again. I would send him a message there just to make his day after a long time at work. He would do a creepy role play and send me a message there just for a giggle. We are best friends as we are partners and lovers. And I think that’s why I have never once questioned if he has got any secret affairs behind my back.

I think that’s what a marriage should be.

I know that I have only been married for just over a year, but I have seen many crumbling down marriage. I have been approached by some married male friends for a sexual favour — in which I always turned down for a very personal reason — despite of their happy marriages. Yes, people with an affair are not necessarily an unhappy one.

People are bored. They don’t call marriage as “settling down” for a reason. When you are settled for too long, you would start to feel the itch to move around. And when your partner don’t move with you, there would be some other bored people to get around with. Hence the affair.

Probably, it was the affair that keeps the marriage together. It could be one night thing, but some people comes home with less thing to think about. Husband is tired and old and not wanting to do anything else than watch telly and then go to sleep — find someone to go travelling with and get a hot steamy sessions so that you don’t have to come home and nag for your lack of self fulfilment. Wife is always covered in puke and poo as you just had twins — find a pair of massive boobs to fondle and a hole to poke, so you’re too tired to do anything else or complain when you come home.

Or you can talk.

Problem is… some people take things a little bit personally. Especially nowadays when people do take suggestions as blabla-shaming. “I know you could eat whatever you want, but you haven’t stop eating since your get up in the morning” is body shaming or fat shaming. “Sorry your mascara is melting, do you need a tissue” is make up shaming. “Do you want to go jogging with me” is another body or fat shaming. If you could not tell your partner that she/he needs to take a shower (because it’s an odour shaming) then you shouldn’t be surprised if you find yourself filling the form and writing an Ashley Madison’s profile.

Gah… It’s getting too long now. I don’t think anyone would read anything longer than this. I know that there are other things that count, but for now I will leave it at that…

Anger Management


Ada alasan kenapa entry kali ini saya masukkan dalam kategori spesial. Tumben-tumbenan saya dapat pesenan posting dari seorang teman, untuk membuat entry tentang Anger Management, yang tentu saja ditulis dengan sotoy ala bybyq. Ya iya lah, kalau mau info tentang anger management yang beneran pasti nanyanya sama yang profesional di bidang psikologi, bukan sama blogger pengangguran kaya saya, kan?

Katakanlah, semua ini berawal dari seorang mutual friends yang kami kenal tidak berapa lama yang lalu di dunia maya. Cerita tentang orang ini mengingatkan saya kepada banyak kejadian tentang orang-orang yang ada di sekitar saya. Mengingatkan saya, bahwa people can be so mean sometimes, dan sering kali mereka bisa menjadi begitu jahat justru kepada orang yang paling mereka sayangi. Dan kalau ditanyakan kepada saya kenapa mereka melakukan itu, saya akan dengan jujur menjawab bahwa saya tidak tahu.

Tahun lalu, untuk proyek tugas akhirnya, adik saya Mon membuat proyek mengenai Woman Crisis Center. Saat mengerjakan tugas itu, Mon mendapatkan banyak informasi dan data mengenai seperti apa Woman Crisis Center, dan mengapa perlu ada Woman Crisis Center. Pada kenyataanya meskipun sudah ada undang-undang mengenai Kekerasan Dalam Rumah Tangga, tetapi masih sangat sedikit dari korban yang mau melaporkan diri, dengan banyak alasan masing-masing.

Dari data tersebut, Mon mengatakan bahwa para korban, sering kembali berulang-ulang masuk ke dalam siklus yang sama. Mon mengatakan itu juga terjadi pada salah seorang sahabatnya sendiri yang menjalani sebuah abusive relationship. Si korban akan berulang-ulang mengalami jatuh bangun sampai akhirnya kepercayaan dirinya runtuh dalam artian sulit percaya bahwa dia sebenarnya worth untuk dicintai dengan cara yang normal. Dalam keadaan ini korban akan menerima kembali pasangan yang kasar ini, setelah permintaan maaf yang tulus dan berbulan-bulan dengan kelakuan baik, yang kenyataannya kebiasaan kasar itu bisa kembali lagi.

Bukan berarti pasangan yang dikatakan kasar dan jahat ini tidak mencintai pasangannya. Beberapa malah mengatakan mereka tidak tahu bagaimana caranya menyayangi seseorang tanpa berbuat kasar. Masalahnya adalah mereka sering kali tidak tahu di mana batasan ‘kasar’ dan ‘salah’. Menurut undang-undang, bahkan penyerangan verbal sudah dapat dimasukkan dalam kategori Kekerasan Dalam Rumah Tangga. Jadi, kalau pasangan mulai mencaci maki, mengeluarkan kata kasar dan bahkan mulai menyebut pasangannya dengan nama-nama yang tidak pantas, maka dia sudah dianggap melanggar UU KDRT.

Sayangnya, konseling yang diadakan di banyak tempat hanyalah ditujukan untuk membantu korban, bukan pelakunya, sedangkan menurut saya, mata rantai ini harus diputus di pelakunya. Korban mungkin saja move on dan menemukan orang lain, tapi pelakunya akan bisa mencari korban-korban baru, terutama kalau mereka tidak tahu bahwa ada yang salah dengan tindakan mereka memperlakukan pasangan mereka selama ini. Dan saya melihat banyak contoh.

Pelaku kekerasan di dalam rumah tangga menurut saya memiliki gangguan jiwa. Saya tidak mengatakan dia kelainan jiwa atau sakit jiwa, tapi saya yakin ada gangguan pada kejiwaannya. Entah dia memiliki sifat dominan yang terlalu berlebihan (dimana segala sesuatu yang sifatnya berlebihan itu tidak baik), atau dia memiliki rasa insecure berlebihan yang membuat dia harus melindungi diri dan keluarganya dengan ancaman baik fisik maupun verbal. Mungkin saja itu muncul dari masa kecil yang penuh kekerasan dari orang tuanya sehingga dia merasa bahwa kekerasan adalah jalan untuk menunjukkan afeksi kepada orang yang disayangi.

Kadang saya suka kesal pada orang tua yang mengatakan, “mama mukul kamu karena mama sayang sama kamu, mama nggak mau kamu berakhir jadi anak jalanan, jadi mama menghukum kamu dengan memukul”. Saya tidak suka mereka menanamkan ide bahwa “memukul” adalah tanda sayang. Bahkan mereka tidak mengatakan “maaf” setelahnya.

Saya merasa pelaku kekerasan ini (verbal maupun fisik) butuh Anger Management. Mereka juga membutuhkan konseling untuk mengontrol rasa marah itu supaya tidak muncul dalam bentuk yang destruktif. Saya mengenal banyak orang yang memiliki emosi yang tidak stabil. Saya yakin banyak seniman memiliki emosi yang bergolak-golak dengan mood yang selalu berubah-ubah. Tapi saya tahu, semakin seseorang melampiaskan kemarahannya dalam bentuk yang destruktif, makin buruk efeknya untuk dirinya sendiri dan orang-orang di sekitarnya.

Mumpung lagi membicarakan tentang hal ini, ada yang tahu nggak tempat konseling untuk anger management di Jakarta?

Sumpah Saya Bukan Peramal


Saya lupa kapan tepatnya saya punya bakat nge-jinx. Kata orang, mulut saya ‘bau’. Bukan dalam artian saya malas gosok gigi, tapi karena saya sering mengatakan sesuatu (yang kesannya asal-asalan) tapi terus jadi kenyataan. Beberapa kali terjadi, dan membuat beberapa orang merasa dirugikan.

Saya sendiri yakin bahwa saya bukan penyihir, dan saya tidak pernah melakukan praktik-praktik perdukunan, yang membuat kata-kata saya menjadi kenyataan. Saya juga bukan peramal, saya tidak bisa membaca masa depan (dan masa lalu). Saya juga tidak melakukan praktik-praktik pencarian pesugihan yang membuat saya menjadi sakti dengan kata-kata saya. Dan saya yakin saya tidak punya kata-kata bertuah yang membuat itu menjadi kenyataan. Pokoknya, kalau sampai kata-kata yang saya ucapkan berubah menjadi kenyataan, saya yakinkan kepada semuanya bahwa itu tidak ada hubungannya dengan hal yang mistis-mistis.

Oh… saya sudah pernah bilang kalau saya nggak percaya sama yang kaya begituan kan?

Dan… Oh… Nama saya bukan Paul, dan saya tidak bertentakel delapan.

Dan nama saya bukan Mani.

Saya manusia.

Dan, meskipun tebakan saya tentang pemenang piala dunia menjadi kenyataan… Saya yakinkan bahwasanya, saya bukan Deddy Corbuzier.


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Panggil Saya Bitchbyq…



Sepertinya sudah berabad-abad sejak terakhir saya ngetik blog dengan menggunakan enam jari (saya memang nggak bisa ngetik dengan 10 jari, sedangkan gaya mengetik 11 jari sudah basi). Akhirnya saya bisa mengistirahatkan jempol saya barang sejenak, karena saya sudah berhasil mendapatkan koneksi internet saya kembali.

Apakah saya ganti provider? Tentu tidak! Bwek… saya masih mau yang murah ini, apalagi saya sudah berhasil meluapkan emosi saya di counter layanan pelanggan di salah satu mall di dekat tempat di mana saya tinggal. Jadi tidak ada masalah. Lalu kenapa saya harus disebut bitchbyq? *maniacal laughter misterius*

Yap… saya bener-bener berlaku menyebalkan tadi. Bukan tanpa alasan tentunya, tapi karena saya baru menyadari bahwa saya ini salah sepenuhnya. Mungkin CS yang terima telepon pengaduan itu memang ngomong seperti kaset rusak, tapi mereka nggak ada apa-apanya dibanding sama customer service yang saya temui hari ini. Buat saya, CS di telepon kemarin terdengar seperti bawang putih, dan yang tadi saya temui adalah si bawang merah. Dan saya ga doyan bawang.

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