Happy birthday to me!

Why is birthday such a big deal for women?

1. They represent your number.

You start to matter if your number is in two digits (Sorry kids. Stop reading this before you’re corrupted. On second thought, please do. You don’t have the mental capacity anyway).

If your first digist is 1, we have to tolerate you a lot, which is a good thing for you since you can get away with most things. Like screaming at pretty-looking Korean boyband. Or eating full meals five times a day because you’re still growing (upwards). Damn you teenagers!

If your first digit is 2, you’re allowed to be stubborn, restless, romantic, mellow, indecisive and every thing in the list of early signs of psychosomatic disorder. We get it. You’re constantly in search of yourself, finding your place and worth in this world. Yada yada yada.

If your first digit is 3, you’re now a charming woman with a mysterious smile. Although you’re just avoiding excessive facial expressions leading to wrinkles and visible laughing lines which are still there when you’re frowning. The irony! And the love handles. Sigh. Make sure you already have a lover to handle you before they are there. Get it?

2. Tick tock

I almost feel sorry for my eggs. They have been working non-stop for 240 months without any recess. If they are workers in Unions, I’m pretty sure I had my ass sued and out of business long time ago.

3. Man and kids

Not necessarily in that order. The latter can be the reason you have the first. It can be a blessing, or a curse.

Once they are in the picture, on your birthdays you just realize how fast time flies, leaving you behind. You lose track of yours and focus on your little ones’ numbers (and your ‘little one’s’ if your partner/husband is considerably younger than you). You feel as if time has slipped away and you lose a bit of yourself with each year passing you by.

If they are not yet in the picture, on your birthdays you just realize how fast time flies, leaving you behind. You and your friend are the same age. She’s mother of two and expecting her third. You? Zip. Nada. If you two were in a football match, your score is 0-3, which means you’d better pray really really hard for a miracle to come. That you would score 3 goals at least in the remaining time to win. You feel as if time has slipped away and you lose a bit of yourself with each year passing you by.

I’m stopping at 3. That’s my first digit next year. Happy 29th birthday to me ๐Ÿ˜‰ And I am 29 until further notice ๐Ÿ˜€

Rebel Without A Cause

Have you, for once in your life, thought how similar or dissimilar you are to your parents?

Your parents are among the first teachers slash philosophers you had in your life. Parenting is one tough call. Like Jesse in Before Sunrise said: Everybody’s parents fucked them up. Rich kids parents gave them too much. Poor kids, not enough. You know, too much attention, not enough attention. They either left them or they stuck around and taught them the wrong things.

No matter how hard you try to be a good parent, your children will hate you in some ways. They grow up taking mental notes on everything you taught them. When you deny your children access to television/games you think it’s the right thing to do. But you don’t know they think you embarrass them because they can’t join their friends discussion about the latest episode of Naruto or any cool games. Kids are vicious. Nerdy kids with no access to TV and games are not going to make a lot of friends. Their confidence may be shaken up. Hahaha… dilemmatic right? Thank God I don’t have children………………..yet ๐Ÿ˜‰

Most of my life I’ve been known as a little miss goody goody. I did most things my parents told me to do. I did my homework, I never throw tantrums, I studied hard, I never asked mommy to buy expensive toys, you would find me in my room at night because I never went out to those ‘cool places to hang out’. I didn’t even date a guy until I was 23. When I was a highschooler, my parents said ‘Wait until you are in the college and you can be friendly with boys.’ When I was in my freshman year, they changed their minds and told me to wait until I graduate. I said okay. No big deal. What did I see in those immature, needy creatures with silly haircut anyway? They were just a bunch of losers.

But somewhere inside of me, I resist. God knows, I resist hard. My father wanted me to become a swimming athlete. He said that way I would be able to travel to foreign places, I may even win a scholarship to study overseas. He thought it was easy. He put me to the daily training since I was almost 7. Years later I started to hate the water I was in. For starters, I was not good enough. And… I just wanted to play with my friends instead of kicking my ass in the water for the entire afternoon. I was so unhappy that I cried everyday in the pool. Finally my mom saw how miserable I was and talked my father out. He reluctantly accepted my decision to quit swimming.

With my mother things were easier. Except for one thing. She was kind of obsessed with the idea that I should develop my own career. She doesn’t want me to end up like her, being a housewife. After a while, I grew tired of her expectations. Why can’t I settle down after I find a good man to marry? What’s wrong with being a devoted wife and mother? One more thing, she was very melancholic and helplessly romantic. My parents’ marriage was not approved by my mother’s family. Her father (my grandfather) even kicked her out of the house because she refused to marry her cousin (okay..this sounds very much like a storyline but it happened for real). With so much drama (d’oohhhh…), they got married and started their new life with nothing. When I was old enough to understand why my mother’s family never paid us a visit, my parents explained to us (me and my sister). My sister was kind of drawn into this ‘fairytale lovestory’ but I was more rational. If I had been in my mother’s shoes, I would never never have done the same thing. Jeez… marrying someone just because you love him sounds more than speculative to me. It was insane!

As I grow older and get stronger to put up a fight, I’ve enjoyed my sweet revenge. With my own money I buy things I want. I don’t care if they don’t last long (against my mother’s virtue of buying only things that last). As long as they are pretty and catch my eyes, I don’t care if I have to spend half of my salary just to have it. I hung out with my friends at Java Jazz Festival until 2 a.m. (against my parents’ liking of 9 o’ clock curfew for girls, yeah right plisssss dehhhh… :p ). On the other hand, I find myself more agreeable with them. For instance, I understand my father’s dream of having a daughter swim at the Olympics. That would be wonderful. Wait..more than wonderful. If I can win a gold medal and have ‘Indonesia Raya’ played in an international arena, it would be my proudest moment. I may also have studied abroad. At the very least, I can mention something I am very good at. Unlike now ๐Ÿ˜ฆ I am not good enough with anything. Ouch! Reality bites!

On the housewife subject, I am now practically following my mother’s dream simply because ‘the good man’ I was talking about is nowhere near me now ๐Ÿ˜› I used to think it’s easy…A good man with a job and good attitude will be enough for me to tie the knot. It turns out not easy as it seems. There were some guys who fit the criteria and they court me and I couldn’t do it. I couldn’t be in a relationship with a man I didn’t love. God, this is very stupid. Where have all my logics gone? Shoot!!! I become more like my mother, the love guru. Yuck!

One last straw:ย  my parents were right when they said I had to be good at Math. If only I had listened to them more intently and studied more seriously (ignoring the butterflies in my stomach every time they flash me calculus), it would have been me that works at Hewlett-Packard in Singapore ๐Ÿ˜‰ (hehehe..ini sekedar contoh…please don’t mind me) Damn… I hate when they are right!

How about you? Are you doing the opposite of your parents’ expectations or instead, living your life by their rules?