Selasa, 31 Juli 2012

My Holiday

LIBURAN……..
Tahun Ajaran baru berarti liburan baru juga….. dan kali ini liburan aku paling menyenangkan dibanding dengan liburan-liburan yang terdahulu. Karna kali ini aku di ajak papa ke Bali alias pantai Kute alias kumpulan para orang bule. Bayangin aja aku tuh ga pernah mimpi kesana eh sekarang malah diajak ikut kesana… oh god I don’t belive that… ternyata papa lagi ada kerjaan yang mengharuskan papa ke Bali dan papa mengajak aku untuk menemaninya.
Saat pagi tiba ketika aku membuka mata sudah ada di bali ehm….. aroma balinya dasyat euy…. Dan rencana yang semalem papa bilang ke aku akan mengajak ke paperan lukisan karena ,Hari ini papa lagi libur ketemu klien-nya.
Aku bangun langsung kearah dapur untuk membuat orange juice tanpa cuci muka dan gosong gigi terdahulu. Dengan wajah yang kesal aku membaca pesan yang tertempel di kulkas :
“To : Aprilia
Ma’afkan papa karena ada rapat mendadak dengan klien, diatas meja kerja papi ada undangan pameran lukisan, datanglah mungkin bisa menghibur harimu disini. I’m realy sorry.”
Papi
Kontan aku memberhentikan makanan yang yang dimulut ketika aku membaca pesan tersebut. “Uh, sebel papa seenaknya batalin janji aja” gerutu ku. Tak henti-henti aku mengerutu dalam hati sebel, kesel dan benci papa .Ku ambil undangan pameran dan kulihat waktu pameran lukisan tersebut diadakan ternyata pukul 5 sore. Ingin ku sobek karna kekesalan ku pada papa yang telah membatalkan rencananya sendiri, tapi ku pikir lagi ya sudahlah ku datangi saja toh aku juga tidak ada kegiatan hari ini.
Waktu menunjukkan pukul 4 sore dan aku masih males siap-siap untuk pergi ke pameran lukisan tesebut. Dengan gerakan yang males aku akhirnya ganti pakaian untuk datang ke pameran tersebut. Ketika hendak aku keluar apartemen bel pintu pun berbunyi dan ku buka ternyata supir papa datang dan telah di suruh papa mengantarkan aku ke tempat pameran tersebut.
Dalam mobil penasaran kutanya pada supir papi “papa sedang apa?” Tanya ku.
“Tuan sedang rapat non.” Jawabnya
“oh…” dalam hatiku menjawab ternyata papa benar-benar sibuk, sadarku.
Supir menyadarkan lamunan ku “sudah sampai non..”
“Oh, iya pak. Makasih.” Jawabku
Nona, saya tinggal ya, kata tuan jika acaranya selesai telepon tuan karena nanti tuan rencana jemput nona.” Jelas supir pada ku.
“Ok. Makasi pak.” Jawabku mengerti apa maksud supir tersebut.
Dengan langkah yang bimbang aku masuk ke pameran tersebut, dan ternyata didalam pameran semua lukisannya indah sekali sampai aku terkesima sekali melihat lukisan-lukisan yang dipajang. Dengan wajah yang serius aku melihat semua lukisan yang ada. Tanpa sadar ada yang menginjak kaki ku.
“Aduh….” Teriak ku sakit.
‘Ups, I’m so sorry.” Ucapan maaf orang tersebut.
Dan aku tidak mau mendengar maafnya karena yang terpenting kaki ku sakit sekali. Dan ketika aku ingin marah dan menatap wajahnya.
“oh, my god!!”
Ternyata yang menginjak kaki ku adalah Steven William . Kontan wajahku langsung memerah.
“Maaf ya, saya tidak sengaja menginjak kaki kamu, maaf banget ya.!!!” Ucapan maaf steven pada ku yang kedua kalinya.
Dibenakku “seorang Steven William, aktor favorit ku ada didepan mata ku dan meminta maaf pada ku… oh, my god, papa thanks telah memberikan undangan ini !!!”
“hai….hai…hai…” ucapan Steven yang menghentakan lamunanku.
“oh, iya… it’s ok. Ga apa-apa ko. Steven William ya…?” dengan senyum 45 aku menyapanya. Akhirnya kita sama-sama melihat lukisan tersebut.
Dan atas kesalahannya itu, Steven ingin menebusnya dengan makan malam di kafe. Ku telpon papa agar tidak usah menjemputku karna aku akan diantar oleh temanku.
Di kafe kami saling cerita dan aku lebih banyak bertanya, ternyata Steven sedang ada syuting dibali.
Sesampainya kami di pintu apatemen, ku ucapkan terima kasih telah mengajakku makan malam.
Komunikasi kita pun berlanjut, Steven mengajakku nonton dia dilokasi syuting di Bali, kami juga sering makan siang bareng dan menghabiskan waktu dipantai bersama personil kru lainnya.
Hari terakhirku dibali, kami habiskan dipantai seharian penuh bersama-sama. Hatiku sedih karna hari ini hari terakhir kita menghabiskan waktu di pulau dewata Bali. Tapi kami dipantai pun berfoto dan tak lupa bermain dan bernyanyi bersama anggota kru lainnya. Waktu telah menjelang malam pulanglah kami dari pantai dan Steven pun mengantarku pulang sampai apartemenku. Ku ucapkan terima kasih karena telah menemani hari-hari liburanku di Bali.
Dia mengacak-acak rambutku dan ia berucap “Kau adalah sahabat yang tak pernah ku lupakan.”
Tanpa sadar air mataku membasahi pipiku dan Steven pun membasuh dengan tangannya.
Dan ini lah liburan panjang yang mengesankan dalam hidup ku yang mungkin akan aku kenang seumur hidupku. Liburan terindah yang pernah aku alami.
The end

Minggu, 18 Maret 2012


















 About Taylor Swift http://www.taylorswift.com/about

Hi, I'm Taylor. I've been alive for 22 years now, and I finally have my own kitchen. I'm very excited about this, and generally excited by anything else that falls into the "cute" or "cozy" categories. I learned to play guitar when I was twelve from this guy named Ronnie who came over to fix my parents' computer. I like quilts. But that's probably because I'm always freezing cold. I LOVE Nashville. That's where I live, when I'm lucky enough to be there. I love the town so much, I sometimes feel like I should just roll the windows down in my car (nicknamed the Toyoat. Because it's a Toyota) and scream "I LOVE THIS TOWN" loudly out the windows. That wouldn't be weird, right? Every time I try and wink at someone, I mess it up and end up scaring people. My lucky number always has been and always will be 13. It pops up in front of me in the most obvious and undeniable ways, but only when something good is about to happen. I'm a Sagittarius. I think that means I'm always looking for something new. It also means I have a Christmas-themed birthday party every year. I love bright colors and things that make reality seem more whimsical than it is. I have a collection of ribbons and headbands, and I love them all the same. I over-think and over-plan and over-organize. I've been like this since I was a baby, before I was gigantically tall and over-talkative.

These days, I've been trying to classify my thoughts into two categories: "Things I can change," and "Things I can't." It seems to help me sort through what to really stress about. But there I go again, over-planning and over-organizing my over-thinking! I write songs about my adventures and misadventures, most of which concern love. Love is a tricky business. But if it wasn't, I wouldn't be so enthralled with it. Lately I've come to a wonderful realization that makes me even more fascinated by it: I have no idea what I'm doing when it comes to love. No one does! There's no pattern to it, except that it happens to all of us, of course. I can't plan for it. I can't predict how it'll end up. Because love is unpredictable and it's frustrating and it's tragic and it's beautiful. And even though there's no way to feel like I'm an expert at it, it's worth writing songs about -- more than anything else I've ever experienced in my life.

I've apparently been the victim of growing up, which apparently happens to all of us at one point or another. It's been going on for quite some time now, without me knowing it. I've found that growing up can mean a lot of things. For me, it doesn't mean I should become somebody completely new and stop loving the things I used to love. It means I've just added more things to my list. Like for example, I'm still beyond obsessed with the winter season and I still start putting up strings of lights in September. I still love sparkles and grocery shopping and really old cats that are only nice to you half the time. I still love writing in my journal and wearing dresses all the time and staring at chandeliers. But some new things I've fallen in love with -- mismatched everything. Mismatched chairs, mismatched colors, mismatched personalities. I love spraying perfumes I used to wear when I was in high school. It brings me back to the days of trying to get a close parking spot at school, trying to get noticed by soccer players, and trying to figure out how to avoid doing or saying anything uncool, and wishing every minute of every day that one day maybe I'd get a chance to win a Grammy. Or something crazy and out of reach like that. ;) I love old buildings with the paint chipping off the walls and my dad's stories about college. I love the freedom of living alone, but I also love things that make me feel seven again. Back then naivety was the norm and skepticism was a foreign language, and I just think every once in a while you need fries and a chocolate milkshake and your mom. I love picking up a cookbook and closing my eyes and opening it to a random page, then attempting to make that recipe. I've loved my fans from the very first day, but they've said things and done things recently that make me feel like they're my friends -- more now than ever before. I'll never go a day without thinking about our memories together.

For the last two years, I've been writing and recording an album called Speak Now. I only have the option of writing about things that happen in my life, so thankfully a LOT has happened in my life in the last two years. I know I don't always say the right thing at the right time or speak up when I should, but I write it all down. I get my guitar and a pen and all of a sudden, I have a chance to say exactly what I meant to say in real life. Some of the things I wrote about are things everyone saw me go through. Some of the things I wrote about are things nobody ever knew about. I'm beyond excited for you to hear these stories and confessions.

I think it's important that you know that I will never change. But I'll never stay the same either. Must be a Sagittarius thing.

I'm pretty stoked that you read this whole thing. I commend you for that. This was ridiculously long, and you probably have other stuff you could've done in the last four minutes. So to you, or anyone else who has spent four minutes on me in some way-- listening to just one song, or watching one of my videos….Thank you. I love you like I love sparkles and having the last word. And that's real love.