The Cold War

I was laughing at the picture above because my dad is not yet promoted to be a grandpa just simply because he's not the best father? Hmm.. make sense to me.

Oh, I'm not sure this is a pleasing news but my parents were finally reconciled like two weeks ago (previous episode: my dad caught on cheating and he's leaving home for about two years without news) and I was like having a cold war with him ever since.

After he came back to my mother's house and for another awkward days in the same roof with him, I better staying still in my room while he's watching telly in living room. I was just saying few words if he asked me about something. I never opening up a conversation with him unless I need something. I never bring him water, made him a cup of coffee, or any of things or behavior a daughter should done for a father as a form of respect.

I just couldn't.

Toward their remarried, my dad never officially talking about what had happened before his two-years disappearance to us, his children or even my mom (maybe, I don't know if they've already talked about this).

He was like skip the explanation part (which is very essential) and get going to the teary part while saying "I'm going to pay all the things I've done."

Paying with what, dude? Money? Sorry, I made my own already.

Umm, and what kinda things you've done? Please explain in two thousand words essay.

Can you purchase disappointment? Hell NO, dad.

Am I still mad?

I don't know.

I just don't feel like to share any of my private thoughts or feeling with him. Or discuss my future live, or talking about man with him.

He wasted all of the time he should have done something like that, he was never there when we really need him.

So.. I guess I never really have a picture of a guarding father (or mother). But it's all okay because I have my siblings on my back, we are team Salam, remember?

So when my mom having this reconciliation, for me it was like choosing between her husband and her children. And she chooses my dad. I was like, okay go a head, we don't mind, enjoy your life and be happy, bye.

But, I really mean it.

My best wish for them is to find what they are looking for. Happiness? They only know.

But the cold war still happening, I don't know when it's gonna be over. I might need something to burn out my heart so it won't getting colder.

Need to find a fire, bye!

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Names - Part II

Uki, I invented the name at senior high and I love it because no body has it. In three thousand possibilities, three thousand student, Uki was always be mine.

Until a month ago someone name Uki (and yes, she's a woman too) is in the same office with me. In only seventy possibilities, seventy names and I should share a name with someone.

Can you believe it?

Suddenly I really want to change my names, lol, seriously.

But someone helps me with that. Ka Ginny gave me this playful name sounded like Shawki, but its actually SHAUKI.

Now every body start to call me that.

Anyway, thanks Kak Ginny.

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Names

Mulki Salam, my parents named me. I was called 'Mul' or complete 'Mulki' till I was graduated from highschool. Entering collage I thought modifying my nickname is the best thing I could do. Because things were always like this when I met new people;

New people : what's your name?
Me : its Mulki.
New people : who? Multi?
Me : No,  Mulki.
New people : Pungki?
Me : Mul-ki.
New people: Oh,  OK Mungki.
Me : *preparing a knife to kill this person*

Now you know why I took a brief nickname like 'Uki', because honestly I don't want to stab people every time they misspell my name.

Apparently, it's not only me who modifying my own name, some friends did it too. Uksay (Uki Sayang *eaaaa) is my other name. Three of hundred female friends call me that way, Bu Kicau, Bontot,  and Elisa.

'Uk' with Indonesia's spelling give it a hang-pause-sound to the K. Sometimes they doubled or tripled the pronounce and made it like a sound of a barking dog,  'uk-uk-uk' (with Indonesian pronounce only). Yeah, some called me with that monosyllable name.

A dorm friend called my by last name.

One of the most creative was my friend Ucan who gave me this awkward name. From Mul-ki she plays with the syllable, reverse it become Ki-mul. Next step she upgrades it become Kimulabotol, which is I don't know from what planet she stole that language. She, then, used Kimul instead and change the 'k' with 'c',  now my name is Cimul.

Did she stops already? Nope, next step she calls me only with first syllable; Cim,  which is now have additional 'e' in front of it. Encim, that's now she finally called me. But thank God she stops there.

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The Cubical Club

Early this year I was becoming a 24 YO woman and graduated. Which means.. I need to start pay my own bills, which means.. I need to live separately from my mother, which means.. I need to taking care of myself, fully.

Oh, haven't I told you that I've already find a way to pay my own bills. Currently I was payed for a job dealing with ecommerce things. Its pretty explode my mind in the first day though I have pretty nice people surrounding me.

I need to memorize a lot of things, codes, people's names, things to do, fashion, blah blah blah.

I don't realize that I become a member of the cubical club for the second time after my awkward phase in 2013 with Erlangga.

Let me tell you about this cubical club. The term is actually not official. I made it up to picture a kind of working circumstances in an office where you can find people bussy in their own desk with walls separating each other.

That's the kind of club I am talking about, but without walls covering-up our faces in this case.

Let me introduce you to the cheerful Ka Ginny, the Instagram-Guy Ricco, the joyful Ka Friska, the quiet Nadya, the sarcastic Aldi, the calm ka Cipet, the silent Jeje, and our photographer Ka Juan. Oh, and me among them, the refund girl? Ugh, failed

Anyway, here I am.

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