My best friend and I love to bitch about other people. We are actually very positive people but sometimes we just need to feel good about ourselves by looking at other people’s imperfections. We have honed our skill well to find flaws in people, even if we have to use all the energy we have to do it. We think it’s a fun way to burn calories.

Last night we were bitching about yucky couples. We call them yucky couples because the way they express their affection to each other give us the heebie-jeebies. They call each other with words you won’t find in any dictionaries like “bubu”, “biyu”, “miumiu”, “switswit!”, “psst psst!”, “rrrrrrrrr”. We repeated their terms of endearment over and over again until we got itch all over.

We know some seemingly perfect men or women who are dating or married to someone we just can’t stand. I know that many people are still figuring out why Julia Roberts was once dating Lyle Lovett (I like Lyle, by the way. You should see him in The New Guy). How do you accept your spouse’s imperfections? As a certified cynic (and shallow prick) I refuse the “love overcomes everything” explanation. I believed I used to love all my ex-es (except one that I dated in junior high simply for doing my homeworks). The reason I never have a long-term relationship is because I can’t stand little things they do. I got turned-off when they gave me flowers. I lost my feeling toward them when they couldn’t name 10 movies starring Eva Arnaz. I broke up with some of them after they constantly sent sms-es like: “dah makan apa belum?” while I knew that they put up with my depressing music, my loud snoring that have 10 different tones and sounds, my small penis, or my tendency to dominate the microphone everytime we went to karaoke. One of my ex-es said that I was like Giant from Doraemon: fat, agressive, egocentric, and would kick someone if they didn’t want to hear him sing.

Now, my small pleasure of making fun out of yucky couples has turned into envy. They seem happy while all I got is my DVD player. I’ve had a four-year relationship with it. Sure it never fails to amuse me. It can turn me on whenever I need it to (just by inserting porn). It has flaws, though. Sometimes it just won’t play any DVD. But after I clean its lens with a disc cleaner, it will always work again, and our love will grow more.

If only I can accept other people’s flaw like I can accept my DVD player’s.

(Note: To those who read my previous, more vulgar post, Perfect Couples Make Yucky Couple, I apologize. I was drunk when I hit the “publish” button. Please disregard it.)

I tried out the Yourself!Fitness on Sunday. The program is awesome. It makes exercise plan tailored-made just for you. During the set-up, it requires you to enter your heartbeat while resting, and after doing some jumps, squats, push-ups, and sit up. After years of being too physically inactive, I felt dizzy and knocked my TV off. Now I can’t walk right. My thighs are too sore. The nack pain hasn’t subsided even a bit. I have to wear an old pair of jeans today. My belly is barely fit in it. I can’t even sit properly.

I begin taking Merit again last night. It’s pretty good to make you lose some fat fast. The downside is that you won’t be able to hold the urge to poop. I was in the middle of an important meeting at wwok in Kemang and I had to excuse myself to go to the toilet four times. Now I’m still at wwok, having having stomach ache and pain sore. I thought smoking could kill the pain. I’ve finished a pack. It doesn’t do anything except make the hole bigger in my lung.

My editor at The Jakarta Post called last night. Saying that senior editors didn’t want me to review movies anymore for the paper since now I’m a filmmaker myself. Funny because I just wrote about not giving up my column a few days ago. I told my editor that the world would be a better place if all film critics also made movies. It’s also gonna be interesting because then they could bitch about other people’s movies and other people whose movies got bitched about could bitch back. My editor didn’t say anything but I knew he was covering his mouth for not laughing out loud. I think it made him he peeing in his pants.

Wait, I have to go to the toilet again.

I’m back. Still waiting for another meeting to start. I’m bored. Thinking about what will I do tomorrow. A facial would be nice. And a hair cut. People will notice less that I’m losing my hair if I keep it short. I think I’ll go bald this time. Can’t. My head got a weird shape.

I hope tomorrow my neck won’t be as sore so I can start exercising again with Yourself!Fitness Xbox program. Yeah that’s a good plan. This time I’ll keep a safe distance from the TV.

Filmmakers suffer from more critical attacks today. Back when the internet wasn’t as widely used as stonewashed jeans or facial oil paper, they would only get bashed in printed materials. But now everybody can publish their opinion about a movie. Everybody has a blog. Anybody can add comments on the Internet Movie Database. And everybody tends to hate a movie today. Contrary to public opinion, I hate to hate a movie. Every time I have to write a bad review for my column at The Jakarta Post, I feel like I have betrayed the form of art that has inspired, even saved my life so many times. Of course, it feels so good when I write a good review for a good movie.

After I become a filmmaker myself, I know how it feels to be criticized (read what those who hate my first movie had to say here). Shortly after my directorial debut was released, I thought about quitting my job as a professional film critic. But then I discovered that I could appreciate a movie better than before I became a filmmaker. I shouldn’t quit now. Not that when I (slightly) begin to get a hang on the craft. Strangely, being on both sides, I love movies more than ever. Now I think I can get more out of a movie. Now my believe is even firmer: if you can love a movie and other people can’t, it’s their lost. If I don’t like a movie, it’s my lost, too.