Georgetterox

Yea..right, like it’s just devil who may wear Prada.

Doctor also wanna dress fine, so that’s why doctors don’t just wear Prada, but also Kenzo, Oscar Lawalatta, even Giovanni, too.

But unfortunately, in a few chances, doctors who wear Prada just set trouble.

My sister told me that she was in the town, she hospitalized her daughter of typhoid.

I was so busy, but I promised to visit them, though I didn’t know when or how I would come.

So after I treated my patients in my own place, at last I went to the hospital where my niece was being hospitalized.

I came about half one p.m, and I didn’t tell my sister that I was on the parking.

Coz I wanna surprise her when she would find me standing on her daughter’s door.

Then on the hall, a security guard ruined my surprise.

He said I mustn’t get in, coz the visiting hour had been already off.

I just laughed.

Then I phoned my sister, “Would you get out of the room and get me in, please?

The guard doesn’t let me in.”

She wondered, “How come doesn’t he let you in? You’re a doctor, this is an hospital!”

But then she came out and grabbed me with her. Otherwise the guard still was curious about me.

He might’ve thought that I carried a bomb inside my big bag.

I wish that he knew that I just brought a textbook inside.

So this is my fault, coz I don’t know the visiting hour.

Well, I never remember the visiting hour, even when I still worked in the hospital.

Patients needed me all the time, so I could visit them anytime.

Who cares about visiting hour anyway?

The problem is, the guard didn’t let me in coz I came not at the visiting hour.

I didn’t come at the visiting hour coz I never remember about visiting hour.

I don’t remember about visiting hour coz I don’t think I need to.

I don’t think about it coz I’m a doctor.

And the guard didn’t guess I’m a doctor coz I didn’t wear my white coat, but I wore my casual one. He didn’t guess I’m a doctor, maybe he thought I was just a stranger.

Especially that I brought a big black bag. I might be a devil who brought a bomb inside.

A devil, not a doctor who wears Prada.

Well, I don’t like wearing my white coat.

I wear it in my room, but not in the corridor, not in the elevator, not in the parking.

I often feel hot-flushed anyway, that’s me.

And I don’t let hanging the stethoscope on my neck just for letting anybody, even a security guard, know that I’m a doctor.

I love hanging out in cafeteria, then I’d put my stethoscope on the table so I could eat my siomay.

Someday I could’ve left it and forgot where I put it before. Stethoscope costs a lot.

I understand that the guard just did his job.

He just protected his clients from robbery, terrorists, or even just a sneaker. What a good guard.

But definitely he’s not an appropriate guard to deal with some edgy doctors like me, who don’t wear white coat at visiting. Should I wave my ID card to prove him my profession?

I don’t think so, coz I’m not like an FBI agent, hueheheheh..

Those who read my blog for the first time, must thought that I was a member of an association of wedding crashers.

No, it hasn’t happened yet, and it rather doesn’t happen, coz if it does, I could be prohibited to any weddings.

Rya, 27, my cyber friend, asked, whether I was ever invited to my ex’s wedding.

I thought my ex-s haven’t been married already yet, but I think that if I’m invited,  probably I won’t be there.

The reason is so childish, that I don’t bless the wedding, coz I’m the one who’s supposed to marry him, not that woman!

I wish that it’ll rain hard, very hard and make the flood on the parking of the hall, so the guests can’t get out of the party coz they’re worried about being wet.

Let the guests grouse around, so the wedding day that’s supposed to be an happy day, turns into a very unblessed day coz all the guests grouse about rain.

OOPS, BUT WE MUSTN’T PRAY FOR BAD, MUST WE?

I wish my ex is happy with anyone whom he marries at last, coz I also wish he prays for mine.

Maybe I’ll try to come to his wedding day.

But absolutely I don’t wanna show up at the party as the one who loses because not being married by him.

I’ll bring a little boy. Not just a boy, but I wish that his face looks like my ex’s.

Before we go to the wedding, I’ll train the boy, so he’s gonna call the bridegroom Daddy.

So when I’ll greet the bridegroom and the bride, I’ll perform a widow who keeps though and strong to see her ex-husband marries another woman.

When we shake our hands each other, “my son” will call the bridegroom so loudly, “Daddy..! Daddy..!”

His voice is made so loud and all the guests on the party look aside of wondering.

The bride will get astonished, then she’ll stare at her new husband in frightening, “Honey, why does the boy call you Daddy? And why he’s got your face and your eyes?”

But the bridegroom can’t say a word, coz he’s not really sure of himself if the boy is really his son or not. Beside, as I remember, I never pushed my ex-s wearing rubber.

I know that Durex costs a lot.

I’ll pretend being ashame and say to the boy, “No, Son, that’s not your Dad..”

But coz I’ve bribed the son with a Tamiya for his cool acting, he won’t listen to me and he calls my ex more loudly, “Daddy..! Daddy…!”

Well, isn’t it a good idea? Wanted: A boy who look like Brad Pitt..

May 28, 2006, is supposed to be my birthday, but in another place, that day just became a disaster.

A labor saw an eruption of an inner shower from an area in Lapindo’s oil mining at Porong, Sidoarjo, and from the eruption was mud that couldn’t be obstructed.

The engineers of Lapindo thought the mud shower would stop later as usual, but the shower just turned into a lake that got larger till it sunk Porong, the valley whose citizens just lent their lives to the field that now has become a mud lake.

When the local governor commanded his best engineers to build a dam to hold the malignant mud, the mud was just getting larger, and it was large enough to sink the toll road the monorail which connected the Surabaya and the southern East Java.

The toll road must be closed forever, and the train company must find the new route for their rails.

The in-and-out access of Surabaya became terribly difficult, the Porongers got angry coz their habitants were sunk, and the economy of East Java got shocked.

Me, as a real East-Javanese descent, get troubled of this damn mud, though I’ve lived in West Java for this long time.

The local government built another alternative route from Surabaya to Malang, and the distance were terribly far.

All the people used the alternative route, and the route became narrow and terribly jam.

It made my family couldn’t celebrate Eid Mubarak at Surabaya coz there wasn’t enough time for the journey from Jember to Surabaya.

On the contrary, my uncle in Surabaya couldn’t celebrate Eid Mubarak at Jember with us.

My brother-in-law who went to the college at Surabaya, couldn’t come home to his sons and his wife at Malang.

My sister at Malang, can’t control her playland business at Surabaya, coz the angry Porongers block all the way to Surabaya.

In other words, this mud has messed around with everybody’s lives.

I swear, a one-minute-emotion made me wanna humiliate Lapindo.

Why they couldn’t be smart enough to build the well till the place could erupt and its mud spread everywhere.

We’ve seen this phenomenon at Chernobyl, but we never wanna learn from another nation which nation has been itchy coz their pure water was contaminated of mud.

Who commanded them to build oil wells among houses?

Or the contrary, who commanded to build houses in an area of oil wells?

Why do we have planologists whose tasks are planning the district of an area?

But my brother, a geologist, said, that the mud at Porong-Sidoarjo is truly a natural phenomenon.

He means, under Porong is a mud volcano, and it’s just the matter of time till the volcano erupts.

Same as the mount under Wilshire Boulevard at Tommy Lee Jones’ Volcano.

Even there’s also a mud volcano at Venezuela, and the local citizens just make it as a tourism object.

The problem is, my brother didn’t say that the mud volcano at Venezuela isn’t among the houses.

So, how are we gonna tell the angry citizens, that the houses were sunk coz God plans the mud to sink their home?