Once back, I find myself sinking into bureaucratic and administrative quicksand, while I look around bewildered and wild-eyed, trying to make sense of what's happening around me. No stipend (aka income) for the next two months? What the hell are you talking about? Until confirmation is through they expect us to live on our own means. Even after confirmation is through we have to wait till the money gets channeled in.
Post-Europe, I am broke. I mean I am not broke enough to be starving, but broke enough to be annoyed.
Be grateful for what you've got, be grateful for what you've got, be grateful for what you've got. Europe. America. An office space to do what you (kind of) like. Good public transportation. Your own living space. A ukulele (with a snapped string). A (mostly) positive outlook to life. Mostly positive outlook to life, I need you RIGHT NOW.
Settling back in my old life, I am actually experiencing culture shock. I walked into my office today in a daze, unbelieving that I could actually have spent (most of) the past two years cooped up in this place. The feeling of being back is so familiar yet so strange. It's like the past two months was just a really, really long dream, and it did not happen at all. Or is it now that is a dream, and when I wake up I will still be in Berlin, worrying about my lost wallet?
Helplessness. Right now I am wedged between the past and the present, I can't think of Europe right now because it makes me sad, and I don't want to think about the present. Just want to curl up somewhere and hide until this crazy emotional storm ends and I emerge, sweet-smelling and smiley as usual, ready to face the world and its challenges to build the next epic voyage.
*deep breath*
Showing posts with label =(. Show all posts
Showing posts with label =(. Show all posts
Sunshine
There are times when I wonder if there are any limits to my stupidity, such as keeping my wardrobe key so safe somewhere that I can't for the life of me think of where I put it, therefore barring my access to all the clean clothes that I have. I am jet-lagged, filthy and still hating the fact that I'm back.
***
Later. Trying to retrace my thought processes as I kept the key, I correctly deduced that I would have put my keys somewhere so obvious that I would come across it eventually - and worked out that it would be in my office bag. Thankful that I didn't have to wait till Monday to find them. Off to the shower, at long last.
***
Later. Trying to retrace my thought processes as I kept the key, I correctly deduced that I would have put my keys somewhere so obvious that I would come across it eventually - and worked out that it would be in my office bag. Thankful that I didn't have to wait till Monday to find them. Off to the shower, at long last.
Down time
I actually wrote like, 3 blog posts today, when I had my netbook with me while roaming the city. But I'm not in the mood to post them now. Partly it is because two of them are about how I got lost in the city and everything, and right this moment I am acutely aware of my ignorance about Austria and Europe in general. I keep telling myself it's alright because I really didn't have time to do any travel research or read about Austrian history (or Czech, or Italian, or any of the 7 other countries that I'm visiting), and I'll come back again, better prepared - but it just feels awful when my host tells me certain places and events and is completely astounded when I know nothing about them. Just like I was astounded when she said she hasn't watched Sound of Music before (The movie's set in Austria).
I hate this feeling of knowing that I'm missing something completely awesome that is right in front of me but I'm too dumb to recognize it. I know I can't know everything in the world but not knowing anything just sucks horribly =(
I hate this feeling of knowing that I'm missing something completely awesome that is right in front of me but I'm too dumb to recognize it. I know I can't know everything in the world but not knowing anything just sucks horribly =(
-8: Prison Rant
They're installing Exceedingly Ugly Metal Fences all around NTU. I positively loathe it. The beautiful trees and grass and walkways are lined with fences about eight feet high, with barbed wire on top. It is horrible. Simply italicizing the word horrible can't express the magnitude of it. I first saw it around Graduate Hall, and I thought that it was to keep students out of the military area which is just by our campus. Apparently, red signs every 15metres depicting people being shot wasn't enough.
But like a cancerous tumour, the monstrosity grew. I take the shuttle bus sometimes, and to my horror, the metal fences started to crawl further and further. Away from the residential halls, and slowly towards the academic buildings, like poisonous vines, and I am powerless to stop it. Our campus is starting to look like a prison. Eight feet high metal fences with barbed wire on top. Some areas they are planting creeper plants to mask the hideosity of the cold, metallic sheen of the new prison bars. But most other places it is just the bars. Just like in a zoo.
I wonder if they are going to have security gates for each and every academic building, or else this exercise is completely futile, in terms of trying to restrict access. At least that's what I assume the barbed wires are for. I can only speculate that the security is for the upcoming Youth Olympic Games. My university is hosting the kids. I suppose a prison theme is what Singapore is going for.
And I fervently, fervently hope that after the games, this madness will be reversed and my beautiful campus will return to its former fenceless and green glory. I didn't realize it before, but I have actually grown to like my campus. One thing I miss about staying on campus is jogging at night, and then lying on the dewy grass, breathless, with Coldplay blasting in my ears. Guess what. I can't do that anymore. The fences have separated the walkway and the grass. I'd have to risk severing a limb to do something as simple as lie on a patch of grass alongside a walkway.
Sometimes I really, really hate living in Singapore. This is one of those times. Oh yes it's safe. But only because they cane graffiti artists and keep students behind bars.
But like a cancerous tumour, the monstrosity grew. I take the shuttle bus sometimes, and to my horror, the metal fences started to crawl further and further. Away from the residential halls, and slowly towards the academic buildings, like poisonous vines, and I am powerless to stop it. Our campus is starting to look like a prison. Eight feet high metal fences with barbed wire on top. Some areas they are planting creeper plants to mask the hideosity of the cold, metallic sheen of the new prison bars. But most other places it is just the bars. Just like in a zoo.
I wonder if they are going to have security gates for each and every academic building, or else this exercise is completely futile, in terms of trying to restrict access. At least that's what I assume the barbed wires are for. I can only speculate that the security is for the upcoming Youth Olympic Games. My university is hosting the kids. I suppose a prison theme is what Singapore is going for.
And I fervently, fervently hope that after the games, this madness will be reversed and my beautiful campus will return to its former fenceless and green glory. I didn't realize it before, but I have actually grown to like my campus. One thing I miss about staying on campus is jogging at night, and then lying on the dewy grass, breathless, with Coldplay blasting in my ears. Guess what. I can't do that anymore. The fences have separated the walkway and the grass. I'd have to risk severing a limb to do something as simple as lie on a patch of grass alongside a walkway.
Sometimes I really, really hate living in Singapore. This is one of those times. Oh yes it's safe. But only because they cane graffiti artists and keep students behind bars.
-24: Hello World
Sometimes I wish that you and I would run parallel, in mutual indifference to each other.
I don't want to think about your worldly problems anymore. I don't want to defend you and your little people anymore. Your little people can continue to think that climate change is still debatable. Your little people can spill oil and destroy the little wildlife that you have. Your little people can use all the little plastic bottles and plastic everything that they want. Your little people can trade parts of you in, just for convenience or profit.
And then I realize that it is not you who I find fault with. It is your little people, and their little minds, and their little efforts to make me and my convictions look silly.
Hello world. I am tired but I will continue doing what I think is right.
I don't want to think about your worldly problems anymore. I don't want to defend you and your little people anymore. Your little people can continue to think that climate change is still debatable. Your little people can spill oil and destroy the little wildlife that you have. Your little people can use all the little plastic bottles and plastic everything that they want. Your little people can trade parts of you in, just for convenience or profit.
And then I realize that it is not you who I find fault with. It is your little people, and their little minds, and their little efforts to make me and my convictions look silly.
Hello world. I am tired but I will continue doing what I think is right.
-62: The world gone wrong.
I've been reading the news and there've been so much bad news that it's depressing. I'm not talking about the Malaysian front - I've been much happier since I've given up reading about Malaysian politics. But looking all around, there's the Iceland volcanic ash closing down most airports in Europe (Linda who was supposed to leave on Saturday, has been stranded at my place till today) causing indefinite suspension on everything air-travel related, earthquake in China killing more than 1700 people, political unrest in Thailand paralyzing the local economy and causing bloodshed, plane tragedy killing Polish leaders -
I need to get back to work but I just can't shake off this feeling of gloom, of intense suffering and sadness going on around the world, while I sit at my little desk and bury my head into academic literature, having no direct consequence of making a difference in this mad world.
I need to get back to work but I just can't shake off this feeling of gloom, of intense suffering and sadness going on around the world, while I sit at my little desk and bury my head into academic literature, having no direct consequence of making a difference in this mad world.
It's just a name!
BIG EFFING DEAL.
I'm mad and sad, mostly sad that there are such things happening in our country. I don't even care about the debate. As far as I'm concerned these are the people who bring a bad name to religion, and those who are benefiting out of the whole situation, I hope retribution befalls them.
No time to write more but just needed to rant.
NEED TO CONCENTRATE.
I'm mad and sad, mostly sad that there are such things happening in our country. I don't even care about the debate. As far as I'm concerned these are the people who bring a bad name to religion, and those who are benefiting out of the whole situation, I hope retribution befalls them.
No time to write more but just needed to rant.
NEED TO CONCENTRATE.
Deeply unsettling news.
I foresee a dark cloud casting a shadow on some of my plans. It's nothing serious but I'm bummed and I am deeply uncertain about the situation right now, and I'm afraid, but I cannot do anything about it in the time being. Having a bad feeling about it. Dreaming up worst case scenarios. Trying to tell myself everything will be alright. But will it? Can we be sure? Can we be sure that this will not upturn my life, and negate everything I've worked for, and the sole motivation I have to live my current life?
If it pushes me to the brink to grasp for my freedom, and I reach out, only to lose my footing and plummet into the abyss of no return?
No one died. No one's dog died. I am not contemplating suicide. I am fine. Everything material around me is fine although my soul might get snuffed out in the near future if things don't work out. Reality caught me with my guard down. I don't know if I'm strong enough to get what I want.
Deep breath. Deep breath. Things will work out eventually. They always do.
If it pushes me to the brink to grasp for my freedom, and I reach out, only to lose my footing and plummet into the abyss of no return?
No one died. No one's dog died. I am not contemplating suicide. I am fine. Everything material around me is fine although my soul might get snuffed out in the near future if things don't work out. Reality caught me with my guard down. I don't know if I'm strong enough to get what I want.
Deep breath. Deep breath. Things will work out eventually. They always do.
I have lost all faith in humanity.
Read the previous post first.
So apparently it is another false alarm out of the whole string of false alarms that I have had so far. Ahaha. So it was a test after all. The irony of life hits you on the face like an anvil.
I am still homeless. I am pissed off, in a very fatigued fashion, that I don't even have the energy to be really mad about it. I'm like resigned to the fact that I will still have to stay at Jia Ling's for the time being, I have to tell my parents not to come this weekend, I have to blog and cancel all the sunshiney and cheery feelings that I had in the last post, just because some people are bastards.
What happened was we signed this letter of intent yesterday, agreeing to pay $1400 for the flat, and paid the landlord's agent $1400 as deposit. Apparently he used the letter of intent to show another party who was interested in the flat to raise the price to $1500. So someone else is paying $1500 for the flat, the landlord's happy and the unscrupulous agent gets $50 more in his agent fees, and we are left out in the cold.
I don't think he's going to go as far as not returning our deposit, because we do have a receipt for it. Yuen says that we should report this case to the police somehow. I have not spoken to Housemate David because he's still working at this hour and I don't want to disturb him. And what's funny is that, I trusted this guy. I thought he was being very professional and methodical yesterday when we spent like two hours going through the whole contract and signing thing.
It's not so much about not being able to get the place and not being able to realize all the plans that I was brewing for it. The bike that I was going to get, the stuff that I was going to cook, the housewarming party, the string of lights that I got from Bangkok that I was going to hang up under my room window.
It's realizing the fact that I'm a horrible judge of character and I would probably along the way be mauled by conniving wolves in fluffy sheep skin. I really trusted that guy. Hah.
Well at least I don't have to worry about dust and trucks passing by my window anymore. Cheers to that.
So apparently it is another false alarm out of the whole string of false alarms that I have had so far. Ahaha. So it was a test after all. The irony of life hits you on the face like an anvil.
I am still homeless. I am pissed off, in a very fatigued fashion, that I don't even have the energy to be really mad about it. I'm like resigned to the fact that I will still have to stay at Jia Ling's for the time being, I have to tell my parents not to come this weekend, I have to blog and cancel all the sunshiney and cheery feelings that I had in the last post, just because some people are bastards.
What happened was we signed this letter of intent yesterday, agreeing to pay $1400 for the flat, and paid the landlord's agent $1400 as deposit. Apparently he used the letter of intent to show another party who was interested in the flat to raise the price to $1500. So someone else is paying $1500 for the flat, the landlord's happy and the unscrupulous agent gets $50 more in his agent fees, and we are left out in the cold.
I don't think he's going to go as far as not returning our deposit, because we do have a receipt for it. Yuen says that we should report this case to the police somehow. I have not spoken to Housemate David because he's still working at this hour and I don't want to disturb him. And what's funny is that, I trusted this guy. I thought he was being very professional and methodical yesterday when we spent like two hours going through the whole contract and signing thing.
It's not so much about not being able to get the place and not being able to realize all the plans that I was brewing for it. The bike that I was going to get, the stuff that I was going to cook, the housewarming party, the string of lights that I got from Bangkok that I was going to hang up under my room window.
It's realizing the fact that I'm a horrible judge of character and I would probably along the way be mauled by conniving wolves in fluffy sheep skin. I really trusted that guy. Hah.
Well at least I don't have to worry about dust and trucks passing by my window anymore. Cheers to that.
RIP Yasmin Ahmad
This morning I returned to Singapore from India, to a world that has Yasmin Ahmad no more. I am very sad at her passing. She was one of the directors whose movies I never failed to watch, and every time I watch them I am moved to tears and laughter, she was truly an amazing storyteller. We have lost a national legend, a kindred spirit who was able to see beauty in small details of life, and express them so that people all around the world are able to see what she saw. I don't think I can say anything more. Rest in peace, Yasmin Ahmad.
So I decided to go to bed early.
Slept for half an hour. Woke up at 11pm. Stared at my wall map lit by the dim light of my bedside lamp. Shifted my blanket around. Too warm. Took my blanket off. I like sleeping with a blanket on me. Pulled the blanket over my head. Too warm. Kicked the blanket away.
Stared at Kazakhstan. Wondered if there were Couchsurfers in Kazakhstan.
Listened to the lyrics of some songs from The Bird and The Bee which was still playing, from before I slept. Good tracks. Good vocals. Can't remember what the lyrics were about though.
Lay still. Thought of the weekend in front of me. Got depressed. Tried not to get depressed. Got extremely depressed. Turned on the lights. Went downstairs and got some snacks from the vending machine. Still people walking around. Of course, it is but 11pm.
Tried to smile at this Chinese girl who did not smile back. Stood in a corner of the lift and felt that I did not occupy space. Got out of the lift. Got into my room. Turned on the computer. Started watching 海角七号. Finished the snacks. Decided that I wasn't in the mood for 海角七号.
Still depressed. Lah.
Taiwan portrayed in 海角七号 is somewhat alluring. I want to go to Taiwan. Maybe I should go to Taiwan. The other day I checked flights to Frankfurt. I have enough of savings to afford that. Though it would be a very, very budgeted trip. Make that very, very, very. And that would burn my savings to the ground, which would not be wise. I also looked at East Malaysia. Impulse trip alert. Fuck lah need to go away. Anywhere. Need to run. Need space. Need to get out.
I am tired of mankind. I am tired of the virtual world. I am tired of myself. Do you know how tedious it is to be with yourself, like 90% of the time? All the internal monologues. Repeating and repeating. All the hopes and dreams. Repeating and repeating. All the want, all the despair, all the want again. Repeating. But that is not the worst. The worst is when you get to a point when nothing matters anymore because you're fucking bored of your life.
Why sleep, when you are going to wake up and relive today, over and over again? And over. and over. again.
Stared at Kazakhstan. Wondered if there were Couchsurfers in Kazakhstan.
Listened to the lyrics of some songs from The Bird and The Bee which was still playing, from before I slept. Good tracks. Good vocals. Can't remember what the lyrics were about though.
Lay still. Thought of the weekend in front of me. Got depressed. Tried not to get depressed. Got extremely depressed. Turned on the lights. Went downstairs and got some snacks from the vending machine. Still people walking around. Of course, it is but 11pm.
Tried to smile at this Chinese girl who did not smile back. Stood in a corner of the lift and felt that I did not occupy space. Got out of the lift. Got into my room. Turned on the computer. Started watching 海角七号. Finished the snacks. Decided that I wasn't in the mood for 海角七号.
Still depressed. Lah.
Taiwan portrayed in 海角七号 is somewhat alluring. I want to go to Taiwan. Maybe I should go to Taiwan. The other day I checked flights to Frankfurt. I have enough of savings to afford that. Though it would be a very, very budgeted trip. Make that very, very, very. And that would burn my savings to the ground, which would not be wise. I also looked at East Malaysia. Impulse trip alert. Fuck lah need to go away. Anywhere. Need to run. Need space. Need to get out.
I am tired of mankind. I am tired of the virtual world. I am tired of myself. Do you know how tedious it is to be with yourself, like 90% of the time? All the internal monologues. Repeating and repeating. All the hopes and dreams. Repeating and repeating. All the want, all the despair, all the want again. Repeating. But that is not the worst. The worst is when you get to a point when nothing matters anymore because you're fucking bored of your life.
Why sleep, when you are going to wake up and relive today, over and over again? And over. and over. again.
Friday is Blood Donation Day (II)
Today's Friday. The Thirteenth! *thunder*
So like I mentioned in my last post, I went to donate my blood again. I had made an appointment a week ago to secure a slot, and put my passport into my bag yesterday so I wouldn't forget.
Today at 11:25am I went to the Student Activities Centre. Got my goodies (a cool diary and an even cooler badge in the shape of a red blood drop with AB on it) and filled in the forms. After getting rejected the last time for having weak veins, I was nervous that they'd reject me again - and apparently they had my records, so off I was booted to check my veins, before they would register me. My veins were alright, phew! Then I was sent to the medical checkup station. While waiting I leafed through the free diary, and noted that you can't be sick or have a fever within three weeks of your blood donation day.
*thunder*
It was then confirmed by the physician - they couldn't accept my blood because I had been sick, although I am alright now. Of course I couldn't protest because as much as I want to donate my blood to help people in need, I don't want to end up poisoning them because of my sickly blood. But it was so disappointing that this time round I didn't even clear the registration stage. If this trend keeps up, next time I'd be rejected even before trying to register. I returned the cool diary because I didn't feel that I deserved it, but secretly kept the badge. I know, I know. I'm a pathetic pseudo blood donor.
So that's how I ended up in my office drowning my sorrows with Peel Fresh Mango Juice and some Extremely Salty Chips. Nobody wants my blood. People in the office were sympathetic and cautiously kept their faces straight.
To others reading this who are healthy enough to donate blood: Think of those that can't, and do it. Your blood can save lives, and you never know if you would need the favour returned next time (choi choi choi). As for me, I'm going to keep at this until I finally get it right. Me and my AB+ blood shall prevail.
So like I mentioned in my last post, I went to donate my blood again. I had made an appointment a week ago to secure a slot, and put my passport into my bag yesterday so I wouldn't forget.
Today at 11:25am I went to the Student Activities Centre. Got my goodies (a cool diary and an even cooler badge in the shape of a red blood drop with AB on it) and filled in the forms. After getting rejected the last time for having weak veins, I was nervous that they'd reject me again - and apparently they had my records, so off I was booted to check my veins, before they would register me. My veins were alright, phew! Then I was sent to the medical checkup station. While waiting I leafed through the free diary, and noted that you can't be sick or have a fever within three weeks of your blood donation day.
*thunder*
It was then confirmed by the physician - they couldn't accept my blood because I had been sick, although I am alright now. Of course I couldn't protest because as much as I want to donate my blood to help people in need, I don't want to end up poisoning them because of my sickly blood. But it was so disappointing that this time round I didn't even clear the registration stage. If this trend keeps up, next time I'd be rejected even before trying to register. I returned the cool diary because I didn't feel that I deserved it, but secretly kept the badge. I know, I know. I'm a pathetic pseudo blood donor.
So that's how I ended up in my office drowning my sorrows with Peel Fresh Mango Juice and some Extremely Salty Chips. Nobody wants my blood. People in the office were sympathetic and cautiously kept their faces straight.
To others reading this who are healthy enough to donate blood: Think of those that can't, and do it. Your blood can save lives, and you never know if you would need the favour returned next time (choi choi choi). As for me, I'm going to keep at this until I finally get it right. Me and my AB+ blood shall prevail.
When in pain, blog.
I am totally woozy now it is 4:30am and I am suppose dfto be asleep damnit. But instead i was woken up by this searing pain the throat every single time I try to swallow and sleeping is too painful so I had to wake up adn walk aroudn the house and try to distract myself ofrm the awful pain and it didn't work so now I'm online with an ultra slow speed SLOW SPEED AT 4:30AM WTF trying to blog when I should be trying to sleep I think my mind's asleep but m body uisn't and my head spins whenm I move it slightly I odn't have a temperature but the throa t hurts so badly and I dont' wkno what to do about it wish I didnd't have to swallow but I do and everytime I do I cringe and my head spins I' m so miserable right now at 4:30am pain pani pain.
Gutted.
Down. down. down. down. down.
Got my exam results back and for the course that I studied for the most, I got a B-. B Freaking Minus. I'm not going to lie about my utmost disappointment. I was so sure that I had executed the arguments coherently and convincingly. And this is the same prof who said that there are no wrong answers, just bad answers. Which means that my answers were bad. Like way off mark.
A colleague, who doesn't even know how to cite references and *censored to protect the innocent*, actually got a B. WTFFFFF. OK I'm feeling really inferior now. Someone just knock me down dead, please. And if I get wind that, God forbid, the Assignment Wrecker from Hell got anything like B and above, heads will freaking roll. ROLL, I tell you.
I've emailed the prof to schedule a session with him to at least let me know where I went wrong. I mean we got an A for his assignment, which means that I flopped majorly in the test to pull my scores down. Honestly I wouldn't care as much if I had got a B (which I was aiming for) and if I had studied less for it. The other two tests that I didn't study as much for, I got A and A-.
Arrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrggggggggggggghh.
The writing of the research proposal is coming along very slowly as I am experiencing extreme mood swings of YES I CAN DO IT to NO I WILL NEVER GRADUATE AND I WILL GET STUCK IN SINGAPORE FOREVER AND BE FORCED TO MARRY IN ORDER TO OWN A HDB.
*sob*
And this exam result business has me visualizing the decor and location of my HDB. Preferably without window grilles and somewhere high so it'll be easier to kill myself in a dramatic move to leave this cruel world.
OK no more energy.
Back
to
work.
=(
Got my exam results back and for the course that I studied for the most, I got a B-. B Freaking Minus. I'm not going to lie about my utmost disappointment. I was so sure that I had executed the arguments coherently and convincingly. And this is the same prof who said that there are no wrong answers, just bad answers. Which means that my answers were bad. Like way off mark.
A colleague, who doesn't even know how to cite references and *censored to protect the innocent*, actually got a B. WTFFFFF. OK I'm feeling really inferior now. Someone just knock me down dead, please. And if I get wind that, God forbid, the Assignment Wrecker from Hell got anything like B and above, heads will freaking roll. ROLL, I tell you.
I've emailed the prof to schedule a session with him to at least let me know where I went wrong. I mean we got an A for his assignment, which means that I flopped majorly in the test to pull my scores down. Honestly I wouldn't care as much if I had got a B (which I was aiming for) and if I had studied less for it. The other two tests that I didn't study as much for, I got A and A-.
Arrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrggggggggggggghh.
The writing of the research proposal is coming along very slowly as I am experiencing extreme mood swings of YES I CAN DO IT to NO I WILL NEVER GRADUATE AND I WILL GET STUCK IN SINGAPORE FOREVER AND BE FORCED TO MARRY IN ORDER TO OWN A HDB.
*sob*
And this exam result business has me visualizing the decor and location of my HDB. Preferably without window grilles and somewhere high so it'll be easier to kill myself in a dramatic move to leave this cruel world.
OK no more energy.
Back
to
work.
=(
This coffee's good shit.
Transformation is instantaneous - one moment my head's stuffed with cotton and I'm drifting rather than walking - and next moment I'm sharp as a tack, ready to take on yet another stupid group assignment.
You know why group assignments are stupid? I'll tell you why. Firstly there's this get-to-know-each-other stage, which unfortunately is also decide-the-topic stage. Here's when you don't want to appear too pushy yet have to get your point across. If you're lucky you might be interested in the same area and come to the topic easily. If you're not, you might argue for two hours (politely) and come to a consensus of working on homosexuality in the area of films, which is nobody's area of interest thus it is fair to everybody. No prizes for guessing which end of the spectrum I was.
OK, past the topic deciding stage. Here's when you do the real work. To put people into two broad categories, there are the morons, and there are the non-morons, for lack of a better word. And within the category of morons are the super morons and the regular morons. Regular morons, bless their little hearts, at least have the courtesy to realize that they're not that bright, and after a few raps on the knuckles will eventually come to terms that they should be seen and not heard. Super morons however, fight back. They will go on incessantly to force their moronic world views down everybody's throats, and may in some instances win through sheer perseverance.
You do not want to be in a group with a Super Moron. Write that down. If a huge calamity hits the earth and you're left with only one person to group with, and that person turns out to be a Super Moron - insist on doing an individual project. Even if that means the extinction of mankind (since you'd end up having to repopulate the whole earth as well - but we don't want little Super Morons running around do we?). But there is one problem. We don't know who these Super Morons are. In an ideal world, Super Morons would have "SM" tattooed on their foreheads so that they can be identified and quarantined accordingly. It's really too bad we live in the real world.
So after endless homicidal thoughts triggered by a certain Super Moron that I had the good fortune to be in a group with - I have come to the conclusion that there's only one thing worse than having a Super Moron in your assignment group. What is that, you may ask. Elementary, my dear Watson. Having two of them. Now that's the ultimate killer. My utmost sympathy and respect to one of my friends who is in that situation. You know who you are. *Hugs*
And then there are the blood suckers. People who leech off the work of others, just because they can. The unethical bastards. People who fabricate data and plagiarize. The empty vessels. People who make helluva noise and end up being.... sigh. Being Super Morons. Here we go again.
Anyway - where was I? Yes. Group assignments. Energy suckers. Logistic nightmares. They exist for a sole reason - convenience for lecturers who want to grade as few papers as they can. We're postgraduate students, for godsakes. We shouldn't have to deal with this undergraduate shit, at least the best of us, to work on topics irrelevant to ourselves, to educate the Super Morons, to support the blood suckers, to admonish the unethical bastards - just so that the lecturers can grade fewer papers. It's just unfair. Best part is - our grades are affected, not only because of the poor quality of the group work, but also because we spend so much time dealing with group work shit that we have less time and energy to study.
I've gone off tangent again. The original plot was just to marvel at the remarkable effects of God's great creation - coffee, and to commence work on the last stages of the homosexuality thing. I should go now.
*Update* What happened to my blog header?? o_O No time to figure that out. Bloody hell!
*Update 30 secs later* Blog header's back. Weird stuff.
You know why group assignments are stupid? I'll tell you why. Firstly there's this get-to-know-each-other stage, which unfortunately is also decide-the-topic stage. Here's when you don't want to appear too pushy yet have to get your point across. If you're lucky you might be interested in the same area and come to the topic easily. If you're not, you might argue for two hours (politely) and come to a consensus of working on homosexuality in the area of films, which is nobody's area of interest thus it is fair to everybody. No prizes for guessing which end of the spectrum I was.
OK, past the topic deciding stage. Here's when you do the real work. To put people into two broad categories, there are the morons, and there are the non-morons, for lack of a better word. And within the category of morons are the super morons and the regular morons. Regular morons, bless their little hearts, at least have the courtesy to realize that they're not that bright, and after a few raps on the knuckles will eventually come to terms that they should be seen and not heard. Super morons however, fight back. They will go on incessantly to force their moronic world views down everybody's throats, and may in some instances win through sheer perseverance.
You do not want to be in a group with a Super Moron. Write that down. If a huge calamity hits the earth and you're left with only one person to group with, and that person turns out to be a Super Moron - insist on doing an individual project. Even if that means the extinction of mankind (since you'd end up having to repopulate the whole earth as well - but we don't want little Super Morons running around do we?). But there is one problem. We don't know who these Super Morons are. In an ideal world, Super Morons would have "SM" tattooed on their foreheads so that they can be identified and quarantined accordingly. It's really too bad we live in the real world.
So after endless homicidal thoughts triggered by a certain Super Moron that I had the good fortune to be in a group with - I have come to the conclusion that there's only one thing worse than having a Super Moron in your assignment group. What is that, you may ask. Elementary, my dear Watson. Having two of them. Now that's the ultimate killer. My utmost sympathy and respect to one of my friends who is in that situation. You know who you are. *Hugs*
And then there are the blood suckers. People who leech off the work of others, just because they can. The unethical bastards. People who fabricate data and plagiarize. The empty vessels. People who make helluva noise and end up being.... sigh. Being Super Morons. Here we go again.
Anyway - where was I? Yes. Group assignments. Energy suckers. Logistic nightmares. They exist for a sole reason - convenience for lecturers who want to grade as few papers as they can. We're postgraduate students, for godsakes. We shouldn't have to deal with this undergraduate shit, at least the best of us, to work on topics irrelevant to ourselves, to educate the Super Morons, to support the blood suckers, to admonish the unethical bastards - just so that the lecturers can grade fewer papers. It's just unfair. Best part is - our grades are affected, not only because of the poor quality of the group work, but also because we spend so much time dealing with group work shit that we have less time and energy to study.
I've gone off tangent again. The original plot was just to marvel at the remarkable effects of God's great creation - coffee, and to commence work on the last stages of the homosexuality thing. I should go now.
*Update* What happened to my blog header?? o_O No time to figure that out. Bloody hell!
*Update 30 secs later* Blog header's back. Weird stuff.
So incredibly sick of my life.
I'll go out on Monday. I'll work on Saturday, I'll work on Sunday, but I promise on Monday I will take a day off, go shopping, walk around, have fun.
That was what I promised to myself. Saturday was spent largely correcting a groupmate's work (I shouldn't even be calling him groupmate. I should call him the Assignment Wrecker From Hell.). Sunday still spent correcting his work. Back and forth for tens of times till I told him to just give me the fucking raw data, I'll do it myself.
Today's Monday. I couldn't finish my work yesterday so I came again to the office. I wanted to lie in this morning, but I thought, I won't, because I will go to the office, finish the assignment, then go out with my officemate Kristy. So I reached the office at 9:30am. No aircond. Couldn't breathe. Need to finish the assignment. Need to get out. Work. Work then you can get out.
I didn't go have lunch. The nearest canteen takes a 20minute walk because all the nearer ones are closed, because it's a public holiday. Kristy went. I stayed. I had cereal. Need to finish the assignment. Never mind, just have the cereal, you can have a big meal in the evening. Aircond came back at 1pm. It was good. I persevered.
Circa 3pm I was still working. Hate the assignment. There are no findings. Why am I writing a paper that has no findings, that has no contribution to the academic world? Why am I writing this dead end paper when I should be working on something more meaningful? Why am I still. fucking. in. the. office.
4pm I told Kristy that we should leave at 5pm. She said OK let's work harder to make it.
4:59 I sent the paper to my groupmates. I slumped, lifeless, soulless, on the desk. Kristy said, sorry, Jun-E. I don't think I can go. I slumped, lifeless, soulless, on the desk, and started to cry. Noiselessly.
5:37pm. Tears are still flowing down my cheeks. I weighed my options. I checked the cinemas, there are no shows on that I want to watch. I thought of going for a big dinner. But I don't want to eat alone. I thought of the journey to Boon Lay MRT, the journey to godknowswhere, the journey back. The masses of people. The queues. The stupid complexes. The bland food.
I thought of going back to the hostel. I thought of staying and working on another project. But my brain is entirely numb. I can't work anymore. I can't go anywhere. I can't do anything. I can't function anymore.
So this is how I spent my long weekend. I hate Singapore. I hate my life.
That was what I promised to myself. Saturday was spent largely correcting a groupmate's work (I shouldn't even be calling him groupmate. I should call him the Assignment Wrecker From Hell.). Sunday still spent correcting his work. Back and forth for tens of times till I told him to just give me the fucking raw data, I'll do it myself.
Today's Monday. I couldn't finish my work yesterday so I came again to the office. I wanted to lie in this morning, but I thought, I won't, because I will go to the office, finish the assignment, then go out with my officemate Kristy. So I reached the office at 9:30am. No aircond. Couldn't breathe. Need to finish the assignment. Need to get out. Work. Work then you can get out.
I didn't go have lunch. The nearest canteen takes a 20minute walk because all the nearer ones are closed, because it's a public holiday. Kristy went. I stayed. I had cereal. Need to finish the assignment. Never mind, just have the cereal, you can have a big meal in the evening. Aircond came back at 1pm. It was good. I persevered.
Circa 3pm I was still working. Hate the assignment. There are no findings. Why am I writing a paper that has no findings, that has no contribution to the academic world? Why am I writing this dead end paper when I should be working on something more meaningful? Why am I still. fucking. in. the. office.
4pm I told Kristy that we should leave at 5pm. She said OK let's work harder to make it.
4:59 I sent the paper to my groupmates. I slumped, lifeless, soulless, on the desk. Kristy said, sorry, Jun-E. I don't think I can go. I slumped, lifeless, soulless, on the desk, and started to cry. Noiselessly.
5:37pm. Tears are still flowing down my cheeks. I weighed my options. I checked the cinemas, there are no shows on that I want to watch. I thought of going for a big dinner. But I don't want to eat alone. I thought of the journey to Boon Lay MRT, the journey to godknowswhere, the journey back. The masses of people. The queues. The stupid complexes. The bland food.
I thought of going back to the hostel. I thought of staying and working on another project. But my brain is entirely numb. I can't work anymore. I can't go anywhere. I can't do anything. I can't function anymore.
So this is how I spent my long weekend. I hate Singapore. I hate my life.
Soy un perdedor.
I'm a loser baby, so why don't you kill me...
Bloody bloody tired. And this song is stuck in my head. I'm a loser baby, so why don't you kill me... Came home on the train on Wednesday evening, did not sleep well, some baby was crying and then an alarm rang at freaking 5am I could have killed that guy. Reached KL at 6:30am, went with mum to FRIM at 9 for her morning walk, dentist appointment at 11:30am, finally saw the doc at 12:45noon, went shopping at 1U because of a power outage at home, jam jam jam like hell on the way back, had dinner with parents, had supper with YKent, slept at 1am, woke up this morning at 8, went with mum to FRIM again...
So why don't you kill me... Yeah I only know these two lines of the lyrics. My eyes are mere slits now, on the brink of falling asleep.
Pangs of pain get out of my head! Soy un perdedor I'm a loser baby so why don't you kill me.
Bloody bloody tired. And this song is stuck in my head. I'm a loser baby, so why don't you kill me... Came home on the train on Wednesday evening, did not sleep well, some baby was crying and then an alarm rang at freaking 5am I could have killed that guy. Reached KL at 6:30am, went with mum to FRIM at 9 for her morning walk, dentist appointment at 11:30am, finally saw the doc at 12:45noon, went shopping at 1U because of a power outage at home, jam jam jam like hell on the way back, had dinner with parents, had supper with YKent, slept at 1am, woke up this morning at 8, went with mum to FRIM again...
So why don't you kill me... Yeah I only know these two lines of the lyrics. My eyes are mere slits now, on the brink of falling asleep.
Pangs of pain get out of my head! Soy un perdedor I'm a loser baby so why don't you kill me.
You three-headed shape-shifting son of a bitch.
I watched The Mummy 3 today. The title is quoted from the film. I wait for the day when I can use it on someone. In fact I shall practise it every day at the mirror so that when the moment comes, the words will roll effortlessly and spectacularly from my tongue, succeeding in a 15-hit combo that will render my opponent defenseless and speechless.
Hell yeah. I rule. No one messes with me. No one.
I am very bored. Very, very bored. And a bit lonesome, if I would care to admit it. But no, only losers get lonesome. Solitary confinement does not scare me. No it doesn't, you three-headed-shape-shifting-son-of-a-bitch. Shut up and go away.
Yesterday I went out with Roman and his European buddies to the National Day Parade (widely known as the NDP amongst acronym-loving Singaporeans). Pictures.
People.
People on a bridge.
Roman dancing to some schoolgirls' singing.
Then I left early and went off before the fireworks to meet my Chinese officemate, Kristy for dinner. She's really adorable, and I mean both looks and personality-wise. Her friend was supposed to come along but ffked, so there were only both of us at the end. It was an invigorating 90 minutes of badmouthing the male population in general, zooming in on personal experiences and hearsay.
She ended up deleting the contact of her offender from her phone and I whooped on Orchard Road in celebration. We don't need men, what are sperm banks for??
Oh. Right. We do need men to keep the sperm banks stocked. My apologies on the oversight. Won't happen again.
Then today I went out with Mei Zee and saw her for the first time in 8 years. Gosh she's changed. But she's still as sweet as ever, sweeter if possible. I commented that she got prettier. She commented that I looked exactly the same. An awkward school girl with ungainly short hair in a school pinafore two sizes too big springs to mind. 17 was not a good year in the looks department.
Then we went to watch The Mummy 3. Good mindless fun. Don't question the logic. Don't question why
SPOILER AHEAD!!
SPOILER!!
yetis were significant allies of the good guys. Yes, yetis. If not for the yetis the baddies would have won. =_= Michelle Yeoh the 2000 year-old Chinese sorceress cast her spell in English. Brendan Fraser looked 30 when he was supposed to be at least 50. His wife did look 50 though. Why did they take away Rachel Weisz why. The army of dead chanted "freedom" (in Chinese) when they were revived. Cheesy cheesy Hollywood propaganda. (America! Fuck Yeah! Coming to save the motherfucking day yeah! <-- one of our favourite songs during the Rainbow Frank Experience) And yeah. That was how the Terracotta Army was formed. Totally.
END SPOILER.
And you'll be alright.
Then after that we went to buy me a new cell phone. I got a Sony Ericsson W910i at SGD198 for a two-year student plan. I pay SGD25.68 every month. 200 free outgoing minutes, unlimited free SMS and MMS. I did not do much research before buying the phone. It is charging now so I shall explore what I can do tomorrow.
I am still very bored. I have nothing planned for tomorrow. (Except for reading my cellphone manual.) I have still not done my academic reading. The thought of an empty day is extremely depressing. I don't feel like going out because I have gone out for two consecutive days and I don't fancy overcrowded malls. I don't feel like staying in my room. I don't feel like calling anybody to arrange plans. And what plans? How do people use their weekends in Singapore?
I went out for a walk around half the campus this evening. It made me feel a bit better. Marginally. Then I came back to my room and plunged into full-blown depression yet again.
I am delaying going to bed so that tomorrow won't come as soon. But my head hurts so I guess I should. Good night and thanks for all the fish.
Hell yeah. I rule. No one messes with me. No one.
I am very bored. Very, very bored. And a bit lonesome, if I would care to admit it. But no, only losers get lonesome. Solitary confinement does not scare me. No it doesn't, you three-headed-shape-shifting-son-of-a-bitch. Shut up and go away.
Yesterday I went out with Roman and his European buddies to the National Day Parade (widely known as the NDP amongst acronym-loving Singaporeans). Pictures.
People.
People on a bridge.
Roman dancing to some schoolgirls' singing.Then I left early and went off before the fireworks to meet my Chinese officemate, Kristy for dinner. She's really adorable, and I mean both looks and personality-wise. Her friend was supposed to come along but ffked, so there were only both of us at the end. It was an invigorating 90 minutes of badmouthing the male population in general, zooming in on personal experiences and hearsay.
She ended up deleting the contact of her offender from her phone and I whooped on Orchard Road in celebration. We don't need men, what are sperm banks for??
Oh. Right. We do need men to keep the sperm banks stocked. My apologies on the oversight. Won't happen again.
Then today I went out with Mei Zee and saw her for the first time in 8 years. Gosh she's changed. But she's still as sweet as ever, sweeter if possible. I commented that she got prettier. She commented that I looked exactly the same. An awkward school girl with ungainly short hair in a school pinafore two sizes too big springs to mind. 17 was not a good year in the looks department.
Then we went to watch The Mummy 3. Good mindless fun. Don't question the logic. Don't question why
SPOILER AHEAD!!
SPOILER!!
yetis were significant allies of the good guys. Yes, yetis. If not for the yetis the baddies would have won. =_= Michelle Yeoh the 2000 year-old Chinese sorceress cast her spell in English. Brendan Fraser looked 30 when he was supposed to be at least 50. His wife did look 50 though. Why did they take away Rachel Weisz why. The army of dead chanted "freedom" (in Chinese) when they were revived. Cheesy cheesy Hollywood propaganda. (America! Fuck Yeah! Coming to save the motherfucking day yeah! <-- one of our favourite songs during the Rainbow Frank Experience) And yeah. That was how the Terracotta Army was formed. Totally.
END SPOILER.
And you'll be alright.
Then after that we went to buy me a new cell phone. I got a Sony Ericsson W910i at SGD198 for a two-year student plan. I pay SGD25.68 every month. 200 free outgoing minutes, unlimited free SMS and MMS. I did not do much research before buying the phone. It is charging now so I shall explore what I can do tomorrow.
I am still very bored. I have nothing planned for tomorrow. (Except for reading my cellphone manual.) I have still not done my academic reading. The thought of an empty day is extremely depressing. I don't feel like going out because I have gone out for two consecutive days and I don't fancy overcrowded malls. I don't feel like staying in my room. I don't feel like calling anybody to arrange plans. And what plans? How do people use their weekends in Singapore?
I went out for a walk around half the campus this evening. It made me feel a bit better. Marginally. Then I came back to my room and plunged into full-blown depression yet again.
I am delaying going to bed so that tomorrow won't come as soon. But my head hurts so I guess I should. Good night and thanks for all the fish.
Moment of Truth
知己。Literally translated - "know yourself". Meaning of word - best friend who knows you better than you. It really takes a best friend (I am lucky to have a few best friends, so "best" not as in superlative) to knock some sense into you.
*POW*
Haha I've been such an ass for the past few days. Been painfully oblivious to so many obvious things, been self-indulgent to the point of terrorism, been immature bordering on childishness. In true Taurean spirit I went for it, with tunnel vision, insisting that I could fix it, I could make it better, everything will be alright if I am determined to make it better. At a point there was even a flowchart in my head. If, then, else. Loop.
*BANG*
When what I should have done was to leave the problem alone. But the time pressure blinded me. I still have time! I can fix it! Please let me fix it! It's so simple!
*BOOM*
So what I did was to screw things up to the point of no return, when my intention was to salvage what I could. Irony irony irony. So is life. And I would've continued with the downward spiral if it weren't for you. My best friend, my mirror.
Pain. Pain because I see how stupid and simplistic I'd been. Pain because I can see it so clearly in theory but it's not within my practical control. Pain! Why the hell am I trying to explain my pain just pain lah damnit raw stinging teeth-gritting pain. Fuck.
Tomorrow I'll wake up into strong mode again, a useful self-defense mechanism. But still have to go through tonight. Tomorrow my new shell will withstand the stinging humiliation. But tonight still have to pack. Tomorrow I will move on. Tomorrow quickly come. Now have to quickly pack.
I'm sorry. I'm rarely like that. You just caught me at the worst possible moment. I'm sorry.
And Ying Jian, thanks. I love you mate.
*POW*
Haha I've been such an ass for the past few days. Been painfully oblivious to so many obvious things, been self-indulgent to the point of terrorism, been immature bordering on childishness. In true Taurean spirit I went for it, with tunnel vision, insisting that I could fix it, I could make it better, everything will be alright if I am determined to make it better. At a point there was even a flowchart in my head. If, then, else. Loop.
*BANG*
When what I should have done was to leave the problem alone. But the time pressure blinded me. I still have time! I can fix it! Please let me fix it! It's so simple!
*BOOM*
So what I did was to screw things up to the point of no return, when my intention was to salvage what I could. Irony irony irony. So is life. And I would've continued with the downward spiral if it weren't for you. My best friend, my mirror.
Pain. Pain because I see how stupid and simplistic I'd been. Pain because I can see it so clearly in theory but it's not within my practical control. Pain! Why the hell am I trying to explain my pain just pain lah damnit raw stinging teeth-gritting pain. Fuck.
Tomorrow I'll wake up into strong mode again, a useful self-defense mechanism. But still have to go through tonight. Tomorrow my new shell will withstand the stinging humiliation. But tonight still have to pack. Tomorrow I will move on. Tomorrow quickly come. Now have to quickly pack.
I'm sorry. I'm rarely like that. You just caught me at the worst possible moment. I'm sorry.
And Ying Jian, thanks. I love you mate.
Well, so much for trying.
I peed, finally.
I think I am going to wake up feeling extremely foolish tomorrow.
I think I am going to wake up feeling extremely foolish tomorrow.
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