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I have - a sudden - inexplicable - urge - to relearn mathematics. Just for funsies. Anyone wanna teach?
//update: urge explained. It was PMS. (Still - anyone wanna teach?)
Showing posts with label PMS. Show all posts
Showing posts with label PMS. Show all posts
Broccoli is not spelt Brocolli.
OK I'm severely PMSed and full of angst and ready to bite random people's heads off. Not to eat, you understand. Just to demonstrate that I mean business, and I will not hesitate to annihilate anything that is in my path. Perhaps with the exception of humpback whales. Since they're endangered and stuff. Nah fuck this shit. If any whales gets in the way I shall destroy them as well. ROARRRRR.
Back from my comfort food - maggi mee kari - and I have not noticed much difference in disposition. The horrible mood can partly be attributed to the fact that I have just returned from a networking session with the graduate course and realize that I SUCK at networking. And then I spent the rest of the time talking to the other PhDs who were working on hard sciences, physicists, engineers, biomedics, microbiologists, you name it. People who were blowing up (in scale, not by combustion) DNAs and doing research on cloud computing and studying Bayesian statistics, whatever that means. Crazy assembly of brains and I felt like such a humbug and an stupid duckling being amongst them - yeah I understand that there were many thinkers in the social sciences and they were also crazily intelligent but I am hardly in their league, being pretty much clueless in my own field as well.
Downnnnnnnnnnnnnn.
I almost wish that I wasn't going to the US so that I can start working on my research right away so I can compensate for my behindness and lax attitude in my studies. LOOK WHAT THE HORMONES HAVE MADE ME SAY. *slaps self repeatedly*
But seriously all the input from all around have made me really confused. The graduate forum before the India trip showcased an array of social scientific research in the Asian region that the other graduates were doing, and although I presented satisfactorily (I was within earshot when someone commented that they enjoyed my presentation to someone else *smug*), the paper happens to have no relation whatsoever with my current research and hence can hardly be counted.
Then India, sensory overload, but guess what I've only been back for 2 days and I can't remember what it was like already. It feels like a long, delicious and bug-infested dream. In fact if I wasn't all covered with red spots I might start to doubt that it actually happened. I remember bits. Like the sunrise at Pondicherry. The wonderful palace lights of Mysore. The hellish Chennai heat. Hellish Chennai heat. Chennai heat. Heat.
Then this graduate course. It's really fun actually. They're doing experiential learning so it's quite fun with problem solving and teamwork stuff and some outdoor activities. What we're learning is very much in line with the PhD life that we're going through, such as supervisor-student relationship, collaboration, creativity and etc. After all it is a course specially designed for new PhD students. But at the same time I keep seeing areas that I need to improve on, and being a mere mortal I am full of flaws and it infuriates me to no end seeing all the areas that I can improve on and what a better person I would be if I weren't gallivanting across the globe whenever I could.
And then I realize that even if I wasn't gallivanting across the globe I would be procrastinating in front of the PC, probably blogging about how I would like to gallivant across the globe, and that depresses me even further. I mean when you're talking to researchers who are working their butts off to find a cure for cancer, well, your case just comes across as rather weak - if what you want to do is just to travel. To see the world. To be touched by different cultures, and to touch different cultures - and the PhD is a vehicle for me to do that.
Why can't I be a regular PhD student who is working on hard, tangible science that makes hard, tangible differences to mankind? I mean I feel like such a fake sometimes. It's not like I'm not good at what I do. But when self-doubt floods in, it tears down the structures and drags the debris across the town and I feel entirely wretched.
So many things to do, and the absurdest thing is that I can't remember off my head what I actually have to do. I mean it in the immediate task sense, and also the areas of improvement I should be working on or thinking of, instead of weaving a long and verbose text which is not about India which I am supposed to blog about.
OK I just reread the bunch of crap that I just wrote and realized that I wouldn't give up what I'm going through despite all the whining, and I should stop alternating between yelling at myself and wallowing in completely unjustified self pity. So end of emo post. But since I have written so much I'll just publish it. As crazy as it may make me seem. OK will stop rambling and just think of a title that will summarize the essence of this post and post it already.
Back from my comfort food - maggi mee kari - and I have not noticed much difference in disposition. The horrible mood can partly be attributed to the fact that I have just returned from a networking session with the graduate course and realize that I SUCK at networking. And then I spent the rest of the time talking to the other PhDs who were working on hard sciences, physicists, engineers, biomedics, microbiologists, you name it. People who were blowing up (in scale, not by combustion) DNAs and doing research on cloud computing and studying Bayesian statistics, whatever that means. Crazy assembly of brains and I felt like such a humbug and an stupid duckling being amongst them - yeah I understand that there were many thinkers in the social sciences and they were also crazily intelligent but I am hardly in their league, being pretty much clueless in my own field as well.
Downnnnnnnnnnnnnn.
I almost wish that I wasn't going to the US so that I can start working on my research right away so I can compensate for my behindness and lax attitude in my studies. LOOK WHAT THE HORMONES HAVE MADE ME SAY. *slaps self repeatedly*
But seriously all the input from all around have made me really confused. The graduate forum before the India trip showcased an array of social scientific research in the Asian region that the other graduates were doing, and although I presented satisfactorily (I was within earshot when someone commented that they enjoyed my presentation to someone else *smug*), the paper happens to have no relation whatsoever with my current research and hence can hardly be counted.
Then India, sensory overload, but guess what I've only been back for 2 days and I can't remember what it was like already. It feels like a long, delicious and bug-infested dream. In fact if I wasn't all covered with red spots I might start to doubt that it actually happened. I remember bits. Like the sunrise at Pondicherry. The wonderful palace lights of Mysore. The hellish Chennai heat. Hellish Chennai heat. Chennai heat. Heat.
Then this graduate course. It's really fun actually. They're doing experiential learning so it's quite fun with problem solving and teamwork stuff and some outdoor activities. What we're learning is very much in line with the PhD life that we're going through, such as supervisor-student relationship, collaboration, creativity and etc. After all it is a course specially designed for new PhD students. But at the same time I keep seeing areas that I need to improve on, and being a mere mortal I am full of flaws and it infuriates me to no end seeing all the areas that I can improve on and what a better person I would be if I weren't gallivanting across the globe whenever I could.
And then I realize that even if I wasn't gallivanting across the globe I would be procrastinating in front of the PC, probably blogging about how I would like to gallivant across the globe, and that depresses me even further. I mean when you're talking to researchers who are working their butts off to find a cure for cancer, well, your case just comes across as rather weak - if what you want to do is just to travel. To see the world. To be touched by different cultures, and to touch different cultures - and the PhD is a vehicle for me to do that.
Why can't I be a regular PhD student who is working on hard, tangible science that makes hard, tangible differences to mankind? I mean I feel like such a fake sometimes. It's not like I'm not good at what I do. But when self-doubt floods in, it tears down the structures and drags the debris across the town and I feel entirely wretched.
So many things to do, and the absurdest thing is that I can't remember off my head what I actually have to do. I mean it in the immediate task sense, and also the areas of improvement I should be working on or thinking of, instead of weaving a long and verbose text which is not about India which I am supposed to blog about.
OK I just reread the bunch of crap that I just wrote and realized that I wouldn't give up what I'm going through despite all the whining, and I should stop alternating between yelling at myself and wallowing in completely unjustified self pity. So end of emo post. But since I have written so much I'll just publish it. As crazy as it may make me seem. OK will stop rambling and just think of a title that will summarize the essence of this post and post it already.
The Internet is my Home
I have been suffering from a sudden bout of homesickness.
I can't explain why - after three full months of being in New Zealand I am jolted with the fact that I would love to wake up tomorrow morning and find myself on my semi-hard bed snuggled under my Garfield bedspread, surrounded by my trusty bookshelves, wardrobe and computer desk.
Mum and Dad in the kitchen, eating oatmeal - Mum in her sweatshirt getting ready to go for a walk at FRIM, and Dad in his crisp office shirt, being late as usual. Sis in her room, bleary-eyed, getting ready for classes. I sprawl on my bed and breathe in the familiar scent of my pillow, eventually pulling myself up and the first thing I do is of course, to turn on the computer.
I think that is why I have been spending a disproportionate amount of time in the Internet cafe in Wellington. I have been online for three days in a row now, for no good reason. There are no emails for me, I don't have anything of note to blog about, and I don't chat that much either. Yet it is comforting, just being in this familiar cyberspace. I dread to think of when I have to spend 3 years of my life in Singapore. The very thought is depressing.
Travelling from one town to another every week had kept me occupied. Mondays we leave for a new city. Tuesdays are uneventful. Wednesdays we get our pay, which is always a highlight. On Thursdays we conclude the week and do our timesheet, and calculate if we have achieved target (or manipulate our way through). Fridays - well, Fridays are Fridays. So we have reached the weekend where we plan to go somewhere with the car. And the cycle repeats.
But now - we are stranded in Wellington, with nothing to do. Long weekend, therefore no work. There is nightlife here, but I'm not accustomed to clubbing so that's out. I don't feel like staying in the hostel as it's always crowded and there's always unfamiliar people around. The girl that shares our dorm is scary. I want to call home but the phone is always occupied. Shops close way too early and I'm not really in the mood for shopping anyway. Everything to do costs money and I choose to squander my pay on the Internet. Which gives me solace, comforts my restless soul and numbs my instincts to run.
On the brighter side - there always is a brighter side, no? I got my 100 signup certificate from Greenpeace this morning and together with it was a gift certificate from Whitcoulls. $20. I also have a $10 voucher from Borders by spending more than $75 at the shop. Think of all the books that I can buy! The possibilities! But seriously, books in NZ are freaking expensive that it's not even funny. I've checked out books in Singapore, which has a similar exchange rate as NZ, and the books cost like one third/half the price. Just ridiculous to buy books here.
And also, I am going to a strip club sometime this week with Marten. The arrangement is symbiotic - I am too shy to go on my own, and he needs an excuse to go back again. (He was there two nights ago, his first time and he liked it.) The entrance fee is only $20. Fair enough for a one-off experience.
Here's a picture of me bungy jumping off Auckland Harbour Bridge.
Hopefully I will resume having the Spirit of The Bungy soon, after I start menstruating and stop whinging. Since as the Internet Cafe will not be open on Christmas - on Christmas the whole of NZ is like a ghost town where no shops open - there should be no further wallows in self-pity on this blog. Two days should be enough for me to recover from my down time I guess. NZ is after all a great place to be and I shouldn't waste it by being homesick.
In the meantime, all of you have a good Christmas ya.
I can't explain why - after three full months of being in New Zealand I am jolted with the fact that I would love to wake up tomorrow morning and find myself on my semi-hard bed snuggled under my Garfield bedspread, surrounded by my trusty bookshelves, wardrobe and computer desk.
Mum and Dad in the kitchen, eating oatmeal - Mum in her sweatshirt getting ready to go for a walk at FRIM, and Dad in his crisp office shirt, being late as usual. Sis in her room, bleary-eyed, getting ready for classes. I sprawl on my bed and breathe in the familiar scent of my pillow, eventually pulling myself up and the first thing I do is of course, to turn on the computer.
I think that is why I have been spending a disproportionate amount of time in the Internet cafe in Wellington. I have been online for three days in a row now, for no good reason. There are no emails for me, I don't have anything of note to blog about, and I don't chat that much either. Yet it is comforting, just being in this familiar cyberspace. I dread to think of when I have to spend 3 years of my life in Singapore. The very thought is depressing.
Travelling from one town to another every week had kept me occupied. Mondays we leave for a new city. Tuesdays are uneventful. Wednesdays we get our pay, which is always a highlight. On Thursdays we conclude the week and do our timesheet, and calculate if we have achieved target (or manipulate our way through). Fridays - well, Fridays are Fridays. So we have reached the weekend where we plan to go somewhere with the car. And the cycle repeats.
But now - we are stranded in Wellington, with nothing to do. Long weekend, therefore no work. There is nightlife here, but I'm not accustomed to clubbing so that's out. I don't feel like staying in the hostel as it's always crowded and there's always unfamiliar people around. The girl that shares our dorm is scary. I want to call home but the phone is always occupied. Shops close way too early and I'm not really in the mood for shopping anyway. Everything to do costs money and I choose to squander my pay on the Internet. Which gives me solace, comforts my restless soul and numbs my instincts to run.
On the brighter side - there always is a brighter side, no? I got my 100 signup certificate from Greenpeace this morning and together with it was a gift certificate from Whitcoulls. $20. I also have a $10 voucher from Borders by spending more than $75 at the shop. Think of all the books that I can buy! The possibilities! But seriously, books in NZ are freaking expensive that it's not even funny. I've checked out books in Singapore, which has a similar exchange rate as NZ, and the books cost like one third/half the price. Just ridiculous to buy books here.
And also, I am going to a strip club sometime this week with Marten. The arrangement is symbiotic - I am too shy to go on my own, and he needs an excuse to go back again. (He was there two nights ago, his first time and he liked it.) The entrance fee is only $20. Fair enough for a one-off experience.
Here's a picture of me bungy jumping off Auckland Harbour Bridge.
Hopefully I will resume having the Spirit of The Bungy soon, after I start menstruating and stop whinging. Since as the Internet Cafe will not be open on Christmas - on Christmas the whole of NZ is like a ghost town where no shops open - there should be no further wallows in self-pity on this blog. Two days should be enough for me to recover from my down time I guess. NZ is after all a great place to be and I shouldn't waste it by being homesick.
In the meantime, all of you have a good Christmas ya.
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