And the diagnosis is...

I have come to the conclusion that I am a true-blue escapist. No no, I don't specialise in jail-breaking or anything criminal. It's a bit less exciting than that. I mean that I would rather run away than to confront something, expecially when I know it is going to hurt big time. Hah, this explains my passivity eh.

When I am unhappy about something, and even when I am angry about something, I often clam up and ignore rather than rant about it. Cold war, not arm-to-arm combat.

If possible I try to do things in ways that do not involve troubling other people. If I can do it myself, I do it myself. If no one notices anything, all the better.

When I see an acquaintance in the distance and I know that after saying "Hi!" there would be an awkward pause, I would not say "Hi!"

I don't often call people.

I want to fade into the background when there is an argument around me that I can do nothing about.

I always thought that weakness is abominable and I had hoped that I am not weak. But I think, in my hearts of hearts, I am so very weak. No strength of character. Not garang enough. I don't know if I will ever be strong enough to fight for something. Most things feel very lukewarm at the moment. I guess they have been like this forever already.

In some ways, this contradicts my need for control. When I know I can get my way, I must have it in my way. But who said that life is going to be easy. I guess it's when I know that it is beyond my control that I escape. Well, that just about showcases my cowardice in its full glory.

This is so incredibly sad. It saddens even me.

On Local TV

Oliver's Twist

For some reason, this is one show I never get tired of watching. It was shown about 3 years ago, then it went off and then it's now back on air. That our local TV station likes to milk every show they've ever bought bone-dry is nothing new. And it's not why I'm writing about the show today.

I find that I'm rediscovering the show. I used to like it because of the way it is shot: all the bright colours and rioutous cacophony Jamie Oliver whips up in his kitchen. The food wasn't the main point because I didn't really have any real concept of Western food. If you know what I mean. As in, I couldn't relate.

Now I find myself drawn to the street scenes that precede the actual cooking and then to the actual dishes. I can recognise some of the places he visits! Spotted Borough Market once... and the backdrop view of the Thames and St Paul's from his kitchen window is definitely familiar! Yum. And having steeped in British cooking (ok ok, British supermarkets), I now find his pasta and sandwiches rather exciting! But he uses too much rocket. Bleah!

Commercial time

I have come to the conclusion that these slots of repeating trailers/spoilers/advertisments and what-nots are meant to kill brain cells. No, no, exterminate brain cells. There are only so many times I can tolerate the too-loud soundtrack for a certain local talent show. Really!

Now I know why plhu records her shows and watches them sans the breaks.

If a show is scheduled for Friday and if you regularly watch that channel, then I only hope you have a high threshold, starting on Monday.

Mid Year Resolution

I resolve to gripe/complain less.

You know when you observe two people in conversation, there are instances when you can clearly tell that one party is talking too much and that the other is only listening with half an ear (and wishing with his/her whole heart that the former would just give it a rest). Yet the one's who talking too much still goes on. And on. And on. It is a lot worse for the latter when the former goes on in that kind of sneering/whining/self-righteous tone. Bleah.

I think the world will be a better place if we tell other people happy things. Of course I don't mean for people to bottle up all their unpleasant emotions. But since most of the time complaining will only propagate frustration, my suggestion is to deal with negative feeling to sort it out as best as possible before relating it to someone else with as much neutrality and peace-of-mind that can be mustered. Yep, I hope I can do that.


Here's something that pw sent me; they were taken on the day we moved out of Wolfson. Don't we look so very happy!


Prunes!

doing nothing

random madness.

i've not been up to much lately. does trying to read count? managed absorb some basic details about the bacterial T4SS and some stuff about a protein. some consolation i guess. well, i've put a stop to this inefficient mode of working: i'll be going to lab tomorrow! yay. decided that it's better to get my hands dirty first. being confounded in lab will probably be fresh impetus to read more. just reading with no aim is, frankly, difficult.

did have 2 bad dreams over 3 nights though. in vivid detail. that i still remember. brain on overdrive to compensate for lack of activity in the day? maybe.

ach. my bestest friend has gone abroad. it's not that we see each other a great deal. but knowing that we are on the same island is a good feeling. well, she probably felt the same when i ran off at the beginning of the year. heh. now to rely on the wonders of technology i guess.

ok, going off the gallivant in town. actually i'm hoping to find a cd at hmv. wish me luck.

Commencement

Trust the school to come up with such a name for convocation.

Well, I suppose it is true that while graduation does mark the end of one's education, it also heralds the beginning of a totally new phase in one's life. I know, I know, the "new phase of life" phrase is so often used that some part of the brain just shuts down when one sees it being used to describe an event.

BUT. Isn't it really so. Perhaps for (roughly) half of the country's population, entering the army and serving the nation is the first time when this phrase truly applies. That is when one's entire life changes and when old routines become meaningless and get overwritten in quite an abrupt manner. Yet for the other 50%, it's been school all along, just in mildly varied methods of teaching. For them this is the breakpoint.

Graduating from university. I don't know about you but the thought of it never fails to make me draw a larger breath. It entails making so many decisions about the future. To study more? Or to join the workforce and start contributing to your CPF? (Or to work for a year and then study more?) To be idealistic, looking for that perfect job? Or to be realistic, taking what comes?

I don't know how many people actually still think about this now but the idea of wanting to do better than the last generation is probably not new. Like our parents probably dreamed of living in HDB flats and working in the new industrial estates rather than following their parents', our grandparents', footsteps in the family farm. And my hopes of living in a penthouse with a fantastic view and my other hopes about my future employment.

This "doing better" notion is always hanging around my conscious thoughts somewhere. It is real. I have the potential of earning hell of a lot more money when I start working. I really do. So sometimes I just feel like I should get the *bleep* out of school faster and start working. (In the mean time I should not spend so much of my parents' money). I guess for some of my contemporaries whose parents are university graduates and working professionals (or whose family is quite happily well off), this is entirely irrelevant. Or just less relevant. I don't know.

I wonder if I should do post-grad and spend more time in school or go out and start earning my keep. The unemployed feeling is... uncomfortable. I should be supporting my parents or something.

Commencement. Well, I had better not screw up my honours year. Ok, let's not mince words here. I WANT A FIRST CLASS. I want to do my parents proud. I want to do myself proud.

So before Commencement 2007 comes around, here's presenting a member of the Class of 2006: Congrats! (heh, again.)