Tag Archives: thoughts

“I’m going home.” …But where?

12 Sep

The definition of “home”: The place where one lives permanently, esp. as a member of a family or household.

But that’s not it, is it? The definition no longer applies, I don’t think, to people who move a lot (e.g. to other countries, or to other houses, etc). “Permanent” would then be relative. And I’m not sure what I’m getting at, so this may turn out to be a jumble of stream-of-con. words typed out to simply help myself think. 

And it can’t be that easy. If it were, a problem solved by a mere definition, what would that make the saying “home is where the heart is”? That would be the connotation of “home” to most. Then again, you can’t know for sure where your heart is. How would you then be able to distinguish the places you like and the places you would want to call home? And does liking a place mean that you could call it home? Must it be a specific area or building or can it be a country?

I have a feeling that I’m just messing my own head up, but I can’t put my finger on where and how.

Sorting through the huge convoluted mess that makes up my head right now, I suppose I’m just trying to find a place that I myself would call my “home”. I want to know what kind of criteria I have and which places satisfy them.

Y’know, I don’t really understand the urge to “go home” that people often speak of and I doubt that I ever did. There have seldom been times when I genuinely wanted to go back home–out of boredom, out of the lack of something to do, out of tiredness, out of…whatever. I can’t even remember any. I’ve always been one to want to get OUT of the house, not necessarily to have fun, but mostly just to bring my work/stuff somewhere else where I can concentrate. Even the wi-fi isn’t enough to anchor me at home now, not with all those cafes nearby. (And maybe that’s the problem–I can’t concentrate at home. I’m productive only when I’m outside.) So I guess that my current reside isn’t really the place I should be thinking of.

But if it was just somewhere I liked to be, it would be Dunkin Donuts. But would I call it home? Fuck no.

Now, suddenly leaping back to the saying “home is where the heart is”–assuming that it’s a country that it’s referring to, I pleasantly find myself face-to-face with yet another clusterfuck. After all this moving and whatnot, I somehow can’t find myself being inclined to any country at all. In fact, the only country that I might feel inclined to go and live in is one that I have never previously lived at. Or visited above the age of six. 

The answer eludes me. Perhaps there isn’t an answer. Maybe it’s another of those “if your given name is only something to identify you with and is completely irrelevant to you as an individual, what is your real name and how would you be able to discover it” things. If that’s the case, I’ll just go and perform a Headdesk x2 combo. Calmly and serenely.

I think I just wrote a jumble of random words that, somehow, happens to quite nicely convey how confused I am about this at the moment. 

If I had to narrow my choices down and give them rankings, No.1 would probably be my childhood home in Singapore, because that’s where I grew up and where most of my (happy) childhood memories lie. Second to that would be another reside in Shanghai, one that I moved out of two years ago. But I disagree with these, sort of, because I wouldn’t want to go back to that home in Singapore to live permanently–I think of it as…as where the memories lie? They’re more home to those memories than to me. And although there had been awesome moments in the other, they’re a bit clipped and really, it’s only those bits that I hold on to. Mixed feelings on this one here.

For now, I’ll be content to think that home is where one feels…”at home”. Comfortable. Relaxed. A place that both satisfies the definition of the word and also one’s own criteria. That place would, as of now, and for me, be my room. It’s a huge mess, but I like the mess because it shows life. Most of the time I can’t concentrate on my studies here either, partly because of the mess, but I’m comfortable to say in the least and quite happy with the fact that 1) my stereo, 2) my tablet, 3) my bed are all in here.

This is quite a lame anticlimactic conclusion, I know, especially after all that pointless going in circles and whatnot. But as I had previously warned, this is something of a stream-of-con. post, and I’m just trying to put my thoughts to…paper blog (?) in the hope that they come out as coherently as I’d hoped they would.

I guess they failed me.

If there’s anything you people would like to say, though, please be my guest. I’m going to try and make more sense out of this string of thought later, when I’m not so tired, so any suggestions will be very welcome.

(Also, I might have been paying too much attention to the awesome Homestuck music…)

Longest post so far, I think. 

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No, I’m not wasting my time blogging.

18 Aug

According to my family, I’m wasting my time on the Internet. I can’t seem to make it clear to them that blogging isn’t really wasting time, or that blogging is much better than ogling people’s statuses on Facebook. To them, there’s no difference. Net is Net is Net is Net. But I digress.

Blogging is healthy and productive. And this is why:

1) You have a sense of achievement. There’s a little corner of the Internet that belongs to you, and you even have the web URL to prove it. It’s as if you have your own website, except that it’s free. When you post stuff on it, people can look at it and know that it’s yours. Years later, you (probably) still can look back upon it.

2) It helps you relieve stress and angst and anger. And a lot of other things too. Blogging is therapeutic, in a way. Why do people go to psychologists when they have problems? Psychologists listen and give support. Posting on a blog is like talking to a person, so it pretty much achieves the same effect as going to a psychologist. Moreover, it’s cost-free. I’ve seen anger blogs before, and I’m sure there are many others of similar nature that I haven’t yet seen. Writing enables people to express their emotions in healthy, non-violent and non-destructive ways.

3) And it’s also pretty much anonymous if you want it to be. Admittedly, that won’t do wonders for the pageviews, but if you’re trying to rant and rage about the people around you in everyday life, anonymity should sound pretty good.

4) You get to meet like-minded people/strangers on the Internet. I personally have a thing for talking to strangers, because it’s a) interesting, and b) it doesn’t matter what you tell them. (Not that I tell lies, though, but Omegle and services like that come in useful when you just want to bitch and don’t care who you’re bitching to). You get to meet bloggers in your niche and hopefully make friends with them. This is great, especially if you’re surrounded by assholes in daily life.

5) Writing practice. Or even typing practice. Writing is an important social tool, and sadly people today are writing less and less. It seems that the ability to write coherently and appropriately (also: without emoticons or “haha”s or “lol”s) is becoming increasingly rare. Posting on your blog does count as writing. I find myself being self-conscious about my own because I hate the idea of having others reading my blog when it’s all incoherent and valueless and whatnot.

6) You think more. Your blog gives you something to brainstorm for–especially if you set yourself a target of writing x posts in n days. It could either be the topic, or the argument…or even the makeup of the post.

7) If you stumble across blogs you like, it also means that you read more. Yes, reading. Another thing I dislike about today’s youth (pfft, as if I’m not part of it…) is that THEY/WE WATCH TOO MUCH TELEVISION. TV, to me, is a terrible thing. Roald Dahl pretty much drives this point home in his book Matilda, which I read a few years ago and rather liked. TV does nothing to encourage thought or imagination and merely acts as a pacifier. Reading, on the other hand, can help you with your command of [English] language.

8) Lastly–blogging takes away time that may otherwise be spent on useless activities, such as computer games. Or, you know, Facebook.

These are the eight points off the top of my head. I’ll probably try and come up with more, but there’s the feeling that the rest will sound forced. So tell me if any of these don’t make sense (or if they do), because they do to me. For the last time, I just want to make it clear that in no way does blogging equal to time-wasting.

This post-rain, clear-skied, somewhat angsty afternoon

12 Aug

I wish I could say that I was above all that pathetic, emotional, sentimental shit–but I’m not. Time to face the fact that I’m just another hormone-ridden teenager and that I’m not excused from having feelings, even if I’m relatively manly and all that. This isn’t really the time for me to worry if I’m posting TMI and/or too much personal shit, but tell me if I do. Mercilessly. I can imagine how annoying it is for you when I keep posting random crap nobody can relate to, so…yeah.

To give you an idea of how decidedly teenager-y I’m being at the moment, this is the song I’m listening to: Wish You Were Here, by Avril Lavigne. Normally I don’t listen much to her songs, but this is an exception. Uh, it’s probably got to do with the fact that I can sorta maybe occasionally relate to the lyrics a little.

And so I’m sitting here at this kitty-cafe at the moment where all the cats are ignoring me, listening to music playing so loudly in my ears that I can’t even really hear myself think–just the way I like it. Just the way I like to whenever I get sad-ish less awesome. Because everyone has those days, right? The awesome thing about loud music is that it flushes out all the angsty thoughts and fills the space with drums and bass guitars and screaming instead. At this precise moment, it’s keeping me from thinking about how I used to pride myself on hardly ever writing cliched teenager stuff. It’s also trying to keep away thoughts about how I’m doubting that I’ll ever have any success in my love life, but this song is just making it worse. Meh, time will tell. This bout of self-pitying will blow over, and I’ll get over whatever I need to get over, and I’ll be my usual awesome self again.

I know for a fact that neither shit blows over that easily nor do I get over things that quickly (incoherence? sorry it must be the guitars/timpani), so I’m going to help myself here a bit:

MANLINESS FTW! I AM SO AWESOME! HELL YEAH! GUNS! EXPLOSIONS! VODKA! FISTFIGHTS! BEER! BOOBS

So…yeah. Moping and complaining is uncool and decidedly un-awesome.

Examples of what IS awesome instead (Playlist!):

(All the below songs are by Superchick unless stated otherwise.)

  • Cross The Line
  • Anthem
  • One Girl Revolution
  • Semi-Charmed Life (Third Eye Blind)
  • This Is How A Heart Breaks (Rob Thomas)

Yup. See, I have the (imaginary) balls to get over my teenage angst. I remain awesome.

Me: 1, Teenage angst: NIL.

Would You Rather…

11 Aug

Um, hi people, I’m trying to consciously stop myself from beginning yet another post starting with the word “so”. SO…I’ve been doing some art-y stuff (yay), but it’s not finished yet and therefore I’ll save the pictures for later. Adele’s album, “21”, is blasting here in the living room and so it shall be the music you will blame when you realize that this post is just as incoherent as all the others.

Meanwhile, I’ll answer a series of “would-you-rather”s that I found here.

1. Would you rather have sex with a beautiful woman who just so happened to have gills (big ones, but where ever you want to put them, I don’t care), or with an equally beautiful woman who is a major creepy? -like worse than that kid in high school that would follow you around and smelled like piss. And ladies, feel free to take the converse of this, unless you’re a lesbian. Then I guess the original works just fine.

Although I’m not planning to do that anywhere in the near future, I’d take the gills. Gills mean that the dude can breathe underwater, which is cool unless he tries to drown me, but creepiness…is no. It’s neither useful nor cool. 

2. Have a child who will invent the cure to cancer but you’ll never be able to meet him/her, or raise a child that won’t do anything special but you’ll know him/her their whole life?

A child that will invent the cure to cancer. Man, that’s doing the world a favor. And it’s also an investment, lest I need it in the future. A normal kid would just, like, watch me die and cry on my blanket and shit like that. 

3. Let’s say you were immortal. Would you rather live to see the world end and end with it, or float alone around the universe for infinity?

Alone? Alone sucks, man. I’d rather end with the world. If I knew the exact date, I even have the perfect death planned out. I’d drink my brains out, party like hell, do all the drugs I can find, then jump out of a really tall building in my intoxicated, drugged state (preferably crash out of a large window superhero-style). And enjoy the flight.

4. If you had to be one of the following animals, would you be a gold-fish or a dragon fly? (Given both have about a two week life span)

Dragonfly. 1) I can fly, 2) I can go anywhere I want–not just some stupid tank where people forget to change the water. No sir, no murky water for me.

5. Someone tries to mug you in a dark alley. Like a boy scout, you’re prepared and stab him. The wound looks pretty serious- would you rather take him to the hospital for medical help or leave him in the alley to receive his just desserts?

Take? Nah, I’d probably call the police and stuff. And then leave.

6. Would you rather learn a new language or pick up a new skill?

Depends on what “skill” means. Superpower, yes. The ability to weave baskets, no.

7. Would you prefer a zombie apocalypse or a natural disaster to create the inevitable future dystopian society?

…Natural disaster. I am ashamed of my wimpiness, but rotting corpses sort of creep me out major.

8. Would you rather get your heart broken by the love of your life or break someone to whom you are the love of their life to spare yourself the pain?

I really don’t know. Haven’t met. 

9. Would you rather be a painter or a writer? (Like really fucking good at the one you pick- maybe the best ever)

Aw fuck, these are both what I want to be. Writer, probably, although…ARGH! This is just the wrong kind of question to ask me! …yeah. 

10. Would you rather show up early to a party or late to an interview (given that either would be equally bad in some way or another)?

Early to a party. I’m so awkward anyway, it probably wouldn’t matter.

11. Would you rather be a successful sell-out or a struggling purist?

Struggling purist. 

12. Would you rather live in a super-hip metropolitan area or in a small, rural village miles away from civilization?

Haha, super-hip metropolitan area, since I’m so reliant on cafes and the Internet. Holidays to rural villages would be awesome, though. 

13. Would you rather know when and where you would die but not how, or how you would die but not where or when?

I’d want to know where and when. Then, I can design my own death. But if this was to do with fate and all that…my designing my own death would be part of the fate, right? And therefore whatever I decide to do would be the “how” part to my death?

14. Would you rather fall down the aisle at a bowling alley or get pegged by a billiard ball in a bar? (They’re both super crowded)

Having been to the bowling alley only once, I have no idea. 

15. Would you rather be a princess trapped in a tower and waiting to be saved or a pirate who will be on the run for his whole life?

I’d choose pirate, because being saved is just so cliche, but knowing me–I’d die 10 times over within a month (sucky, sucky sports skills). So I prefer the tower, as long as I have books, the Internet and generally stuff to do.

16. Would you rather be roomies with (for guys) Enrique Iglesias or Robert Pattinson? (for girls) With Natalie Portman or Kristen Stewart?

Who’s Natalie Portman? …Kristen Stewart, then.

17. Would you rather drink a pint of your own piss or a pint of water from the Jersey Shore hot tub?

Uh…my own piss. Stop looking at me like that–

18. Would you rather be a 50s pin-up girl or an 80s glam rocker?

80s glam rocker, hell yeah. I am so not a pin-up girl. Also: 80s music is awesome! How could I resist?

19. Would you rather wake up in the morning feeling like P. Diddy or now feel so fly like a G6?

Damn, I neither know who P.Diddy is nor what a G6 is (some kind of airplane?). I have no idea how it feels like to be them. I’ll go with the G6 because I want to know what being an airplane feels like. Yeah.

20. Would you rather be a super awesome Earth Child or a wicked cool cyberpunk?

Seeing as I don’t know what an Earth Child is…cyberpunk sounds good to me.

I don’t know why I felt that this would be necessary for me to post on my blog, but I enjoy doing quizzes like this that make me think about myself. Sometimes even really simple questions can put light to some hidden aspect of your personality that even you yourself hadn’t previously noticed. I just love moments like those.

And if anyone feels like answering these questions too…give a shout! 

I Kinda Wish I Could Dance

5 Aug

The title and topic of this post (Well hello blog, I have abandoned you for some time now, but isn’t it great that it was only temporary?) is partly because Jitterbug, by Wham, is playing in my ears. Oh hell yeah, old-fashioned classic dances.

List of awesome dances that I wish I could dance:

1) Jitterbug: An awesome leg-kicking, foot-tapping mess that I can’t make head nor tails of, but is awesome anyway. It looks all cheery and whatnot, especially those awesome dancers who can dance really fast and do acrobatics to it.

2) Charleston: I failed to find satisfactory videos of it, but I’m convinced that it mustn’t be that bad. Something tells me that it’s going to be pretty similar to the Jitterbug–I don’t know. All these dances influence each other, so I suppose it shouldn’t be too out of sync…

3) Boogie Woogie: It. Is. Awesome. Oddly comical, too. I can’t put my finger on how it differs from the Jitterbug, but there must be a difference somewhere…Okay Wikipedia, here I come. With a name like that, how can this dance not be awesome?

4) Tango: Just…really…fiery. And passionate, in a rawr-you-piss-me-off-let’s-see-who-gets-dizzy-first-and-falls-over way. It’s sort of cute, really.

5) Waltz? My impression was that the waltz is easier than the others. Correct me if I’m wrong, but all it brings to mind is Chopin (dun dun dun dun dun, dun dun, dun dun,…okay how many people actually know what I’m talking about?)and a 1-2-3-1-2-3 count. And twirling, and poofy dresses. Probably toe-stepping, too. Oh, and Cinderella (wtf?).

Anyway.

It’s probably the piano-playing, classic music-enjoying part of me that’s screaming that these old-fashioned, classic dances are way beyond the modern pop dances that are leading the trend right now. How could you not smile while watching the Boogie Woogie? And while these are artful blends of style and movement, what we’re seeing in music videos and live performances nowadays are vulgar, overly sexual displays that would probably be better-suited to the bedroom. Rihanna, Shakira, Lady Gaga…you get the gist. What happened to dancing as an art? It isn’t supposed to simply be an excuse to perform erotic movements or anything creepy like that. Dances have their own historic and cultural background too, just like music.

Then again, looking at how today’s music is–actually, I’d rather not. That rant will have to wait.

Part of me really wishes that schools still taught these dances, and that there would be balls held from time to time (mind.out.of.the.gutter.NOW). But I guess that’s just how society progresses. We live in a world where the pace is getting faster, and the skirts shorter. Morals looser.

If only I had the willpower to find a dance school and actually learn to dance, instead of blogging about it.

(I haven’t had any coffee yet. Forgive me for any incoherence and whatnot in this post; I’m too lazy to proof-read it myself. :D)

Social Clusterfnckery…(ies)

29 Jul

So I guess this post has even less potential than my other posts to ever become Freshly Pressed, due to its title.

Imagine this: you have a classmate whom you never really knew them as a person. Then one day, you guys hang out and have a good time. Maybe you become more familiar, occasionally meeting up after school or calling each other. You may or may not stick together during the day.

Then, imagine: that he/she proclaims that you’re one of his/her best friends. You have different friends, hobbies and even values perhaps, but it doesn’t stop them from declaring that you’ll be “BFFs”. You aren’t sure if they’re joking or being serious, and you seriously contemplate your situation before giving your reply. If you acknowledge it, it might come with undesirable side effects. If you outright deny it, you’ll sabotage your relationship with them. In the end, you smile and change the subject.

Yeah, the above situation is pretty much fail, but less than rare. So. Ever tried drawing a Venn Diagram of all the friends and people you encounter on a daily basis? Tried to sort them out by level of friendship? I ended up with such a massive and complicated key that I confused myself in the end, and had to group the people I was dubious about into one big group. Unlike the way most people would, I didn’t call that group “Friends”. I called it “Acquaintances” instead.

I  don’t see the point of calling everyone my “friend”. If I don’t speak to you at least twice a day (where studies or courtesy was not involved; “excuse me” doesn’t count) or make any contact with you online, I group you in default category “strangers”. Facebook doesn’t count, but conversations on Msn Messenger do. I had a lot of trouble explaining to my mom last year when I told her that I “didn’t know” more than half the class. Knowing a person’s name isn’t enough. Being in the same class, grade, or school doesn’t necessarily mean that I know them or even want to be acquainted to them. This doesn’t make me the easiest person to befriend. I’m happy to leave it this way.

Acquaintances to me are people who another might call friends. They could be people you meet randomly at dinner parties. Colleagues. Classmates. Neighbors. Someone you hang out with, eat with, have fun with…whatever. In essence, people who I know too well to be considered strangers are acquaintances, and they stay that way unless they somehow move into the Friend category. Which doesn’t happen at all often.

I can count the people that I consider my friends on one hand. Suffice it to say that I don’t really consider someone a friend unless I’m comfortable in the knowledge that they won’t give my secrets away and maybe even lie to protect them. Uh, and lots of other things, but I don’t really want to elaborate. Maybe it’s all part of my belief that a person can only have so many real, lasting friends, but I’m finding that few people share my views. Most people have a nice conversation with someone and declare themselves friends–something I have qualms doing.

And here I’m going to rant a bit:

1) I do not sympathize with those people who run around screaming betrayal when they’re the ones spreading their secrets all over the place. Maybe it’s a keeps-you-popular thing, but I don’t see why anyone would be stupid to the point of telling multiple people about their deepest, darkest secrets (okay, probably not this dramatic). It’s either that you’re faking the importance of the secret, or that you’re a dimwit. Or maybe both. Always confide your secret to one person and one person only, so that if it leaks, you can trace the culprit. I learned this the hard way.

2) What grates on my nerves too is when people suffer multiple “break-ups” with their many “BFFs”. If you’re Best Friends Forever, you shouldn’t be bitching about/ignoring/trying to strangle each other, unless that’s all part of your friendship (although highly doubtful). And if you religiously stick to fighting each other once every week, it makes others wonder, quite seriously, how much value your “BFF” title holds. And eventually I feel sorry for them, but only a little.

3) And another thing: I don’t understand “temporary secrets”. I’m sick of keeping my mouth shut for people left and right only to discover that they’d spilled the beans a week ago, and that “uh, it doesn’t matter anymore, everyone knows now”. What happened to that “Sh, don’t tell anyone or I’ll kill you”? Shrug.

Yeah, I’m not the most socially-savvy or the most compassionate/friendly/warm person. Maybe I’m trying too hard to sort emotional shit out using logical methods; I don’t know. I normally try not to talk about this because it makes people think I’m cold-blooded. Too late.

I’ve probably offended all my acquaintances friends. Oops.

Then again, I appear to have a habit of disliking people upon meeting them as my first reaction–I’ve disliked/hated/insulted most of the people in the past whom I get along with now.

I genuinely think that writing this incoherent word salad is a mistake. A sugar-and-coffee-fueled one, but a mistake nonetheless.

Summertime!: Not so exciting

26 Jul

I’m serious. I’m a total couch potato who would subtly destroy opportunities to get outside, so I’m going to do what I always do best during times like these–namely, sit in a cafe and surf the Internet.

I think what I’m trying to say is that although I’m glad to have some free time on my hands, I wish I had something more productive to fill it up with. I spent this morning wasting time on the Internet–literally–and my afternoon is slipping by in a haze of boredom and tiredness. Somehow, this feeling reminds me of the past summers I’ve had. It also reminds me of why I signed up to do work experience in the first place.

Yeah, I guess it is. Dull.

To earn some cash and in a desperate attempt at productivity, I’m spending about five hours a week doing the piano thing. It’s just sitting with them for an hour and telling them how to practice, but at least that’s doing something. The last kid just left around an hour ago and I’m still recovering from her aftereffects. That has got to be the most tiring, unproductive hour in my tutoring-thing history. Last time I covered an entire page with another kid; this miss barely got through half. *headdesk*

Two episodes of Daria, a cookie and an hour later, here I am, sleepy and exhausted despite having had no physical exertion whatsoever. I’ll go and look for a movie to watch later.

But first, a coffee. And it looks like I’ll have to plan for the rest of this month.

Work: the Last Day of

25 Jul

After countless harrowing days, a business trip and a bout of impromptu sickness, my internship finally draws to an end. I don’t mean to sound as relieved as I do, but the prospect of being able to get up whenever I want to–at last!–and having the option to laze around at home sounds immensely promising to me. No more rush-hour traffic. No more emails from the boss. Goodbye corporate drudgery and hello to long hours in cafes. Yes!

Regardless, I think this work experience was definitely worth the time and effort. Lots of things learnt on my part…and now I’m going to list them here. Perhaps this will save you from a brutal wake-up from your Utopian office dream in the future; I don’t know. Hope so. Anyway, to sort out my thoughts (and share them with you), and break the news gently…

  1.  Halfway into the first week I realized that school really was better than work. What my parents and teachers have been trying to tell me is actually true. School is infinitely more relaxed and it has a much happier atmosphere. (Unless, of course, you work at Google.) Teachers are way better people to be confronting than bosses and managers.
  2. Friends are scarce in the workplace. Once again, this backs up my “school is better than work” theory. You have friends in school, even if said friends are jealous and bitchy and fight a lot. You can talk with them freely and make crude, dirty jokes. Nobody cares. You don’t have to worry about sending them gifts or sucking up to them just because they’re in a higher grade. At least, not really. You don’t have to worry about them badmouthing you to your boss or cutting down on your salary or giving you impossibly difficult tasks to do. Neither do I have to, but it’s apparent that the assistants suck up to the managers. Ugh.
  3. Your boss doesn’t care how you do your job or how difficult it is for you. Unlike your teachers, you can’t go running to Mr. Boss every time you encounter a problem. If the boss says “put the elephant into a refrigerator”, it’s your job to locate the elephant, and truck it around. It’s also your job to get someone to make/buy a fridge big enough to fit an elephant inside. If you ask your boss, he’s just going to tell you to find someone and give you a contact number at most. Sigh.
  4. If you don’t plan your time, then you’re not going to get everything done. Anything, even. You might not, even with a fully functional schedule. Bosses have a habit of popping up at the least convenient time and assigning a new task to you. So…work avalanche. Not pretty (not very relaxing either).
  5. Bugging people pays off, and it’s worth the annoying looks they give you. Being nice and giving them time may very well mean never getting them to do it. The tasks that my boss gave me that he didn’t bug me about are still lying there. I’m never going to get around to doing them…last day, remember? Do whatever it takes to get the people to do it. They’re going to do whatever it takes for them to not do it. Damn.
  6. If you can pull it off without sounding overly insolent or rude, negotiate. I didn’t know you could do that until I heard another manager do it. The boss sat down with her and they negotiated about whether or not they should have a meeting on Monday. She even told him that she had too much on her hands and that if she did this extra task he was trying to set her, she would have less time to complete that other, more urgent job. Thatwas an eye-opener. Lesson learnt! …But it may have something to do with the fact that she’s a senior worker, I guess.

That’s my internship in a nutshell. We just had lunch outside (boss’s treat!) and are back in the office again. So…all in all, I’d say that my time was well spent, and that I learned more than I had hoped to. It was different, in a way, from my expectations. Apart from all the social skills, my translating skills–and tecchy skills–were also put to the test, via Translating A Website And 10,000 Other Documents. But it’s a good thing. I can now create and upload websites. Yay?

And last but not least, a thank you to all the people at my company who have been friendly and nice and supportive. I’ll miss you…and maybe, just maybe, we’ll meet again next year.

Another two hours, and then I’m going to settle into full Relaxation Mode.

Edit: I think I forgot to mention that they said that I was welcome to work there next year, too–which explains the “we’ll meet again” part, I think. Also also–did I forget to say that I’m tutoring kids on the piano? With income! Hell yeah!

I don’t know.

22 Jul

Here I am, sitting in the office for the last day and eating a McDonald’s burger. For some reason, the song I’m listening to reminds me of…some people, I guess. Maybe I do give a shit, after all. Less than I used to, but more than I should.

I’m thinking about last year. Maybe my middle school years will forever be categorized as “Grade 9 and before” and “After Grade 9”. Things have changed over the past year. I’ve changed. So have other people. And I’m not sure if I really wanted to, but that’s life, I guess, and the people around you inevitably shape the bits of you that you don’t control if you’re not careful.

…This is another short, strange and completely nonsensical blog post made in a state of dazedness.

Sorry people, this is one of those bad days.

Instead, let me give you a lil’ playlist:

  • Just My Imagination – The Cranberries
  • Wish You Were Here – Avril Lavigne
  • Nothing Left To Lose – The Pretty Reckless
  • Semi-Charmed Life – Third Eye Blind

There you go.

China’s Got Talent…?

10 Jul

Last night welcomed one of the final rounds of the China’s Got Talent competition. I’m not sure if I should call it a competition, because it’s more of a show…whatever. Despite the voices of the thousands–millions–of people who love the it, I honestly can’t say that I always enjoy what I see. Perhaps I’m going to be hypercritical in this post; bear with me please and point it out as you see fit.

As Wikipedia puts it:

Talent Show:  is an event where participants perform their talent or talents of actingsingingdancingacrobaticsdrummingmartial arts, playing an instrument, and other activities to showcase a unique form of talent

Well, first of all, a talent show should have talent more than anything else. Ever since the success of Liu Wei in the show (yes he’s good, I grant him that, and I don’t think he’s using his handicap as a pity-gaining tool), more and more people have come onto this show with more story than talent. I’ve seen about more than five people who have come to the stage, failed in their performance, then blurted their sad story in hope of salvaging it. “China’s Got Talent” isn’t–and shouldn’t be–somewhere people advertise their hardships. While this can be done in moderation, it’s unhealthy for anyone to think that it is where they should place their emphasis. The contestants’ backgrounds are important, but the performance should be judged fairly according to–you guessed it–talent. Thankfully, this happens less and less as the show progresses, and the judges take less mercy.

If only the judges were more professional in their comments and focused less on “with your background–” stuff. I’m tired of them letting a contestant go onto the next round simply because “you remind me of…”, “with your background…”, or “because you put so much effort…”. What I want to hear is their stand on their performance. Their talent. Their skill. Is “you remind me of my father” such a good reason for letting them pass? It doesn’t do the performer justice and hardly shows the credibility of the judge.

With the gargantuan number of people in China (which is still growing, too), I wouldn’t be surprised if people appeared with talents like “falling from high places without breaking bones”. I sound like a hypocritical bitch, but I’d really like it if the show could re-organize and rethink the criteria so that the contestants could have some sort of category they could fit into. Currently I feel that we’re not only trying to compare apples and oranges, but a whole variety of fruits, vegetables–and hell, cheeses. I don’t mean that they should take away the misfitting talents (no offense of course)–I’m all for having variety–but if they’re not going to judge by talent and talent alone, it’s going to make it difficult for everyone to find a fair response to the performances.

I know there are flaws in my argument. I admit that I’ve not watched many episodes of other “XXX’s Got Talent” shows before, and I’m not pretending otherwise. But what I’ve seen here on my TV screen lately hasn’t done a great job in impressing me, so I’m going to just stick with looking forward to further developments and improvements on “China’s Got Talent”.

But hey, a girl can at least try to put her (if only semi-formed) thoughts into words, so yeah.

Tell me what you think! Arguments against me are, too, welcome.