Regain my love for life

The spawn of Tom Cruise and Katie Holmes. I present you….baby Suri!

At least it gave me a smile today.

Someone mentioned what an abundant head of locks she’s got there.

31st August 1957—Malaysia gain independence from foreign powers. Celebrate celebrate! Woo hoo!

Merdeka!

I had one bad day recently.

I found out that I failed one of my marketing paper. I was incredulous. I couldn’t believe it. Here I am, a marketing major, one of the best marketing students in my batch, marketing as my favourite subject…

...and I failed it.

For the first time in my life, I cried failing a paper!

I didn’t cry when I practically flunked my Physics in high school (aced in when O-level finally looms around, cramming baby! I tell you, I didn’t understand half of the things I wrote in that paper), didn’t blink an eye on failing Statistics and Accounting 1, but I cried like a baby failing Marketing 3.

I think it was shock. Of course it was. I mean, here I am thinking I’d score well like I always do in Marketing papers but I ended up failing! What the…?

After a few minutes of crying, an enraged me called up my lecturer demanding an explanation (my my, sheer audicity and rudeness, but this is my grades we’re talking about here, people!).

Guess what? 80% of the class failed. Only 2 passed. And only 2 qualified for a resit, me included. The rest will have to repeat. Now how f@@ked up is that? 80% of the class (including the 2 who passed) are graduating students. GRADUATING STUDENTS! This means that their graduation will have to be postponed just because of a stupid shortcomings in credits.

Isn’t the board questioning why 80% have failed, and why only 2 are qualified for a resit? THE QUESTIONS WERE SO MISLEADING IN THAT PAPER! I found out I was failed on 2 questions where my answers were totally off the mark, as are the rest. The only 2 that passed were the ones who end up with the correct answers.

There was nothing to be done, as according to the school because the best students are the ones that passed and the other 2 that qualified for a resit. They couldn’t make provisions for the others because in any other circumstances, they would have scored an ‘just acceptable’ grades anyway so failing a paper isn’t strange on their account and it can’t be debated effectively to the BOD. I pointed out “acceptable, but a PASS. We’re graduating this semester!”

I think I’m not the only one shocked. I should guess practically everyone was shocked to their bones. I mean come on! We all think marketing is an easy subject!

I’m still fuming over it but when I think about it, I guess arrogance was the key. The fact that 2 best students in the class failed and had to resit is a sign of overconfidence, and the fact that the other 2 that passed were actually below our scores. There were not that confident, they were cautious in answering it. Whereas the two of us who ended up resitting it were so confident of our ability to even care to read it carefully and think about the ‘other meaning’ of the question or however you say it.

I have to resit it on the 7th, and…I’m not sure if it is even worth reading for it. I was revising it 2 days ago and find out that I’m already well prepared for the paper even if I have to sit for it a dozen time because it is still my best and favourite subject. My main problem that led to my failure was the fact that I interpreted the questions wrongly, not from lack of knowledge.

I’m concerned at the fact that even if I scored 90% or 80% in this resit paper, my transcript will not show the grade. Means I will not be having a “A”, “B” or “C” for this paper but I will end up with an “RP” (Resit Pass) no matter how well I write it.

Still, I’m thankful that I could resit it instead of repeating it like the rest of the class.

This will teach me to be humble in my areas ‘expertise’!

But I’m still fuming!!!! I wanted all of us to graduate at the same time! This is insane!

After battling gruesome finals, I am home to relax!

Nothing beats home, really. The food (I feel like I’m gaining a pound with every hour!), having my mom around, friendly banter and bullying with my dad and tomorrow we’re off to visit my brother in his college. Next week he’s coming back for his break and I’ve decided to stay back for about a week to spend time with him at home.

It’s unfortunate that we lost our dog and cats just last year! Otherwise it would have been such a great homecoming complete with furry pets.

At least the turtle is still around, hehehe!

We don’t realise how precious life is, and how flittingly life passes us. We wouldn’t know if we will end our tenancy on Earth one day and be called home.

I was so thankful today to God. Thankful beyond words.

My mom has been here since the 27th. She was due to return on the 2nd of August. Her friends asked her if she would like to return to our hometown today (July 30th) with them. My mother said she wanted to spend time with me, so she declined. They told her they could wait for her, they wouldn’t mind, but my mom told them not to bother to lay off their plan just for one person when the other four wanted to return home.

So they did. Drove a long journey home. Four of them. All of them my teachers at one point of my lifetime.

They had an accident. One passed away, the other three were injured.

My mom called me from the hotel room, her voice clearly in shock. I just woke up from my nap and the first thing I thought was “Oh my God…to think that my mom was originally one of the party!”

I was busy consoling my mom and the shock was still on me. It wasn’t until I called my brother a few seconds later that I ended up crying.

I have decided to pray the Rosary everyday and go on fasting for the whole August month for this. Even when I know that is probably not enough for the grace God has shown towards us.

The eldest daughter of the man that passed away was one of my best friend. I honestly don’t know what to say to her…but I feel rotten not calling too…I have called up our mutual friends, everybody is shocked and everybody too is undecided of what to say to her.

What could you say to someone who has lost her dear father, without seeming to say empty words by rote?

I went to the airport today to meet my mom. The flight was delayed so I had time to look around. Before, I would have just sat down grumpily. But I was determine to look at things differently now. I didn’t want to “lose my sense of wonder”, as 43T would have put it. {LOL}

I come to the conclusion I like Arrival Halls than Departure Halls. In the Departure Halls, folks are waving forlornly, saying their strangled goodbyes and hugging each other in tears. Not a pretty sight especially when you yourself is sending someone off.

But in the Arrival Hall, it’s a different environment altogether. Old folks grinning toothily and telling everyone that bothers to listen about their “son coming back from KL/London/US” etc etc, kids pestering their moms about “when is daddy arriving?”, lovers with bouquets eager to meet their other half…

One old lady seeked my help to read the Arrival Schedule. Would she have asked me had I had a grumpy outlook? In Mandarin, she chattered that her grandson is coming from KL for a visit. I have a feeling she doesn’t need me to read anything, she just wanted to talk and tell someone about him.

When I looked around, everyone was so busy looking busy…individualistic lots who want to have nothing to do with anyone but themselves. I almost muttered in my heart but remembered in time that I too was like them once, so I supressed my judgements.

I liked the old lady. She reminds me of my grandmother. Was this how my grandmother used to be proud of whenever I return home for the holidays? Most finds her a nuisance. Me too, sometimes. You can’t blame her. She is used to be the “Madam” of a rich man. She is used to be waited on hand and foot. She is used to being obeyed. She lost part of that world when my grandad passed away. There was no need for an extravagant life for just one person so she make do.

But she has her heart in the right places. She never fails to send me her delicious chillies when she hears I’m coming back. The moment I return home, I know if I should walk straight into the kitchen I would see a container of chilli on the dining table. And always she makes it for me before I return to college. I know also when my brother falls sick, she will dutifully come around with a container of his favourite porridge that my mom and I somehow have never figured out how to make. ASAP. The moment she knows my brother is sick (as he always was when he was younger), she’d start banging pots and pans to whip up the porridge for him. If before my grandma comes my brother refused to eat for no appetite, he’d always devour grandma’s porridge without any coaxing. I doubt this will change even when my brother is a college student now.

I told the old lady about the chilli part, and she grinned and showed me the dim sum she had brought in a container.

“My grandson loves my dim sum…I use to send it to him through anyone going to KL. No one makes this better than I do.” She said proudly.

She told me to take one and I did (I can’t resist dim sum, you see). It was truly amazing. That was the first ever time I’ve ever eaten dim sum with a sort of tangy taste to it. I asked her and she said simply “real grounded pepper and ginger juice”. I told her it was good enough to sell but she shook her head and say it’s only for her to give to her grandkids and great-grandkids if she was lucky to live that long. (I dutifully told her that “Heaven blesses those who are kind.” I don’t forget my Chinese roots despite admiting only at the last minute that I am 1/3 Chinese).

She would not want to sell their privileges to the public.

Wow.

This old lady was so happy. So contented.

I want to be able to be as happy as her when I grow old as well.

Then when you are determined to look at life a little bit differently, and jump out of your comfort zone, you will find little delightful opportunities springing at you from every corner.

It seems that they have been hiding in that corner for as long as you had your sour outlook to life, afraid to show themselves.

I quit traditional dancing in 2002. Right after representing my state and winning my last win for dance.

And now 2006, I am courted once again to dance.

I don’t know where this people heard I was a dancer before, but the point is, they came forward to asked me once I looked “nicer”. God, was I THAT scary before? Was I so fed up with the world that I looked almost snobbish, no one came to me?

Anyway, here I am, after all those years without practice. During the first coreography, I find out (and not happily) that I wasn’t as limber as before and I tire faster. I used to be able to dance hours non stop, traditional dances are more intense but it is not as taxing as modern dances. As in we don’t prance and fly about. A lot of it is concentrated slow movements so there isn’t any reason to tire easily especially when you are considered a seasoned dancer.

But I also regain the joy I had from the music, from the old familiar movements. That same day I dug out my costume and my accessories.

You know what? I’m not that brave yet to put it on and dance in full regalia. I guess I’ll muster that confidence later.

The date is set for 5th August. I want us to win.

Last night I went out to a farewell party for Zel and Ting Ting.

We went first to eat at Pizza Junction. Yum yum. Better tasting than Pizza Hut and significantly less the price. Excellent. Then Zel introduces us to a new hang out called “Chillax”.

To me it sounded like some laxative. :p

But the place is cool! The owner says it’s only open from Thursday to Sunday (oik?) and from 8pm. Under her breath, Hazel says that these people are rich folks, and that the hang out is only a fun venture for them. They can choose to close anytime and go out for movie, without guilty conscience. Cool!

I love the surroundings. It was neo-Japanese like. It wasn’t exactly Japanese, but had enough Zen to…er…ok, I can’t express myself now. But nevermind.

We had Jasmine tea and rose tea, being the wannabe spoilt British brats we were (we’re not British, and we’re too impoverished to be brattish, but just for a day…no harm!)

We tried the drinks they call Dragon Heart, Ocean Blue, something Green and some other drinks with mega fancy swancy name.

Played Taboo, Monopoly, read magazines, read a hardcover book about Cathedrals and played Tarot!

NIIIICCCCEEE!

I discovered lately, for the past 2 months to be exact, that I have turned into a witch. (And not the nice Hogwart kind. More like…a bad Slytherin)

I’ve become easily irritable, quick tempered and even more quick witted and sharp tongue (sometimes at the wrong moment) and I have been told I now have a disdainful swagger (whatever that means).

I have grown obstinate and I feel disdainful. I laugh less and I get angry more. Nothing seems to interest me anymore (I even get bored watching the World Cup, can you believe that? and I’ve missed several races!).

I credit this to my sheer boredom and lack of things to do. And my impatient on finishing of my semester and get my diploma.

Yesterday Cecil told me to look at the brighter side of life because I now unknowingly makes people think I am bored of them.

“I’m talking to you now and you’re acting as if I’m boring you to death.”

Which I admit I am.

I am bored with life.

I am losing my touch to find wonder. I don’t even bother to find out nowadays. It might do me good to find something that I’m interested in again. I’m too bored.

So taking Cecil’s advice, I should start looking for, actively looking for, things that will make me less bored, thus less wicked to people around me.

Boredom is my poison. I should get up and look at the world with wide open wondering eyes.

Starting tomorrow.