Shame on me for quarterly posts, but I will try to stop the backslide.
It's been frantic. The second project was frantic in an "I'm a retard with Excel" kind of way but the third one has just been plain frantic in a "Yes, please waste an hour of my life telling me what I already know/you're clearly just as confused as I am" kind of way.
After working on a couple of kickass projects, this one feels like a really bad hangover that just won't go away. The workload has been poorly estimated all around in terms of timing and basic execution, and actuaries are anal, and it's been extended three whole days. I almost cried when I knew.
Over the past month, I've realised that a single espresso doesn't do it anymore, but a double shot at 4pm will crush me the next day.
On the bright side, I know what not to do when I'm finally let loose with a first year of my own and what industry I will never touch with a ten-foot pole. Even brighter still, we're leaving for Tignes in 12 days. I've had three months to practice saying it so I don't completely embarrass myself.
I'm having Oreos for dinner, courtesy of Tom and Nat.
Also, I love the random fact generator - I could sit and refresh it all day, but my html-genius of a sister couldn't get it to fit in my sidebar, which would've been much cooler. Ahem. Cheryl, you know what you have to do. This morning her factorizer read "The first draft of the Lord of the Rings featured Cheryl instead of Frodo Baggins. It was five pages long. Cheryl round-housed Sauron's ass half way through the first chapter." Totally made my day. I really need rescuing.
Monday, December 10, 2007
Tuesday, October 16, 2007
Bad juju
Weng has bad bus juju: The bus will speed away just as we're coming up to the bus stop no matter how fast we run.
Cheryl has even worse bus juju: The bus never comes.
I have bad baking juju: My oatmeal cookies come out of the oven fused into a single sheet of biscuit, and my fairy cakes look like this.
Cheryl has even worse bus juju: The bus never comes.
I have bad baking juju: My oatmeal cookies come out of the oven fused into a single sheet of biscuit, and my fairy cakes look like this.
Sunday, October 14, 2007
Like a peach
I've finally gone paintballing and I've got a story. I hope to finally go clubbing at some point too, and I'm sure that'll be another entertaining story, but for another time.
Paintballing is basically a good excuse to shoot things at your friends. It involves little yellow balls of paint that squish deceptively easily underfoot, but when fired out of a pneumatic gun, cause so much pain that when I was dealt my first stinging shot on the shoulder blade, I actually froze midstride, which earned me two more bruises. Paint ball guns are phenomenally inaccurate, that's the only way you actually hit someone - sheer luck - and you can be pulling away on the trigger as someone charges you from 20ft away and watch in vain as the little balls veer to the left and right.
I've got a couple of visible bruises I can wear fairly proudly, and I'm sure I would've had at least two or more had I not been shot in the head twice by vagrant paint pellets. I'm sporting a spectacular bump, but my hair's in the way, so it's not as dramatic. Here's a summary of my bruising:
Paintballing is basically a good excuse to shoot things at your friends. It involves little yellow balls of paint that squish deceptively easily underfoot, but when fired out of a pneumatic gun, cause so much pain that when I was dealt my first stinging shot on the shoulder blade, I actually froze midstride, which earned me two more bruises. Paint ball guns are phenomenally inaccurate, that's the only way you actually hit someone - sheer luck - and you can be pulling away on the trigger as someone charges you from 20ft away and watch in vain as the little balls veer to the left and right.
I've got a couple of visible bruises I can wear fairly proudly, and I'm sure I would've had at least two or more had I not been shot in the head twice by vagrant paint pellets. I'm sporting a spectacular bump, but my hair's in the way, so it's not as dramatic. Here's a summary of my bruising:
- Left quad x 1
- Inner thigh x 2
- Left arm x 1
- Right shoulder blade x 1
- Skull x 2
Tuesday, October 09, 2007
The Office
It's amazing how incredibly aware you get of the person sitting next to you. It's not like we're jammed in shoulder to shoulder or anything, in fact this desk is bigger than anything I've ever had through my four years at Uni, but all the same, I could sit back in my stylishly ergonomic chair with my eyes shut (time and work permitting) and know exactly who's doing what. Ringtones are easy but the rhythm of someone's mouse and keyboard gives away almost as much.
We also have a tin of cookies in the office. Some 'premier selection' or other that involves a lot of chocolate and some biscuit in various shapes and sizes. When I first got here, I thought it was awesome, and it would magically refill every time it got empty. Six weeks on and I shudder to even look at the cupboard where boxes and boxes of this stuff is kept. We also get fruit delivered twice a week, but you gotta be quick, or you'll be left with the last, most dessicated looking orange in the pile, and even that'll go by lunchtime.
One of the upsides I can think of working in a firm that's largely male is that there's never a queue for the bathroom. Although whoever designed the toilet paper dispenser and the toilet roll should be shot. There is too much tissue on the entire roll (you'll probably never hear that one at home) and it rests against the inner wall of the dispenser such that you can only ever get the paper out square by square, because the perforation isn't strong enough to withstand the entire bulk of the roll. Worse still, when you have to twist your arm up into the dispenser to find the end of the roll, and then proceed to pull it out square by square until you've collected enough.
Network printing is another thing that is beyond me (Regressions, I can now handle). You need to remember to set up two-to-a-page, double sided (because trees are good things), and tell it to collate so you're not the idiot sorting through reams of paper. Then you have to choose one printer out of about twenty three, choose which pages you want and how many copies you need and finally hit print. You then walk all the way to the printer of your choice and stand there waiting for it to start, only it doesn't. You dash back to your computer, thinking you've probably sent it to one of the other twenty two printers, and run around the third floor printers hoping that it hasn't gone to the second floor instead. Then it starts all over again.
To be fair though, I haven't been all that desperate for Fridays. Still eager.
We also have a tin of cookies in the office. Some 'premier selection' or other that involves a lot of chocolate and some biscuit in various shapes and sizes. When I first got here, I thought it was awesome, and it would magically refill every time it got empty. Six weeks on and I shudder to even look at the cupboard where boxes and boxes of this stuff is kept. We also get fruit delivered twice a week, but you gotta be quick, or you'll be left with the last, most dessicated looking orange in the pile, and even that'll go by lunchtime.
One of the upsides I can think of working in a firm that's largely male is that there's never a queue for the bathroom. Although whoever designed the toilet paper dispenser and the toilet roll should be shot. There is too much tissue on the entire roll (you'll probably never hear that one at home) and it rests against the inner wall of the dispenser such that you can only ever get the paper out square by square, because the perforation isn't strong enough to withstand the entire bulk of the roll. Worse still, when you have to twist your arm up into the dispenser to find the end of the roll, and then proceed to pull it out square by square until you've collected enough.
Network printing is another thing that is beyond me (Regressions, I can now handle). You need to remember to set up two-to-a-page, double sided (because trees are good things), and tell it to collate so you're not the idiot sorting through reams of paper. Then you have to choose one printer out of about twenty three, choose which pages you want and how many copies you need and finally hit print. You then walk all the way to the printer of your choice and stand there waiting for it to start, only it doesn't. You dash back to your computer, thinking you've probably sent it to one of the other twenty two printers, and run around the third floor printers hoping that it hasn't gone to the second floor instead. Then it starts all over again.
To be fair though, I haven't been all that desperate for Fridays. Still eager.
Sunday, October 07, 2007
When your knees buckle, but your belt won't
Random parts of my body are aching, often those associated with encroaching age. We only played a couple of hours on Saturday, which made me feel fantastic for the rest of the day. Then Sunday morning rolled around; every movement was accompanied by a grimace and I found my hands involuntarily supporting my lower back.
So I also tried updating my iPod this weekend, but got confused, so Cheryl helped. Then she kindly went through her collection, playing me song snippets that suddenly sounded all too rock. Looks like I'm going to have to start turning to Tish. I've joined the grey side.
So I also tried updating my iPod this weekend, but got confused, so Cheryl helped. Then she kindly went through her collection, playing me song snippets that suddenly sounded all too rock. Looks like I'm going to have to start turning to Tish. I've joined the grey side.
Thursday, October 04, 2007
Still lovin' it
I'm a month in and still enjoying myself. I was blessed with a very understanding and an incredibly patient job manager who told me I didn't need to come in on time every day. After spending a week worrying about protocol, I've finally relaxed and my brain is no longer in a blank state of panic. I think I've moved a little past the moron mode, although the IRC know my name and probably think I'm an idiot for sending the wrong data request twice. The awesome part is I can wear jeans into the London office. I heard, in Spain, you can even wear a t-shirt. I love this firm. And there's a guy working here that looks like Mr. Anderson. Our part on this project is wraps up tomorrow so I'm waiting to see what's next.
Monday, September 10, 2007
Eager beaver
Finding an unsecured network that barely hooks up on one bar is almost as thrilling as watching the Rugby World Cup kick off; owning a laptop that isn't tethered to the wall or a router, even more so. This job is turning out to be incredible. True, we haven't actually started proper work yet, but it is so awesome just being part of it all. I'm a happy bunny.
Wednesday, August 29, 2007
Slow, fast, fast, slow.
Slow: The first five days of our two week long holiday in New Zealand complete with rain, hail, and a bad cold.
Fast: The last nine days of our holiday in New Zealand, struck dumb by awesome natural beauty time and time again and lots of mini golf.
Fast: The three days between New Zealand and London were only 8 hours long.
Slow: The jetlagged way the clock is ticking over to bedtime.
Fast: The last nine days of our holiday in New Zealand, struck dumb by awesome natural beauty time and time again and lots of mini golf.
Fast: The three days between New Zealand and London were only 8 hours long.
Slow: The jetlagged way the clock is ticking over to bedtime.
Wednesday, July 25, 2007
My first tag
I think Sarah is the first ever person who's tagged me, so I can't possibly ignore it, for fear of the Sarah-ness.
1) Each player must post these rules first.
2) Each player starts with eight random facts/habits about themselves.
3) People who are tagged need to write on their own blog about their eight things and post these rules.
4) At the end of your blog, you need to choose eight people to get tagged and list their names.
5) Don’t forget to leave them a comment telling them they’re tagged, and to read your blog.Here are 8 little known facts about me:
One: I love baby food, but only the fruit type, too bad it comes in such tiny bottles.
Two: I saved my sister from drowning when she was about 10 months old and about half my weight. I was 6 and could barely keep myself afloat. I frequently used this to garner favors, until I accidentally tried to kill her 18 years later by locking her lazy butt in the car.
Three: I saved my brother from getting beaten to death by my sister. He was barely a couple months old, but Cheryl already wanted to beat him bloody. She was two. He never fully appreciates this, no sort of leverage works on the boy.
Four: I cannot speak any language other than English, despite what my CV says.
Five: I really hate peas. They give me goose bumps and make me retch. Oh, and carrots, cucumber, and coriander.
Six: My boyfriend tries to force-feed me the above vegetables, except the peas, he also doesn't like peas.
Seven: At the moment, I'd rather have puppies than children.
Eight: I still believe in monsters.
1) Each player must post these rules first.
2) Each player starts with eight random facts/habits about themselves.
3) People who are tagged need to write on their own blog about their eight things and post these rules.
4) At the end of your blog, you need to choose eight people to get tagged and list their names.
5) Don’t forget to leave them a comment telling them they’re tagged, and to read your blog.Here are 8 little known facts about me:
One: I love baby food, but only the fruit type, too bad it comes in such tiny bottles.
Two: I saved my sister from drowning when she was about 10 months old and about half my weight. I was 6 and could barely keep myself afloat. I frequently used this to garner favors, until I accidentally tried to kill her 18 years later by locking her lazy butt in the car.
Three: I saved my brother from getting beaten to death by my sister. He was barely a couple months old, but Cheryl already wanted to beat him bloody. She was two. He never fully appreciates this, no sort of leverage works on the boy.
Four: I cannot speak any language other than English, despite what my CV says.
Five: I really hate peas. They give me goose bumps and make me retch. Oh, and carrots, cucumber, and coriander.
Six: My boyfriend tries to force-feed me the above vegetables, except the peas, he also doesn't like peas.
Seven: At the moment, I'd rather have puppies than children.
Eight: I still believe in monsters.
Sunday, July 22, 2007
Back in KL
I got back by the skin of my teeth, barely making my ride home at 5.30pm. I sat with Godwin at the visa agency for what felt like an eternity before they called out my name, each of the twenty long minutes sank me further and further into despair. I was expecting to wait until everyone else had been served before being told that my passport hadn't been returned yet, but when they called me name, I was out of there like a shot.
So the week I was in Singapore consisted of a lot of grief, namely the visa agency, the weather, and how quickly the taxi meters tick over. I was so stressed out getting my application together and then waiting for it that I've developed a twitch in my right upper eyelid. However, I am ever so grateful to Godwin, Phin, Lester, Viks, Ming, and Chris for entertaining me. It was so good meeting up with them. I now have a new favorite place to go to in Singapore besides the ice cream place on 6th Avenue - Chocolate by Max Brenner serves orgasmic hot chocolate.
It was also wonderful spending some time with my Grandma, trying to scratch together a few sentences in Hokkien. It was a pathetic attempt for someone of my ethnicity, but a huge victory for me when, for once, it wasn't met by a completely blank gaze or side-splitting laughter. My cousin, on the other hand, has reached that age where meal times have all the volatility of a war zone.
Now to start another week of yoga and relaxing. My weeks are disappearing so quickly. Eeee.
So the week I was in Singapore consisted of a lot of grief, namely the visa agency, the weather, and how quickly the taxi meters tick over. I was so stressed out getting my application together and then waiting for it that I've developed a twitch in my right upper eyelid. However, I am ever so grateful to Godwin, Phin, Lester, Viks, Ming, and Chris for entertaining me. It was so good meeting up with them. I now have a new favorite place to go to in Singapore besides the ice cream place on 6th Avenue - Chocolate by Max Brenner serves orgasmic hot chocolate.
It was also wonderful spending some time with my Grandma, trying to scratch together a few sentences in Hokkien. It was a pathetic attempt for someone of my ethnicity, but a huge victory for me when, for once, it wasn't met by a completely blank gaze or side-splitting laughter. My cousin, on the other hand, has reached that age where meal times have all the volatility of a war zone.
Now to start another week of yoga and relaxing. My weeks are disappearing so quickly. Eeee.
Tuesday, July 17, 2007
First prize for thinking
Visa lady: Can I see your passport?
Me: Sure (Hands her a Singaporean passport)
Visa lady: Can I see your IC?
Me: Um...is my passport not enough? But okay... (Hands her a pink Singaporean IC)
Visa lady: Ah, I see you're Singaporean. (In a moment of revelation.)
Me: -_-
She then asked me to go and photocopy my IC to submit it along with the rest of my application tomorrow to make "doubly sure". Apparently the passport doesn't really count. She's right, they were just handing them out at the door.
Me: Sure (Hands her a Singaporean passport)
Visa lady: Can I see your IC?
Me: Um...is my passport not enough? But okay... (Hands her a pink Singaporean IC)
Visa lady: Ah, I see you're Singaporean. (In a moment of revelation.)
Me: -_-
She then asked me to go and photocopy my IC to submit it along with the rest of my application tomorrow to make "doubly sure". Apparently the passport doesn't really count. She's right, they were just handing them out at the door.
Sunday, July 15, 2007
Before I go
Buffets are the most entertaining times to people watch, when they have to wrestle their gluttony in the public eye. Like that guy that grabbed the nearest thongs and tried to dive into pile of salmon sashimi, only to be stopped by the chef and told to use the long fiddly chopsticks instead, or the woman who picked up every single piece of fish on the plate to check its underside. I wasn't sure what she was looking for, but Cheryl said to tell her that 'the gold is underneath the tuna' the next time I saw her.
I'm totally addicted to Michael Buble's 'Everything'. It makes me so mushy feeling. That and 'Before he cheats' by Carrie Underwood. I'm waiting for Malaysian radio to ruin those songs for me though, through a severe case of overplaying; the way Elliott Yamin's voice triggers an immediate finger on the presets.
I'm off to Singapore tomorrow morning. I'm seeing how quickly I can get in and get out, preferably with my entry clearance in tow. Hopefully they won't stop me from re-entering Malaysia, thinking I've just ducked into Singapore for 48 hours to refresh my visitor's pass. Not that I want to be completely antisocial and not see anyone, in fact I've already got a dinner booked for Monday night and lunch on Tuesday, but I'm so desperate to just rest at home before the great New Zealand adventure kicks off in two weeks or so. Holidays abroad with my family always seem to feel like they go at breakneck speed, especially when Mum's idea of sleeping in is 8.30am (9 O'CLOCK ALREADY! GET UP!).
My summer is running by as fast as a good book.
I'm totally addicted to Michael Buble's 'Everything'. It makes me so mushy feeling. That and 'Before he cheats' by Carrie Underwood. I'm waiting for Malaysian radio to ruin those songs for me though, through a severe case of overplaying; the way Elliott Yamin's voice triggers an immediate finger on the presets.
I'm off to Singapore tomorrow morning. I'm seeing how quickly I can get in and get out, preferably with my entry clearance in tow. Hopefully they won't stop me from re-entering Malaysia, thinking I've just ducked into Singapore for 48 hours to refresh my visitor's pass. Not that I want to be completely antisocial and not see anyone, in fact I've already got a dinner booked for Monday night and lunch on Tuesday, but I'm so desperate to just rest at home before the great New Zealand adventure kicks off in two weeks or so. Holidays abroad with my family always seem to feel like they go at breakneck speed, especially when Mum's idea of sleeping in is 8.30am (9 O'CLOCK ALREADY! GET UP!).
My summer is running by as fast as a good book.
Wednesday, July 11, 2007
I just don't understand
How can someone who goes to church every week, has been baptised no less, and calls himself a Christian turn his back on the very thing he is supposed to uphold and lie to his parents? Let's not talk about the fact that the lie was about skipping class (again). His completely hypocritical actions make me sick to my stomach.
We stood in line wondering if we should go to the trouble of buying him and his friends movie tickets because that was where he was supposed to be after school, instead of at a cyber cafe during class. We thought of calling but checked the time and thought he would be in class and therefore not a good idea to distract him. The fact that Mum even let him go out on a school day is something we would never have even dared ask for.
Fine, we can sympathise - it's hard for a boy to grow up with two older sisters, so the special dispension he's been getting his whole life maybe makes up for that. Like the way he was given RM400 the very same morning to buy an iPod Nano, while Cheryl still hangs onto her disc player; or the way he's already thinking about replacing his six month old phone, and I'm still clinging to my four-year-old Nokia that sparks exclamations of surprise that anyone even still has that model.
It's not as if he works outside of school hours and let's not talk about the huge amounts of grief he caused us by spending more time on WoW than actually studying during his last exam session. His grades aren't stellar, although he certainly doesn't lack for brains. He's the sort who thinks he can pass math without lifting a finger outside class to practice. He has to sit through hours of tuition so someone can babysit him, at the age of seventeen, and makes sure that he studies some. Computer every night for four hours is apparently not enough, although we were barely allowed two hours during our A levels, he cuts class without flinching to go to a cyber cafe despite repeated promises never to go again during term time.
When Mum was interrogating him this afternoon, I could not for the life of me think why she would keep on asking the same questions. I wanted to jump in and stop her. Obviously she knows her son better. Lies. All lies. His empty promises amount to nothing.
How can one boy showered by so much love and generosity do this? We've been taken for fools, the leniency we show him only gave him a chance to take advantage of us. The betrayal is intense. It felt like I've been sucker punched, flooded by waves and waves of disappointment. The glimmer of hope I hang onto that he's finally grown up gets slimmer and more distant every time. I can only imagine what Mum is going through.I don't know what to think of him anymore.
We stood in line wondering if we should go to the trouble of buying him and his friends movie tickets because that was where he was supposed to be after school, instead of at a cyber cafe during class. We thought of calling but checked the time and thought he would be in class and therefore not a good idea to distract him. The fact that Mum even let him go out on a school day is something we would never have even dared ask for.
Fine, we can sympathise - it's hard for a boy to grow up with two older sisters, so the special dispension he's been getting his whole life maybe makes up for that. Like the way he was given RM400 the very same morning to buy an iPod Nano, while Cheryl still hangs onto her disc player; or the way he's already thinking about replacing his six month old phone, and I'm still clinging to my four-year-old Nokia that sparks exclamations of surprise that anyone even still has that model.
It's not as if he works outside of school hours and let's not talk about the huge amounts of grief he caused us by spending more time on WoW than actually studying during his last exam session. His grades aren't stellar, although he certainly doesn't lack for brains. He's the sort who thinks he can pass math without lifting a finger outside class to practice. He has to sit through hours of tuition so someone can babysit him, at the age of seventeen, and makes sure that he studies some. Computer every night for four hours is apparently not enough, although we were barely allowed two hours during our A levels, he cuts class without flinching to go to a cyber cafe despite repeated promises never to go again during term time.
When Mum was interrogating him this afternoon, I could not for the life of me think why she would keep on asking the same questions. I wanted to jump in and stop her. Obviously she knows her son better. Lies. All lies. His empty promises amount to nothing.
How can one boy showered by so much love and generosity do this? We've been taken for fools, the leniency we show him only gave him a chance to take advantage of us. The betrayal is intense. It felt like I've been sucker punched, flooded by waves and waves of disappointment. The glimmer of hope I hang onto that he's finally grown up gets slimmer and more distant every time. I can only imagine what Mum is going through.I don't know what to think of him anymore.
Tuesday, July 10, 2007
Fluffiness
I've slept 20 hours over the last couple of days trying to fight off a flu that Weng generously gave me. That's a lot, considering I've only averaged seven hours a night since getting back. I've just been lying around all day today too, looking at everything through a super fluffy haze. I hate being ill on a holiday, there's just too much to do.
Good news came this morning. My work permit's been approved and is on its way over. Now I just have to get my butt down to British High Commission in Singapore and all should be good for the September start.
I'm also really looking forward to the Kim Possible movie this Saturday. It's going to be followed by two back to back episodes of the new season!!1! I kid you not, I've been waiting for two whole weeks! But I'll be at Wings, so I'll have to set the VCR. Ah, technology.
Oh, and the people at the Massimo Dutti store in Bangsar Village are snobby, pretentious twerps. Actually, the lady sitting at the information counter in Bangsar Village is a ... grumpy bum.
Good news came this morning. My work permit's been approved and is on its way over. Now I just have to get my butt down to British High Commission in Singapore and all should be good for the September start.
I'm also really looking forward to the Kim Possible movie this Saturday. It's going to be followed by two back to back episodes of the new season!!1! I kid you not, I've been waiting for two whole weeks! But I'll be at Wings, so I'll have to set the VCR. Ah, technology.
Oh, and the people at the Massimo Dutti store in Bangsar Village are snobby, pretentious twerps. Actually, the lady sitting at the information counter in Bangsar Village is a ... grumpy bum.
Monday, July 09, 2007
Shiokness
There is a reason that one of my yoga classes is quite simply called "Hot". They close all the windows and the door and turn on the heaters, then you proceed to do a series of poses where you're completely distracted from the pain by the rivers that course down your face and gush off the tip of your nose. Some poses are impossible because you just cannot get a grip on the sweat-slicked limb(s) involved.
I also got a new baby. A beautiful Canon IXUS 850. I haven't been this thrilled with a camera since my last IXUS that took a walk somewhere between Southampton and South Kensington three years ago. I'm going to guard this one with my life. Given my rather limited photography talent, I love how you can just point and shoot with this camera and the picture quality is amazing.
I finally have an excuse to put up pictures. Here's half the youth from CBC - there are so many of us now, it's fantastic.
After lunch on Sunday there was torrential rainfall, so much so that Joel commented that our church was now waterfront property, blessed by a raging river flowing down the hill on it's right.
I also got a new baby. A beautiful Canon IXUS 850. I haven't been this thrilled with a camera since my last IXUS that took a walk somewhere between Southampton and South Kensington three years ago. I'm going to guard this one with my life. Given my rather limited photography talent, I love how you can just point and shoot with this camera and the picture quality is amazing.
I finally have an excuse to put up pictures. Here's half the youth from CBC - there are so many of us now, it's fantastic.
After lunch on Sunday there was torrential rainfall, so much so that Joel commented that our church was now waterfront property, blessed by a raging river flowing down the hill on it's right.
Tuesday, July 03, 2007
Contentment
Being home is bliss. The good food, clean house, comfortable bed, and loved ones all around more than makes up for the chores. I don't have to worry about what to eat next, and we haven't had to so much as look at soy sauce chicken, leeks and chicken, oven chicken, or steamed egg. Thank goodness.
Popped down to Singapore last week, just as the flu was setting in. I must've passed it to at least the half of the country that crammed themselves into Orchard Rd. The new things I bought distracted me sufficiently though, so all was well in the end I suppose.
Other than that, it's mostly been a flurry of important things like facials, food, threading, food, pedicures, food, and yoga to counter the eating. Oh, there was also the small issue of finalising things for our place next year. Weng and Cheryl managed to secure one in the last week they were there, which is excellent news and buys me another week of home time.
I want to stay here forever though.
Popped down to Singapore last week, just as the flu was setting in. I must've passed it to at least the half of the country that crammed themselves into Orchard Rd. The new things I bought distracted me sufficiently though, so all was well in the end I suppose.
Other than that, it's mostly been a flurry of important things like facials, food, threading, food, pedicures, food, and yoga to counter the eating. Oh, there was also the small issue of finalising things for our place next year. Weng and Cheryl managed to secure one in the last week they were there, which is excellent news and buys me another week of home time.
I want to stay here forever though.
Friday, June 22, 2007
Chasing
I chased HR to get started on my work permit application, who chased their lawyers. A lawyer chased me for transcripts. I chased my registry for transcripts. The lawyer chased me for more information. I filled in the blanks and then chased them back to hopefully get it in time for the Singapore trip. They chased me for transcripts again. I chased the guy doing the transcripts for my transcripts. Now that the transcripts have finally been sent and they have all the information they need, the lawyer and the HR person are on leave for the next week.
We're also chasing flats, but it's more like: Chase the agent, make an offer, wait with baited breath. Get out bidded.
We're also chasing flats, but it's more like: Chase the agent, make an offer, wait with baited breath. Get out bidded.
Thursday, June 21, 2007
Premenstrual
I should probably apologize in advance to everyone I might speak to over the next few days.
Wednesday, June 20, 2007
Up the mountain, down the mountain
We went running today on the hill in Taman Tun. 'Running' was a little over ambitious, we ended up walking most of the narrow tarmac road as it wound through the rainforrested hill.
The whole forty minutes or so was very much based on the motto 'What goes down, must come up'; my thighs welcomed the downhills, but my mind was very much focused on the fact that there would be another uphill bit soon after. I think my body was also a little overwhelmed by the sheer volume of fresh air and oxygen.
Mr. "I'm so fit, prepare to lose" couldn't keep up with us or many of the groups of aunties that passed him, and we lost him around a few bends, so Mum kept calling his name really loudly to try and get him to walk faster. The whole hill and all of its daily walkers now know who Bryan is.
The whole forty minutes or so was very much based on the motto 'What goes down, must come up'; my thighs welcomed the downhills, but my mind was very much focused on the fact that there would be another uphill bit soon after. I think my body was also a little overwhelmed by the sheer volume of fresh air and oxygen.
Mr. "I'm so fit, prepare to lose" couldn't keep up with us or many of the groups of aunties that passed him, and we lost him around a few bends, so Mum kept calling his name really loudly to try and get him to walk faster. The whole hill and all of its daily walkers now know who Bryan is.
Tuesday, June 19, 2007
Early in the morning
I made dinner for my dog yesterday, a wholesome blend of canned dog food and white rice, and then I dropped her bowl and it landed the wrong way up. My dog sat there and looked at me, refusing to touch it until I had scooped it all back into her bowl. It's impossible to scoop mush off the floor and she's a dog.
The house hunt is getting exciting. We're getting there, I think. Weng is getting stressed and tired, Cheryl's washed her hands of it and has started her manufacturing course, and all I have to do is get up early for the report every day.
My brother beat me in Scrabble yesterday, although Dad still beat us even though he was trailing most of the way. A late game rally saw him pip Bryan by one point. So anyhow, my brother now has bragging rights. Not like anyone needed to give it to him though, because his ego's kind of self inflating anyway.
My back muscles feel a little battered, but it's so great - goodbye back fat! I <3 yoga. I'm so hungry, going to find something to eat.
The house hunt is getting exciting. We're getting there, I think. Weng is getting stressed and tired, Cheryl's washed her hands of it and has started her manufacturing course, and all I have to do is get up early for the report every day.
My brother beat me in Scrabble yesterday, although Dad still beat us even though he was trailing most of the way. A late game rally saw him pip Bryan by one point. So anyhow, my brother now has bragging rights. Not like anyone needed to give it to him though, because his ego's kind of self inflating anyway.
My back muscles feel a little battered, but it's so great - goodbye back fat! I <3 yoga. I'm so hungry, going to find something to eat.
Good pain
There was a yoga class this morning where I basically subjected myself to muscular torture for 60 minutes, discovering that all my tendons and ligaments feel two inches too short. I staggered to the car to get whisked off to a massage, facial, and pedicure.
The lady giving the massage was crazy strong, and I was involuntary tensing whenever she pushed too deep into a muscle, which only made her push harder. It was a downhill battle. I chose a nail colour in a state of exhaustion and relief that the massage part was over, but when I next convinced my abs to tense enough so that I could see my toes, they weren't that colour. The colour choosing part must've been some sort of formality, but they did have pretty tiny flowers painstakingly drawn on. I felt really bad that someone had invested so much time in nail art when I'm probably going to be a clumsy oaf and chip the paint in a few days' time.
I could, though, really get used to this sort of life.
The lady giving the massage was crazy strong, and I was involuntary tensing whenever she pushed too deep into a muscle, which only made her push harder. It was a downhill battle. I chose a nail colour in a state of exhaustion and relief that the massage part was over, but when I next convinced my abs to tense enough so that I could see my toes, they weren't that colour. The colour choosing part must've been some sort of formality, but they did have pretty tiny flowers painstakingly drawn on. I felt really bad that someone had invested so much time in nail art when I'm probably going to be a clumsy oaf and chip the paint in a few days' time.
I could, though, really get used to this sort of life.
Saturday, June 16, 2007
Here and there
I'm so jet lagged. Averaging five hours of sleep a day and I've been back three nights already. The water retention is pretty bad too, I feel like one of those desert toads. Or at least I hope it's all water weight, which is a lot easier to ditch than fat weight. Just waiting for it to fall off. Anytime now. Just waiting. C'mon.
My first night back, I sat in front of the TV and watched an entire hour's worth of E! before realising that our old boxy thing is now a super sleek flat screen. I can't wait for football to start. Dad complained that since E! started as one of the free channels, that's all they watch when mum has the remote. Yesterday I must've watched the same entertainment news cast three times, and I've established that their target audience can only understand things in lists of ten.
It's pretty funny watching my mum and dad try to arrange our trip to New Zealand. My mum is uber proactive, we think she'd be CEO of something or other by now if she stayed in the work force. My Dad on the other hand is pretty laid back.
It's a little confusing coming back to so much random food in the fridge, which is very full, only I can't seem to find anything to eat, like bread.
On my first day, I got boxed in. I can still parallel park, which I'm pretty impressed with, but some auntie toting a massive LV concoction parked her Harrier and locked me in.
Running with my dog is pretty fun. She gets really happy. My mum came too, and Perdy was so paranoid about being left behind, she didn't want to stop and take a poo, which is usually why she's so desperate to go out in the morning in the first place.
I'm really enjoying life at home. Not once in the last three days has someone asked me "So what are you cooking for dinner?".
My first night back, I sat in front of the TV and watched an entire hour's worth of E! before realising that our old boxy thing is now a super sleek flat screen. I can't wait for football to start. Dad complained that since E! started as one of the free channels, that's all they watch when mum has the remote. Yesterday I must've watched the same entertainment news cast three times, and I've established that their target audience can only understand things in lists of ten.
It's pretty funny watching my mum and dad try to arrange our trip to New Zealand. My mum is uber proactive, we think she'd be CEO of something or other by now if she stayed in the work force. My Dad on the other hand is pretty laid back.
It's a little confusing coming back to so much random food in the fridge, which is very full, only I can't seem to find anything to eat, like bread.
On my first day, I got boxed in. I can still parallel park, which I'm pretty impressed with, but some auntie toting a massive LV concoction parked her Harrier and locked me in.
Running with my dog is pretty fun. She gets really happy. My mum came too, and Perdy was so paranoid about being left behind, she didn't want to stop and take a poo, which is usually why she's so desperate to go out in the morning in the first place.
I'm really enjoying life at home. Not once in the last three days has someone asked me "So what are you cooking for dinner?".
My brother will start driving soon
Me: Where do I turn? You have to tell me in advance! Do I keep left now?
Bry: Nah, not yet, don't worry.
Me: How about now?
Bry: No, not yet
Me: Now?
Bry: Nooo....okay now.
Me: What now? You expect me to go through the kancil?!
Bry: Go left! go left! What are you doing?!
Me: There's a car!
Bry: Now! Oh, there's the turn! You missed the turn! Now you have to go all the way up to the u-turn!
Me: -_-
Bry: Nah, not yet, don't worry.
Me: How about now?
Bry: No, not yet
Me: Now?
Bry: Nooo....okay now.
Me: What now? You expect me to go through the kancil?!
Bry: Go left! go left! What are you doing?!
Me: There's a car!
Bry: Now! Oh, there's the turn! You missed the turn! Now you have to go all the way up to the u-turn!
Me: -_-
Don't step on the scales
Prawn mee and milo peng at TTDI. Check.
Nasi lemak and teh peng at Damansara Utama. Check.
Fish head curry at SS2. Check.
Fresh water prawn noodles and honey fried squid. Tonight.
Nasi lemak and teh peng at Damansara Utama. Check.
Fish head curry at SS2. Check.
Fresh water prawn noodles and honey fried squid. Tonight.
In hindsight: On how much you know
At 18, I thought I knew everything.
At 21, I laughed at my 18 year old self for thinking I knew everything, which in no way compared to what I know now.
At 22, I know nothing and it's a little scary.
At 21, I laughed at my 18 year old self for thinking I knew everything, which in no way compared to what I know now.
At 22, I know nothing and it's a little scary.
Friday, June 15, 2007
KL driving
I had forgotten how closely people will follow in their cars here, every inch of road gained towards your destination is a closely guarded treasure, regardless of whether you're halfway up the backside of the vehicle in front.
I had forgotten how no one gives way, diving into the sliver of sunlight that separates the back bumper from the front of the car behind.
I had forgotten how motorcyclists dodge and dive between the more cumbersome four-wheeled vehicles, seeming to appear, as if by magic right in your path.
I had forgotten how people double park with no conscience, park on a blind corner with no second thought, or create a blind corner by parking in an improvised parking space.
I had forgotten how no one gives way, diving into the sliver of sunlight that separates the back bumper from the front of the car behind.
I had forgotten how motorcyclists dodge and dive between the more cumbersome four-wheeled vehicles, seeming to appear, as if by magic right in your path.
I had forgotten how people double park with no conscience, park on a blind corner with no second thought, or create a blind corner by parking in an improvised parking space.
Tuesday, June 12, 2007
Monday, June 11, 2007
Packing, again.
We've lived a fairly nomadic life since leaving Singapore, never staying in the same house for more than two years. That's about as long as my mum can sit still before she starts calling our housing agent and the boxes. Always packing, throwing half the stuff out, moving, and unpacking.
But once a year is a little bit much, especially when you can't hire a moving crew without donating a kidney. I hate being a student. So now I'm procrastinating on the packing and I've suddenly found direction in my life again.
But once a year is a little bit much, especially when you can't hire a moving crew without donating a kidney. I hate being a student. So now I'm procrastinating on the packing and I've suddenly found direction in my life again.
Saturday, June 09, 2007
Fun and stupid
With it being Friday night and everything, end of exams, and all that, Weng decided he wanted to do something fun and stupid. So we decided to slip Weng a half bottle of cider and play 'Stop the bus' otherwise known as 'Categories'. The categories for tonight were: Bands, six letter words ending in -al, biblical characters, Disney characters, and types of birds. He began to cheer everytime he managed to find a Disney character or a band. By the end of the bottle, he started to lose track of the biblical characters also.
Friday, June 08, 2007
And it's a wrap
Four entire years of my undergraduate life ended today with a mumbled 'Thank you' as I made way for Godwin to give his presentation. I'd been dying to finish as soon as I started fourth year, but today, I actually felt sad.
The night leading up to the presentation was stressful. I didn't realise how hard it was saying "particulate-filled polymer", and I kept getting lost halfway through my dry-runs trying to think of a better way to phrase things. I couldn't recall anything I said today, so I can only hope it made some sense. There weren't many questions after that so I might have convinced them that I knew what I was talking about, or maybe they were just too stunned by the babbling to think of a good question other than "What the hell was that?". Anyway, it's all over, and I feel completely and utterly lost.
At least I have a good book, or several good books rather. I've been splurging for summer reading, completely set on enjoying this break. Getting a parcel is always so satisfying, but Cheryl has taken the initiative to open any thing that comes in a brown box or padded envelope as soon as she gets her hands on it. Half the fun gone, like that.
I can finally sleep in tomorrow. It's a Saturday, meaning no one's going to start drilling into our skulls at 8am. We fight to try and stay in that perfectly cozy place you can only find when you have to get out of bed, which is until about 9am before giving up. Then the drilling and hammering stops as they take their midmorning break. Five days a week of utter frustration, but we're going soon. Thank goodness.
The night leading up to the presentation was stressful. I didn't realise how hard it was saying "particulate-filled polymer", and I kept getting lost halfway through my dry-runs trying to think of a better way to phrase things. I couldn't recall anything I said today, so I can only hope it made some sense. There weren't many questions after that so I might have convinced them that I knew what I was talking about, or maybe they were just too stunned by the babbling to think of a good question other than "What the hell was that?". Anyway, it's all over, and I feel completely and utterly lost.
At least I have a good book, or several good books rather. I've been splurging for summer reading, completely set on enjoying this break. Getting a parcel is always so satisfying, but Cheryl has taken the initiative to open any thing that comes in a brown box or padded envelope as soon as she gets her hands on it. Half the fun gone, like that.
I can finally sleep in tomorrow. It's a Saturday, meaning no one's going to start drilling into our skulls at 8am. We fight to try and stay in that perfectly cozy place you can only find when you have to get out of bed, which is until about 9am before giving up. Then the drilling and hammering stops as they take their midmorning break. Five days a week of utter frustration, but we're going soon. Thank goodness.
Sunday, June 03, 2007
Mundane matters
It sounds like everyone's on a house hunt of some sort. A couple of 1st years came with their agent to look at our flat on Saturday morning. I was torn between wanting to tell them outright that what they were expected to pay for this place was exorbitant, that the quarterly charges would empty their account, and that after the management turn the heating off at the beginning of spring, you'll be left to shiver uncontrollably through the random cold snaps. But it is a big flat, lots of space so you don't get in each others' faces too much and they've just replaced the windows so they're new and beautiful.
I'm not so ready to go home yet although I know my time back home is limited. Maybe its because I'll be leaving on my own, which always sucks, and my first week back will probably involve struggling to 'teach' Bryan A-level Economics, which I largely fluked through myself. Four years on and I can barely help Cheryl with her first year subjects in a course I'm still doing. As for A-level Economics...right. Time to call in the cavalry: Joel.
I've also discovered Ugly Betty. It's like an extended version of The Devil Wears Prada, only the ugly duckling doesn't seem to have a fat hope in hell of becoming a swan, which only makes her even more endearing. I'm addicted, but going back soon, and we're all fighting over bandwidth anyway. So I turned to Amazon.com, which was completely wrong, and left the site with another delivery of books coming in about ten days' time. I guess I'll be eating bread and jam for the rest of the week, which is slightly better than Cheryl, who'll be eating air. I don't starve my sister, her exploding budget has brought it upon herself. Financial control is not a skill that runs through us siblings, it seems. Maybe it's the kind of thing that jumps a generation. Thank goodness for Weng and his spreadsheet though, it could've been worse.
I'm not so ready to go home yet although I know my time back home is limited. Maybe its because I'll be leaving on my own, which always sucks, and my first week back will probably involve struggling to 'teach' Bryan A-level Economics, which I largely fluked through myself. Four years on and I can barely help Cheryl with her first year subjects in a course I'm still doing. As for A-level Economics...right. Time to call in the cavalry: Joel.
I've also discovered Ugly Betty. It's like an extended version of The Devil Wears Prada, only the ugly duckling doesn't seem to have a fat hope in hell of becoming a swan, which only makes her even more endearing. I'm addicted, but going back soon, and we're all fighting over bandwidth anyway. So I turned to Amazon.com, which was completely wrong, and left the site with another delivery of books coming in about ten days' time. I guess I'll be eating bread and jam for the rest of the week, which is slightly better than Cheryl, who'll be eating air. I don't starve my sister, her exploding budget has brought it upon herself. Financial control is not a skill that runs through us siblings, it seems. Maybe it's the kind of thing that jumps a generation. Thank goodness for Weng and his spreadsheet though, it could've been worse.
Saturday, June 02, 2007
Doing absolutely nothingish
I've realized that flat hunting is exactly like the way I shop, and yes, despite the fact that I wear pretty much the same jeans and/or hoodie to school every single day, I do actually buy new clothes. Sometimes. Okay fine, so I'm really fussy, and I guess it doesn't help that when I do go shopping I only have a vague idea of what I want, which infuriates Weng (who actually likes shopping, just not so much with me). I'm very much a 'I'll know it when I see it' kind of person.
Anyway back to the point of this. Basically we went to see a flat on Friday evening that I totally fell in love with. I loved it for its cream carpets, its bay windows, and its price. I walked in and it grabbed me and now I can't imagine living anywhere else. It's the same way when I try on something new that's perfect. Funnily, it's not an impulse at all, even if it does sound like that. I think that's what I wanted to say for now. There's a flat that I absolutely love and if we don't get it, I'm going to be gutted.
That, and also that I'm feeling really lost now that there's nothing to push for or stress out about. The presentation is far away enough to not feel it yet. There are things to do, like book flights and pack I guess.
I don't know what it was, maybe I wasn't totally in the mood, but yesterday when I went to the British Museum, one of the most renowned collections of historical artefacts in the world, I was more impressed with the outside of the building. That's a little harsh, I'll admit. I thought the Egyptian mummies were really very interesting, and some of the exhibits looked exactly like the pictures in my primary school history books, but other than that, it was kinda like: statue, statue, statue, vase, statue, statue, sword, statue vase, vase, vase, statue, statue, statue. Except for the Asia rooms which were more like deity, deity, deity, deity, bowl, deity.
Anyway back to the point of this. Basically we went to see a flat on Friday evening that I totally fell in love with. I loved it for its cream carpets, its bay windows, and its price. I walked in and it grabbed me and now I can't imagine living anywhere else. It's the same way when I try on something new that's perfect. Funnily, it's not an impulse at all, even if it does sound like that. I think that's what I wanted to say for now. There's a flat that I absolutely love and if we don't get it, I'm going to be gutted.
That, and also that I'm feeling really lost now that there's nothing to push for or stress out about. The presentation is far away enough to not feel it yet. There are things to do, like book flights and pack I guess.
I don't know what it was, maybe I wasn't totally in the mood, but yesterday when I went to the British Museum, one of the most renowned collections of historical artefacts in the world, I was more impressed with the outside of the building. That's a little harsh, I'll admit. I thought the Egyptian mummies were really very interesting, and some of the exhibits looked exactly like the pictures in my primary school history books, but other than that, it was kinda like: statue, statue, statue, vase, statue, statue, sword, statue vase, vase, vase, statue, statue, statue. Except for the Asia rooms which were more like deity, deity, deity, deity, bowl, deity.
Thursday, May 31, 2007
Submission complete
Couldn't sleep much last night because I was so anxious about handing everything in today. Got up early, walked all the way to school with my work clutched tightly to my chest, thought to beat the crowd and get it bound.
The repro room was a confusion of binding spines and paper trimmings. Managed to hand it in at 10am the first time. Thought I would feel relieved that everything had been done, but felt a growing worry as I walked away from the undergraduate office. Realised that I hadn't actually checked the page order after binding it. It made me turn around by the time I was two floors up and before I knew it I was asking Matt rather sheepishly if I could have my stuff back to look over. And the pages were really out of order! Mg. Cold sweat. Resubmitted it half an hour later. That's pretty much been the story of my whole year.
The others had funnier stories to tell about what happened to them during the twenty-four hours leading up to 12pm. The usual things about all-nighters, broken printers, messed up margins, stolen reams of paper, and bowel-melting stress. I have a feeling only about half the year managed to get it in on time. The queue for the binders in the repro-room were still pretty long at 12.05pm, and someone was still putting their appendix together at 3pm.
It's actually been a pretty tiring day. I don't know whether to hate or love estate agents, but I definitely hate it when Weng and Cheryl make me do the break up.
The repro room was a confusion of binding spines and paper trimmings. Managed to hand it in at 10am the first time. Thought I would feel relieved that everything had been done, but felt a growing worry as I walked away from the undergraduate office. Realised that I hadn't actually checked the page order after binding it. It made me turn around by the time I was two floors up and before I knew it I was asking Matt rather sheepishly if I could have my stuff back to look over. And the pages were really out of order! Mg. Cold sweat. Resubmitted it half an hour later. That's pretty much been the story of my whole year.
The others had funnier stories to tell about what happened to them during the twenty-four hours leading up to 12pm. The usual things about all-nighters, broken printers, messed up margins, stolen reams of paper, and bowel-melting stress. I have a feeling only about half the year managed to get it in on time. The queue for the binders in the repro-room were still pretty long at 12.05pm, and someone was still putting their appendix together at 3pm.
It's actually been a pretty tiring day. I don't know whether to hate or love estate agents, but I definitely hate it when Weng and Cheryl make me do the break up.
Wednesday, May 30, 2007
So close you can taste it
I'm forty-eight pages, one log book, and 14.5 hours away from the last submission of my undergraduate life. That extra year that I sat and watched my friends graduate and try their wings in the great big post-university world felt incredibly long but also heart stoppingly short. However, if I ever hear anyone mention particle or scanning electron microscope to me again, I will burst into tears.
So tomorrow, when I'm walking down Queens gate, I'm going to feel like I'm carrying a million dollars in my bag. An entire year's worth of blood, sweat, and tears culminating in two copies of my final report and a battered log book. I should probably hire an armoured car.
I'm so done with studying. I've had to scrape the barrel this year in terms of motivation, but it's almost done.
So tomorrow, when I'm walking down Queens gate, I'm going to feel like I'm carrying a million dollars in my bag. An entire year's worth of blood, sweat, and tears culminating in two copies of my final report and a battered log book. I should probably hire an armoured car.
I'm so done with studying. I've had to scrape the barrel this year in terms of motivation, but it's almost done.
Wednesday, May 23, 2007
The escapades of Captain Obvious
W: My tummy hurts.
A: Why? What did you eat?
W: I don't know.
A:Well it couldnt've been anything we all ate, 'coz we're fine.
W: Maybe it was the spaghetti...
A: Oh?
W: Yeah, there were white spots on it.
A: -_-
The next day...
W: My tummy hurts.
A: What? Still hurts or again?
W: Uh, I don't know, it hurts.
A: What crap did you eat this time?
W: The bak kwa (barbecued meet) was expired.
A: But you ate it anyway. -_-
My boy has forced me to appreciate the eloquence of this face. -_-
A: Why? What did you eat?
W: I don't know.
A:Well it couldnt've been anything we all ate, 'coz we're fine.
W: Maybe it was the spaghetti...
A: Oh?
W: Yeah, there were white spots on it.
A: -_-
The next day...
W: My tummy hurts.
A: What? Still hurts or again?
W: Uh, I don't know, it hurts.
A: What crap did you eat this time?
W: The bak kwa (barbecued meet) was expired.
A: But you ate it anyway. -_-
My boy has forced me to appreciate the eloquence of this face. -_-
Sunday, May 20, 2007
Excel insanity
=[(clickcopypaste^2)+(clickdragdeleteclickdragtype^3)+(dragcopypaste^4)]*2,592
=Error.
=Error.
Friday, May 18, 2007
Why my project sucks
Advanced warning of an engineering rant.
So basically I've been fracture testing all year. Knowing me and the way projects generally work, I've been speed testing about 70% of all the specimens I have to do over the last couple of days, two weeks before the deadline. This is how the last couple of days went.
On Wednesday afternoon, I decided to be on the ball and head downstairs to the basement where they keep the high rate Instron - metal monstrosities of high pressure pipes and actuators, to set up my test rig so I would be able to make a bright breezy start on Thursday morning. Anticipating about an hour of setting up, I happily put on a lab coat and started collecting all the bits, spanners and adapters and what not.
It's always challenging to set up because the steel rig is unbelievably heavy, and you need quite a lot of brute force to make sure everything is screwed in tight. Not wanting to seem uber girly and helpless, I did it myself. Too bad the independent streak is not good for the other parts of my body, namely my wrist and shoulder, which twinged very painfully as I struggled to get it onto the chest-high metal base. This was on top of the random spasms that were already shooting through my arm after 16 hours of notching specimens, using an incredibly advanced set of tools consisting of a wooden hammer, a junior hacksaw, and a very sharp razor blade, for which I also suffered numerous cuts - in fact, it is such a dangerous task that one fellow left a trail of blood all the way across the adhesives lab in search of a sink and a band aid.
Moving along, when I had finally lined up the rig square with the machine and the actuator and bolted it down, set the span of the anvils after much grief and a lot of cursing of men and research in general, I was relatively pleased that I had remembered which part went where and that it looked fairly correct and it had only taken me the better part of an hour. Then I turned to look for the striker and the load cell, which were no where to be found. I spent half an hour searching for a small triangular prism and a load cell no bigger than a knuckle in what can only be described as a metal haystack of bolts, rods, adapters, and more metal bits. Further hell broke loose when I had to enlist the help of a lab technician who is rather fond of a rant or two himself, especially regarding missing bits. We gave up after another hour and I decided to email the head lab technician who knew where it had been hidden all along.
Thursday morning, I found the striker and the load cell sitting pretty with my rig on the test machine. Then it was a small task of connecting that to the actuator arm, hooking the cell up to an amplifier, and setting up the oscilloscope. We ran a couple of dry runs, but the machine kept dumping from high pressure to low pressure at the end of the stroke and refused to return. My heart dropped at the though of possibly having to manually move the ram back to the start position after every test. All seventy-seven of them. It would suck. Thankfully though, we discovered that it was just because the ram didn't like using the entire length of its stroke and seemed a lot happier when the start position was a little lower down. I was finally able to start testing two hours later.
The first specimen broke cleanly, as did the second, the traces showing an absolutely gorgeous triangle for both. I didn't think I'd ever be so excited about a set of lines on a computer screen, but I tell you, that was complete satisfaction. Foolishly, I thought all would be well. On the third, the trace that was recorded on the oscilloscope started to look as if a two-year-old child had sat down and tried to colour inside the lines. A small knot of fear settled in my stomach, but thought maybe it was the hydraulics acting up, decided to continue with the tests thinking it might work itself out. Six destroyed specimens later and eight tests that I would clearly have to repeat, and I was starting to get really upset. Each specimen takes me ten minutes to prepare. I decided to double check everything, which is probably what I should have done after the fourth failed test. As it turns out, the striker was loose. Tightening it, the next specimen broke well. I was back on course.
How stupid was I to think that. Two tests later and the noise came back - crazy scribbles in yellow and blue. Two more tests in the hope it would go back to normal, and I was back in the plastic box checking everything again. Smacked my forehead on the striker while trying to see round the back, and found that the wires from load cell to amplifier weren't tight. Gremlins, I swear, the lab is cursed. The next test was back to normal, thankfully, and before breaking the specimen after that, I checked absolutely everything I could think of, even wiggling the striker to make sure it was on tight, which, given my luck, broke off in my hand. Gayness.
I took it to the lab technician who was in a foul mood and was not helpful. Told me very rudely that the thread was shot and there was nothing he could do about it. He said I'd have to go and make a new striker if I wanted to keep testing, which, given my retarded manufacturing skills would have cost me a week which I did not have. A rainbow of curses ran through my head while I tried to maintain a straight face. I trudged back downstairs with a thunder cloud hanging over me. I was so far past caring, I forced the striker back onto the load cell using a spanner and it actually stuck. A couple more turns cut out a new thread in the soft aluminium and I managed to get the alignment I needed. Ha! I had spat in the face of adversity and walked away laughing.
The last hour of the afternoon came around and I was barely through the first 14 specimens with about half to repeat. Suddenly they weren't sitting nicely - the span was too long or the specimen was too short. I was confused and took out my trusty 50sen Popular ruler and found to my dismay that the span was indeed too long. This discovery had effectively negated any of those precious specimens that did break with a distinguishable and understandable trace, since it wasn't to the Linear Elastic Fracture Mechanics standards. The span was too wide. Grief and hysteria. So I adjusted that.
Footsore and covered in grease but angry as hell, I think the gremlins could feel it, and they knew that I would wrench their furry little heads off if I ever saw one. So the basement can get a little lonely sometimes. Every specimen was loaded with a fervent prayer and every 'perfect' trace was orgasmic.
Now I have to go back over each trace and analyze it carefully. About fifteen minutes to a trace, from previous experience, which means that there goes my entire weekend. The sickest thing about this is that all of these results are going to collapse into a single graph, not much bigger than a third of A4, but behind those pretty points on those extremely straight and aesthetic Excel-generated axes lies the blood, sweat, and tears of almost 100 hours of testing. Now you know.
So basically I've been fracture testing all year. Knowing me and the way projects generally work, I've been speed testing about 70% of all the specimens I have to do over the last couple of days, two weeks before the deadline. This is how the last couple of days went.
On Wednesday afternoon, I decided to be on the ball and head downstairs to the basement where they keep the high rate Instron - metal monstrosities of high pressure pipes and actuators, to set up my test rig so I would be able to make a bright breezy start on Thursday morning. Anticipating about an hour of setting up, I happily put on a lab coat and started collecting all the bits, spanners and adapters and what not.
It's always challenging to set up because the steel rig is unbelievably heavy, and you need quite a lot of brute force to make sure everything is screwed in tight. Not wanting to seem uber girly and helpless, I did it myself. Too bad the independent streak is not good for the other parts of my body, namely my wrist and shoulder, which twinged very painfully as I struggled to get it onto the chest-high metal base. This was on top of the random spasms that were already shooting through my arm after 16 hours of notching specimens, using an incredibly advanced set of tools consisting of a wooden hammer, a junior hacksaw, and a very sharp razor blade, for which I also suffered numerous cuts - in fact, it is such a dangerous task that one fellow left a trail of blood all the way across the adhesives lab in search of a sink and a band aid.
Moving along, when I had finally lined up the rig square with the machine and the actuator and bolted it down, set the span of the anvils after much grief and a lot of cursing of men and research in general, I was relatively pleased that I had remembered which part went where and that it looked fairly correct and it had only taken me the better part of an hour. Then I turned to look for the striker and the load cell, which were no where to be found. I spent half an hour searching for a small triangular prism and a load cell no bigger than a knuckle in what can only be described as a metal haystack of bolts, rods, adapters, and more metal bits. Further hell broke loose when I had to enlist the help of a lab technician who is rather fond of a rant or two himself, especially regarding missing bits. We gave up after another hour and I decided to email the head lab technician who knew where it had been hidden all along.
Thursday morning, I found the striker and the load cell sitting pretty with my rig on the test machine. Then it was a small task of connecting that to the actuator arm, hooking the cell up to an amplifier, and setting up the oscilloscope. We ran a couple of dry runs, but the machine kept dumping from high pressure to low pressure at the end of the stroke and refused to return. My heart dropped at the though of possibly having to manually move the ram back to the start position after every test. All seventy-seven of them. It would suck. Thankfully though, we discovered that it was just because the ram didn't like using the entire length of its stroke and seemed a lot happier when the start position was a little lower down. I was finally able to start testing two hours later.
The first specimen broke cleanly, as did the second, the traces showing an absolutely gorgeous triangle for both. I didn't think I'd ever be so excited about a set of lines on a computer screen, but I tell you, that was complete satisfaction. Foolishly, I thought all would be well. On the third, the trace that was recorded on the oscilloscope started to look as if a two-year-old child had sat down and tried to colour inside the lines. A small knot of fear settled in my stomach, but thought maybe it was the hydraulics acting up, decided to continue with the tests thinking it might work itself out. Six destroyed specimens later and eight tests that I would clearly have to repeat, and I was starting to get really upset. Each specimen takes me ten minutes to prepare. I decided to double check everything, which is probably what I should have done after the fourth failed test. As it turns out, the striker was loose. Tightening it, the next specimen broke well. I was back on course.
How stupid was I to think that. Two tests later and the noise came back - crazy scribbles in yellow and blue. Two more tests in the hope it would go back to normal, and I was back in the plastic box checking everything again. Smacked my forehead on the striker while trying to see round the back, and found that the wires from load cell to amplifier weren't tight. Gremlins, I swear, the lab is cursed. The next test was back to normal, thankfully, and before breaking the specimen after that, I checked absolutely everything I could think of, even wiggling the striker to make sure it was on tight, which, given my luck, broke off in my hand. Gayness.
I took it to the lab technician who was in a foul mood and was not helpful. Told me very rudely that the thread was shot and there was nothing he could do about it. He said I'd have to go and make a new striker if I wanted to keep testing, which, given my retarded manufacturing skills would have cost me a week which I did not have. A rainbow of curses ran through my head while I tried to maintain a straight face. I trudged back downstairs with a thunder cloud hanging over me. I was so far past caring, I forced the striker back onto the load cell using a spanner and it actually stuck. A couple more turns cut out a new thread in the soft aluminium and I managed to get the alignment I needed. Ha! I had spat in the face of adversity and walked away laughing.
The last hour of the afternoon came around and I was barely through the first 14 specimens with about half to repeat. Suddenly they weren't sitting nicely - the span was too long or the specimen was too short. I was confused and took out my trusty 50sen Popular ruler and found to my dismay that the span was indeed too long. This discovery had effectively negated any of those precious specimens that did break with a distinguishable and understandable trace, since it wasn't to the Linear Elastic Fracture Mechanics standards. The span was too wide. Grief and hysteria. So I adjusted that.
Footsore and covered in grease but angry as hell, I think the gremlins could feel it, and they knew that I would wrench their furry little heads off if I ever saw one. So the basement can get a little lonely sometimes. Every specimen was loaded with a fervent prayer and every 'perfect' trace was orgasmic.
Now I have to go back over each trace and analyze it carefully. About fifteen minutes to a trace, from previous experience, which means that there goes my entire weekend. The sickest thing about this is that all of these results are going to collapse into a single graph, not much bigger than a third of A4, but behind those pretty points on those extremely straight and aesthetic Excel-generated axes lies the blood, sweat, and tears of almost 100 hours of testing. Now you know.
Tuesday, May 15, 2007
Itsy bitsy
There are so many niggling details to handle now that exams are over and you can't shut them out anymore - bills, house hunting, packing, project work, chores, and basically arranging things for the rest of your life. The house must be really dirty, it inspired Godwin's cleaning spree; then again your tolerance grows with each layer of dust and grime - even Weng's shut an eye to it.
Spent all day yesterday on very little sleep staring at a computer panel that looks like something out of the 70s, blinking green screen and everything, doing microscope work. I don't know why it feels like I'm totally wasting my time, really not cut out for research I guess.
Did enjoy dinner on Sunday night though, and the conversation and dessert that followed, coming up with a hundred half-baked schemes, just like old times. I hope Junlinn gets his ger.
Spent all day yesterday on very little sleep staring at a computer panel that looks like something out of the 70s, blinking green screen and everything, doing microscope work. I don't know why it feels like I'm totally wasting my time, really not cut out for research I guess.
Did enjoy dinner on Sunday night though, and the conversation and dessert that followed, coming up with a hundred half-baked schemes, just like old times. I hope Junlinn gets his ger.
Friday, May 11, 2007
Last night, early this morning
During the drinking game "007 Bang":
"If she bangs me, I'm screwed."
Losing the drinking game "007 Bang":
"Don't worry, the more you drink, the less it will become."
I don't think I've ever celebrated end of exams so emphatically. Granted though, we have just finished our last paper of our entire university life, so I suppose some restitution was in order, and Kenneth is a good cook, and pear vodka is incredible.
Elsewhere the last few days of seemingly nonstop rain have brought a dampness like I've never seen before. That talk of dehumidifiers was a jinx, I tell you. Nothing is ever going to be dry again.
"If she bangs me, I'm screwed."
Losing the drinking game "007 Bang":
"Don't worry, the more you drink, the less it will become."
I don't think I've ever celebrated end of exams so emphatically. Granted though, we have just finished our last paper of our entire university life, so I suppose some restitution was in order, and Kenneth is a good cook, and pear vodka is incredible.
Elsewhere the last few days of seemingly nonstop rain have brought a dampness like I've never seen before. That talk of dehumidifiers was a jinx, I tell you. Nothing is ever going to be dry again.
Thursday, May 10, 2007
Write more, wei
Spent some time refining my procrastinating skills. Facebook doesn't quite cut it anymore, no matter how challenging it is twisting the grammar in your sentence to go behind "Ashley is...". So I visited old sites (Rudy, you need to put up a picture of your dog!), and new, and felt hardworking enough to add some links. Which actually took all of three minutes and a couple of refreshes. You don't need to know html anymore, everything can be done with bright, breezy buttons. I'm terrified I'm becoming old and technologically retarded that soon I won't be able to tell the difference between the latest phone and a small car and will get horrendously ripped off while trying to buy a new computer.
Otherwise, I was supposed to go into school today, but it seems like last night's lateness, half bottle of wine, and the rainy weather has conspired to keep me at home. If I work up the enthusiasm to face the 9am start tomorrow morning and actually get in on time, I shall also have to explain rather sheepishly to my supervisor why I wasn't there yesterday. For the next three weeks, I shall be up to my ears in plastic bits with a couple of wads of Blu tack thrown in for good measure (that stuff is amazing - uber useful), writing about plastic bits until I want to cry, and hopefully submitting the entire thing by the last day of the month in an effort to salvage my year after our hellish round of finals.
I also want to eat everything in sight out of sheer boredom and apathy.
Otherwise, I was supposed to go into school today, but it seems like last night's lateness, half bottle of wine, and the rainy weather has conspired to keep me at home. If I work up the enthusiasm to face the 9am start tomorrow morning and actually get in on time, I shall also have to explain rather sheepishly to my supervisor why I wasn't there yesterday. For the next three weeks, I shall be up to my ears in plastic bits with a couple of wads of Blu tack thrown in for good measure (that stuff is amazing - uber useful), writing about plastic bits until I want to cry, and hopefully submitting the entire thing by the last day of the month in an effort to salvage my year after our hellish round of finals.
I also want to eat everything in sight out of sheer boredom and apathy.
You had to be there
Last night was a parade of some of the most entertaining moments I've seen in a while. Here were some of my favourite.
- Playing My First Uno with Pooh and friends and counting in Malay. Tish won a lot I think, he's sharper than he looks, girls.
- Talking our way through a bottle of wine.
- Talking about living in the same apartment block.
- Recalling how much the boys looked like those snowman-esque characters out of Southpark in primary 6.
- How Tish kept dropping things at dinner.
- Those cute tea strainer and cup ensembles that had Weng looking so disappointed when he lifted off the cover to find what looked like dregs in the bottom of his "cup".
- How it took us more than a half hour to sort out the bill and with two and a half accountants sitting at the table (although the cashier did tally it wrong in the first place). Clearly we've not outgrown our ineptitude at dividing bills and we should all run screaming from little white slips of paper printed in columns of faint blue ink when we've run out of fingers and toes.
- When Hsiang blew out his candles (which didn't actually add up to 22, I think) and the powder off his cake, half of which landed on Terence, the other half dusting the table in a thin layer of rich cocoa.
- How Junlinn loved the cake so much, he grabbed the knife to lick the chocolate off it. I think there's photographic evidence somewhere, which will no doubt turn up on Facebook eventually.
Friday, May 04, 2007
Just one in a multitude of breaks
Sean was right, the pink was not attractive, so I changed it. Good old blue.
It's Friday and I'd normally be over the moon at the prospect of another weekend, but I've long since stopped measuring the passing of time in Saturdays and Sundays, but rather in exam papers. Not that I've had that many this year, but still, they're much more significant markers, just as a death row convict would count down to his moment of reckoning. This year's exams have so far been more than worthy of that metaphor.
I'm sitting amongst different kinds of stationery. Every single one of my favorite pens have run out of ink - something that's never happened before, and I have to find something I'm comfortable with by Wednesday. There's nothing like exams to get me extra fussy about writing instruments. Just the other day, I got so frustrated by my perfectly functioning but non-Pilot mechanical pencil with its 2B lead and the mess it was making, that I rushed out to buy a Pilot one to load with HB lead. However, not even that could save me from the massacre that was my Advanced Stress Analysis the very next day.
Yes, I have a subject called Advanced Stress, the admission of which was greeted with a snort from a certain law student who has units called PE300065512 and CC001FJLlkaks!!. I think, though, it wasn't really his night, so I shall forgive him.
Moving along with more of my quirks, Weng kindly pointed out that when I run, I sound like I'm dying. It doesn't help that even if I am dying, I can constantly see my grinning boyfriend out of the corner of my eye bouncing effortlessly along. It's only made me more self-conscious, and now I have to hold my breath while passing other pedestrians, which just makes for more pain; I already have to think about coordinating my feet and clenching my abs to stop that nagging stitch. Running is proving challenging, but I shall persevere.
I think that's about it. My mum's stopped calling me and is now emailing. I feel that the lack of full stops makes it so I can hear her voice in my head, along with the times she accidentally hits CAPS and doesn't bother to turn it off. Very charming and adorable.
Also, congratulations to Nicole who's just had another beautiful baby!
It's Friday and I'd normally be over the moon at the prospect of another weekend, but I've long since stopped measuring the passing of time in Saturdays and Sundays, but rather in exam papers. Not that I've had that many this year, but still, they're much more significant markers, just as a death row convict would count down to his moment of reckoning. This year's exams have so far been more than worthy of that metaphor.
I'm sitting amongst different kinds of stationery. Every single one of my favorite pens have run out of ink - something that's never happened before, and I have to find something I'm comfortable with by Wednesday. There's nothing like exams to get me extra fussy about writing instruments. Just the other day, I got so frustrated by my perfectly functioning but non-Pilot mechanical pencil with its 2B lead and the mess it was making, that I rushed out to buy a Pilot one to load with HB lead. However, not even that could save me from the massacre that was my Advanced Stress Analysis the very next day.
Yes, I have a subject called Advanced Stress, the admission of which was greeted with a snort from a certain law student who has units called PE300065512 and CC001FJLlkaks!!. I think, though, it wasn't really his night, so I shall forgive him.
Moving along with more of my quirks, Weng kindly pointed out that when I run, I sound like I'm dying. It doesn't help that even if I am dying, I can constantly see my grinning boyfriend out of the corner of my eye bouncing effortlessly along. It's only made me more self-conscious, and now I have to hold my breath while passing other pedestrians, which just makes for more pain; I already have to think about coordinating my feet and clenching my abs to stop that nagging stitch. Running is proving challenging, but I shall persevere.
I think that's about it. My mum's stopped calling me and is now emailing. I feel that the lack of full stops makes it so I can hear her voice in my head, along with the times she accidentally hits CAPS and doesn't bother to turn it off. Very charming and adorable.
Also, congratulations to Nicole who's just had another beautiful baby!
Tuesday, April 24, 2007
In hindsight: On comfortable friends
Big topic.
So the last four years have been a little bit of a rollercoaster - intensely good times followed by silence. There were years where I was completely disillusioned and disappointed (mostly with myself) with those seemingly faithful promises of friends forever made way back in high school. They didn't materialise in the way I expected them to, which sucked at the time. I've probably seen them more this year, even if it's only on football nights, than in the previous three years put together, which is pretty pathetic. I blame it on the great Zone 1 divide - it was them and us. It is definitely very embarrassing that Zone 1 only covers about thirty to forty blocks lengthwise, and we still can't make that distance to see them - only Londoners would understand. This year though it was made a little smaller by a direct bus that goes from outside our door to theirs.
They're still great to hang out with, comfortable, y'know, like pyjamas, but whether we're ever going to get that level of closeness back, that "I so knew you were going to say that" intimacy is going to take a lot of work it seems, not helped at all by our impending careers.
It used to bother me, an anger that at one point translated into not wanting to see them at all - which was easy once the invites stopped coming anyway and the excuses flowed better. There were people who fought hard, but you run out of energy after a while. But I suppose even the strongest of friends grow apart, it had to happen so I finally let it go. It sometimes bothers me now that maybe I let go too easy, that the only way to find out a little bit of what they're thinking or going through is by reading the messages on their Facebook walls from other friends. It sucks, but again, things are getting easier and easier to shelve away, and if they do well-up again, well there's always Facebook for general stalking purposes.
I suppose here's the where the advice starts, only I won't be giving any because it feels like I haven't done well at all, sitting here regretting all the lost time. I only hope that in the years to come, our jobs don't take us too far away. Then again, it might just make us fight that little bit harder to make time for the occasional football match and dinner together.
So the last four years have been a little bit of a rollercoaster - intensely good times followed by silence. There were years where I was completely disillusioned and disappointed (mostly with myself) with those seemingly faithful promises of friends forever made way back in high school. They didn't materialise in the way I expected them to, which sucked at the time. I've probably seen them more this year, even if it's only on football nights, than in the previous three years put together, which is pretty pathetic. I blame it on the great Zone 1 divide - it was them and us. It is definitely very embarrassing that Zone 1 only covers about thirty to forty blocks lengthwise, and we still can't make that distance to see them - only Londoners would understand. This year though it was made a little smaller by a direct bus that goes from outside our door to theirs.
They're still great to hang out with, comfortable, y'know, like pyjamas, but whether we're ever going to get that level of closeness back, that "I so knew you were going to say that" intimacy is going to take a lot of work it seems, not helped at all by our impending careers.
It used to bother me, an anger that at one point translated into not wanting to see them at all - which was easy once the invites stopped coming anyway and the excuses flowed better. There were people who fought hard, but you run out of energy after a while. But I suppose even the strongest of friends grow apart, it had to happen so I finally let it go. It sometimes bothers me now that maybe I let go too easy, that the only way to find out a little bit of what they're thinking or going through is by reading the messages on their Facebook walls from other friends. It sucks, but again, things are getting easier and easier to shelve away, and if they do well-up again, well there's always Facebook for general stalking purposes.
I suppose here's the where the advice starts, only I won't be giving any because it feels like I haven't done well at all, sitting here regretting all the lost time. I only hope that in the years to come, our jobs don't take us too far away. Then again, it might just make us fight that little bit harder to make time for the occasional football match and dinner together.
In hindsight: Intro
I think hot showers inspire me. Standing under the running water, doing an 'emo shot', as Cheryl likes to put it, gets ideas going. I figure that since I'm going to graduate and effectively close another chapter in my life, I think I'm going to write a series of posts, hopefully it won't end up just being this one, about what the last four years have taught me about the last 22 years of my life. So much change has happened, I hardly know where to start. I think I'll go with whatever occurs to me as and when it decides to rear its ugly head, although the lack of structure is almost too much for my orderly engineering thought process to handle. So in no particular order of importance at all, the first one should be right after this.
Monday, April 23, 2007
A little here, a little there
I've had this post window open virtually all day. Logging in was an overly optimistic gesture, the same way saying that I'd get back to blogging regularly again was also much too ambitious. I suppose updating twice in a month is still better than twice in three.
I've been distracted by Facebook, by guilty thoughts about the next exam that is fast approaching, by cravings that I'm trying very hard to suppress.
I have yet to find an epic fantasy series. The Belgariad, Mallorean, and Pratchett - well nothing can compare, quite frankly, not yet anyway. I'm still waiting for someone new to blow me away.
I've been distracted by Facebook, by guilty thoughts about the next exam that is fast approaching, by cravings that I'm trying very hard to suppress.
I have yet to find an epic fantasy series. The Belgariad, Mallorean, and Pratchett - well nothing can compare, quite frankly, not yet anyway. I'm still waiting for someone new to blow me away.
Tuesday, April 17, 2007
Hello, old friend
You know it's bad when I start blogging again, overwhelmed by the pages of derivations and facts that I have to be able to regurgitate by next week. Algebra is twisted that way, letters that aren't used to form coherent words and flowing sentences as God intended, but are instead forced into a mathematical framework that seemingly has no end or purpose. Nature cries out.
I was so desperate to share this with you that I sat through about a half hour and 15 pages of being redirected as Blogger tried to show me how easy it was to move my account to Google.
I would say I've taken procrastination to a whole new level, but I think Weng has beat me to it. We've further doomed out exam/revision period by starting a three player game of Civ4. Yes, if we're going to fall, we're dragging Cheryl with us.
The building management have kindly decided to erect scaffolding across the entire block, front and back. I think it's a scam. They rent miles of steel pole, several square feet of wood board and plastic sheet, thousands of clamps, and hundreds of manhours of cussing, posturing workmen, and then charge the landlords a margin on top of that for a service provided.
My concentration span is hovering around three minutes at the moment, which means frequent breaks and a growing worry that I won't be able to pull through an entire 3 hour exam - it's a marathon. Surrounded by things like broadband, fast food, 30 second advertisements, high impact workouts, and crash diets, three hours is a lifetime.
Then again, the rest of life seems to be going by far too quickly. How ironic.
Oh, new page layout and Frederick the Hamster has died from negligence.
I was so desperate to share this with you that I sat through about a half hour and 15 pages of being redirected as Blogger tried to show me how easy it was to move my account to Google.
I would say I've taken procrastination to a whole new level, but I think Weng has beat me to it. We've further doomed out exam/revision period by starting a three player game of Civ4. Yes, if we're going to fall, we're dragging Cheryl with us.
The building management have kindly decided to erect scaffolding across the entire block, front and back. I think it's a scam. They rent miles of steel pole, several square feet of wood board and plastic sheet, thousands of clamps, and hundreds of manhours of cussing, posturing workmen, and then charge the landlords a margin on top of that for a service provided.
My concentration span is hovering around three minutes at the moment, which means frequent breaks and a growing worry that I won't be able to pull through an entire 3 hour exam - it's a marathon. Surrounded by things like broadband, fast food, 30 second advertisements, high impact workouts, and crash diets, three hours is a lifetime.
Then again, the rest of life seems to be going by far too quickly. How ironic.
Oh, new page layout and Frederick the Hamster has died from negligence.
Friday, January 19, 2007
Freewheeling
Life's rushing by so quickly, it feels as though I'm standing still. Days blur into weeks and my to-do list grows exponentially. Four years of studying feels more than enough, I'm tired of learning things and retaining them just long enough to put down on paper. As things stand at the moment, I doubt I'm going to need any of the tonnes of highly specialised information that I'll have to know inside-out by April. Actually, come April, I'd probably be happy just knowing the 'out'.
I could say that I wish I had worked harder during the last three years that might have put me in a position of minimal stress by the fourth year, but I don't think I've ever worked harder in my life, and I'm going to have to put in another five months of blood, tears, and sweat. Mechanical Engineering is exhausting, but coming out of it, I still wouldn't trust myself to design anything that comes within 400m of any form of life, human or otherwise; "something bad will happen" in the words of our Senior Tutor.
If anything, this year has taught me how tearfully grateful I am for God because I think my own strength ran out a long time ago.
Christmas was a quick breath of home-cooked food, filled with all the guilt of the blank tutorials behind you and that growing feeling of dread as the next term came around with that blackhole of despair between where you're supposed to be and where you actually are. Leaving this time around was very difficult knowing that I don't have that much time left at home.
Having to ask Cheryl if she's dead yet every morning for the first week after touching down while she fought off a nasty cold was also quite stressful . That's why I wasn't too worried and didn't call my mother - she was still able to complain about wanting to die and not being able to breathe. I was also trying to support Weng through a very difficult recruiting season and an increasingly difficult Masters. I think what I'm trying to say is that I'm really tired of having to grow up right now. I want to go home and bum around with my dog, my prawn mee, and my teh peng. I believe the word is "sian".
I could say that I wish I had worked harder during the last three years that might have put me in a position of minimal stress by the fourth year, but I don't think I've ever worked harder in my life, and I'm going to have to put in another five months of blood, tears, and sweat. Mechanical Engineering is exhausting, but coming out of it, I still wouldn't trust myself to design anything that comes within 400m of any form of life, human or otherwise; "something bad will happen" in the words of our Senior Tutor.
If anything, this year has taught me how tearfully grateful I am for God because I think my own strength ran out a long time ago.
Christmas was a quick breath of home-cooked food, filled with all the guilt of the blank tutorials behind you and that growing feeling of dread as the next term came around with that blackhole of despair between where you're supposed to be and where you actually are. Leaving this time around was very difficult knowing that I don't have that much time left at home.
Having to ask Cheryl if she's dead yet every morning for the first week after touching down while she fought off a nasty cold was also quite stressful . That's why I wasn't too worried and didn't call my mother - she was still able to complain about wanting to die and not being able to breathe. I was also trying to support Weng through a very difficult recruiting season and an increasingly difficult Masters. I think what I'm trying to say is that I'm really tired of having to grow up right now. I want to go home and bum around with my dog, my prawn mee, and my teh peng. I believe the word is "sian".
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