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".

The circus has come to town

Everytime I see any kind of leader in the media concerning Malaysia, I click on the link or turn to the page with a reluctant yet morbid curiosity to see what other forms of idiocy we have been put on the map for.

"Putting the malaise into Malaysia" in last Thursday's issue of the Economist has done us no favors. Forget about choosing our first teh-tariking astronaut via a popularity competition, after reading this article not only are we still living in treehouses but we're going at each other with our kerises as well.

Isn't it great

Picadilly Circus at 7.30 in the morning is God photoshopping out all of the crowds that jostle for space and laying a thick blanket over the steady stream of traffic flows weaves through the warren of streets leading away.

Picadilly Circus at 7.30 in the morning tastes like the whipped cream on top of a peppermint mocha bought on a whim and implied need from one of the strategically placed Starbucks that litter the area.

Picadilly Circust at 7.30 in the morning might just about bump Hyde Park in spring time from the top of the list of my most favorite places in London, nevermind that it was also the site of a complete massacre of self esteem brought on by one question booklet, a twisty pencil, and some bits of paper.