This post is dedicated to everyone who can't accept failures who's fretting about being dethroned from your 3.9 GPA - so what? It's not the end of the world. So what if your GPA this time is lower than what you expected? In fact, you were fine with your lower-than-3.9 GPA previously so why must going back to the status quo be such a huge earth-shattering devastation?
I remember being very shocked and sad at the fact that my GPA dropped so much from my near-perfection GPA of 3.91. But for the coming semesters, I performed better and I used my fall as a yardstick to gauge how much I've improved since then. And it made me feel so much better because I learnt that life isn't gonna be a smooth string of 3.9s. Well, as long as I'm still doing relatively well for my studies, the numbers don't matter. A 3.67 GPA can still guarantee all A's, albeit them being A-'s. THEY'RE STILL A'S. MY GPA fell so much and I didn't die (although I wanted to when I first got my results) so this too, shall pass. Your good semesters will pass, and so will your bad semesters.
All that matters is that you've done your best. That's what I keep telling myself - I've done my best.
Sunday, June 21, 2015
Saturday, June 13, 2015
The Sixth Month
I received a message from my sister late last night informing me of the death of my cousin's grandaunt. If you have been keeping up with my blog, in my other entry titled "The Fifth Month", I mentioned about the death of both my cousin's grandparents. I am not close to this grandaunt at all but I do see her sometimes when I go over to my aunt's place - a little backstory: this grandaunt is my cousin's grandma's sister, and she was unmarried so she lived with my cousin's grandparents. So, there were the grandparents, the parents, and one grandaunt living under the same roof.
The grandmother died after the second wave of stroke that hit her, and the grandfather was a clumsy old man with one fake eye. He fell, causing his death. Both their deaths were tragic - in the sense that they did not die the ideal way - peacefully in their sleep. And this grandaunt suffered the same fate too.
Apparently, last night, she complained of phlegm in her throat so my aunt drove her to the clinic. On the way there in the car, she asked for a tissue and when my aunt pulled a tissue and turned around to give it to her, she was gone. How is her death so sudden? I don't really know the circumstances surrounding it but it is really shocking that one moment she is asking for a tissue and literally another moment later she is slumped lifeless in the back seat.
I am still in shock over this whole incident - because she seemed like a relatively healthy person in her late 60s/ early 70s with the usual problems that old people usually suffer from. I don't understand.
Just like how I know of this lady back in GA who was touring around Europe last week when suddenly her boyfriend, who has been complaining of severe headaches, was diagnosed with brain tumour. The surgery to remove the tumour went well, however he was in life support about 4 days before passing away. This whole incident happened so quickly, in the span of one week. Would he still be alive had he ignored the crippling pain and not gone to the doctor for the operation? His girlfriend did not make it back in time from Europe for the final goodbye. She arrived 5 hours after he passed.
The death of people has always disturbed me. It is inevitable, and if I have known you even for a short while, your absence leaves a void in my heart. I hate the idea that things are not going to be the same again. I hate the fact that every time I go over to my aunt's place, she will no longer be sitting in the living room watching Hong Kong dramas. I wonder how many unfinished TV series endings that you are dying to know.
Rest in peace.
The grandmother died after the second wave of stroke that hit her, and the grandfather was a clumsy old man with one fake eye. He fell, causing his death. Both their deaths were tragic - in the sense that they did not die the ideal way - peacefully in their sleep. And this grandaunt suffered the same fate too.
Apparently, last night, she complained of phlegm in her throat so my aunt drove her to the clinic. On the way there in the car, she asked for a tissue and when my aunt pulled a tissue and turned around to give it to her, she was gone. How is her death so sudden? I don't really know the circumstances surrounding it but it is really shocking that one moment she is asking for a tissue and literally another moment later she is slumped lifeless in the back seat.
I am still in shock over this whole incident - because she seemed like a relatively healthy person in her late 60s/ early 70s with the usual problems that old people usually suffer from. I don't understand.
Just like how I know of this lady back in GA who was touring around Europe last week when suddenly her boyfriend, who has been complaining of severe headaches, was diagnosed with brain tumour. The surgery to remove the tumour went well, however he was in life support about 4 days before passing away. This whole incident happened so quickly, in the span of one week. Would he still be alive had he ignored the crippling pain and not gone to the doctor for the operation? His girlfriend did not make it back in time from Europe for the final goodbye. She arrived 5 hours after he passed.
The death of people has always disturbed me. It is inevitable, and if I have known you even for a short while, your absence leaves a void in my heart. I hate the idea that things are not going to be the same again. I hate the fact that every time I go over to my aunt's place, she will no longer be sitting in the living room watching Hong Kong dramas. I wonder how many unfinished TV series endings that you are dying to know.
Rest in peace.
Tuesday, June 9, 2015
Fighting The Tiger Tonight
This semester I had the luck of taking French as an elective. I have always wanted to learn a foreign language so that I can go to that particular country and charm myself a cute boy so that we can have cute babies together, so it only makes sense for me to put myself under this torture for 14 week for my future husband. Anyway, speaking of foreign languages, my first priority was Spanish. Unfortunately, they only had my second choice so I went with it. My title was actually inspired by a Stephen Chow movie whose name I forgot that had a scene in it where he battled a Frenchman in poker and named the battle as "kam man ta lou fu (fighting the tiger tonight)" - which is a pin yin for "comment allez vous" which literally translated to "how are you" in English. The more you know.
My first French lesson ended in instant regret because I never knew it was so difficult to make weird nasally sounds, because I speak one of the weird nasally languages since I was born, which is Cantonese. I was born to make these weird nasally sounds. But why couldn't I when the language is the language of love? WHY CAN'T I ROLL MY R'S LIKE THE FRENCH PEOPLE AFTER ALL IT JUST SOUNDS LIKE I'M COUGHING UP PHLEGM WHY IS THAT SO HARD.
I had the pleasure of having a Frenchman from France as my professeur and it was great. The first few classes were so hilarious because French sounded so alien to me! I was doing a really good job at behaving myself in class until I encountered the word "pantalon". PANTALON. PANTALON!!!! I really lost my shit at this word because
1. It is pronounced as pang-ta-long.
2. It sounds like a bad word. I don't know in which language but it does.
3. I don't know a funnier word than this word. PANTALON. I repeat - PANTALON.
4. It doesn't matter what that word means because when I put it in this context it makes sense - YOU ARE A PANTALON!!!!
No one found it funny except for me and my professeur glared at me because I was laughing to myself in class.
My first French lesson ended in instant regret because I never knew it was so difficult to make weird nasally sounds, because I speak one of the weird nasally languages since I was born, which is Cantonese. I was born to make these weird nasally sounds. But why couldn't I when the language is the language of love? WHY CAN'T I ROLL MY R'S LIKE THE FRENCH PEOPLE AFTER ALL IT JUST SOUNDS LIKE I'M COUGHING UP PHLEGM WHY IS THAT SO HARD.
I had the pleasure of having a Frenchman from France as my professeur and it was great. The first few classes were so hilarious because French sounded so alien to me! I was doing a really good job at behaving myself in class until I encountered the word "pantalon". PANTALON. PANTALON!!!! I really lost my shit at this word because
1. It is pronounced as pang-ta-long.
2. It sounds like a bad word. I don't know in which language but it does.
3. I don't know a funnier word than this word. PANTALON. I repeat - PANTALON.
4. It doesn't matter what that word means because when I put it in this context it makes sense - YOU ARE A PANTALON!!!!
No one found it funny except for me and my professeur glared at me because I was laughing to myself in class.
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