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.
Tuesday, April 28, 2015
UGGGHHHHHH
So I live with 4 male housemates and 3 other female housemates. I get along well with everyone except two of the dick owners out of the four. This is because they own only one thing - a dick. Not even a brain. Not even a PEA-SIZED brain. If I could crack open their skulls, it would be empty. My anger is completely justified, though.
One of this dude, let's call him Chew because that's actually his real name, is a fucking brainless misogynistic pig. His ideal woman is a subservient slave that does nothing but cook, clean, and give sex. However, what's funny is that his girlfriend is an irony. His girlfriend controls his every movement so he can't get tagged with us housemates on FB or she will lose her shit and personally fly here to kick him in his balls.
This second idiot, let's call him Vincent cause that's what he calls himself, is also of the same species as Chew. I swear these two pigs were put on earth in the form of humans to test my patience. Anyway, this Vincent is a grade A asshole. He's not an asshole to me, but to another girl that can't keep her mouth shut. So in a way it's kinda justified but his assholery trumps over her blabbery and again let me reiterate myself he's a fucking idiot so he is still at fault here.
The other day during dinner we came to the subject of girlfriends/boyfriends. So someone said something along the lines of "paying for meals with your bf/gf" and without missing a beat Vincent jumped on the topic full-force and stated "I will never pay for my girlfriend's food using my parents' hard earned money!!!"
Okay calm your tits.
Firstly, you are clearly not fit to get into a relationship. How is it that you have had 3 girlfriends in the past is beyond me. Why would any girl even find you remotely attractive at half the shit you say? And not to mention your selfishness. I can pay for both our meals because I work and save.
Secondly, you're a fucking idiot.
And so this Chew asked me to say something nice about potty mouth girl to Vincent to change his mind that she is actually suitable for him (um wtf?) and the first thing that popped out of his mouth is telling me to say that potty mouth is a good cook. This really pisses me off because this fucking idiot obviously see women as nothing more than a stay at home cooking machine. I will never forget that one time he told me I should cook dinner for everyone just because I'm a woman and I should be doing the cooking.
Justice porn - I obviously gave a huge piece of my mind to this fucktard Chew (I literally chew-ed him out) and as usual, his only comeback is "chill la joking only". Motherfucker, degrading women is not something you joke at!!!! Crawl back into your mother's womb and STAY THERE!
FUCK I swear people here sre so fucking stupid and ignorant sometimes.
One of this dude, let's call him Chew because that's actually his real name, is a fucking brainless misogynistic pig. His ideal woman is a subservient slave that does nothing but cook, clean, and give sex. However, what's funny is that his girlfriend is an irony. His girlfriend controls his every movement so he can't get tagged with us housemates on FB or she will lose her shit and personally fly here to kick him in his balls.
This second idiot, let's call him Vincent cause that's what he calls himself, is also of the same species as Chew. I swear these two pigs were put on earth in the form of humans to test my patience. Anyway, this Vincent is a grade A asshole. He's not an asshole to me, but to another girl that can't keep her mouth shut. So in a way it's kinda justified but his assholery trumps over her blabbery and again let me reiterate myself he's a fucking idiot so he is still at fault here.
The other day during dinner we came to the subject of girlfriends/boyfriends. So someone said something along the lines of "paying for meals with your bf/gf" and without missing a beat Vincent jumped on the topic full-force and stated "I will never pay for my girlfriend's food using my parents' hard earned money!!!"
Okay calm your tits.
Firstly, you are clearly not fit to get into a relationship. How is it that you have had 3 girlfriends in the past is beyond me. Why would any girl even find you remotely attractive at half the shit you say? And not to mention your selfishness. I can pay for both our meals because I work and save.
Secondly, you're a fucking idiot.
And so this Chew asked me to say something nice about potty mouth girl to Vincent to change his mind that she is actually suitable for him (um wtf?) and the first thing that popped out of his mouth is telling me to say that potty mouth is a good cook. This really pisses me off because this fucking idiot obviously see women as nothing more than a stay at home cooking machine. I will never forget that one time he told me I should cook dinner for everyone just because I'm a woman and I should be doing the cooking.
Justice porn - I obviously gave a huge piece of my mind to this fucktard Chew (I literally chew-ed him out) and as usual, his only comeback is "chill la joking only". Motherfucker, degrading women is not something you joke at!!!! Crawl back into your mother's womb and STAY THERE!
FUCK I swear people here sre so fucking stupid and ignorant sometimes.
Tuesday, March 17, 2015
Glossophobia
Dear kids,
Today you will learn a new term. A term that relates to almost 75% of Americans. And we're not talking about the common Americans. We're talking about Americans who would choose death over speaking in public. In ancient Greece,
glosso = tongue
phobia = fear
therefore it literally translates to "fear of the tongue". Also more commonly known as "fear of public speaking". And today I was part of the 75%. A little background: I am taking Public Speaking this semester and it was not by choice but by force because every single person from my course needs to take it to graduate. So, we are taught by this pro-government lecturer who apparently has appeared LIVE on TV over a million times (his words not mine) (ok maybe not a million but close enough) who has no fear and is part of the 25%. So, the first few classes went good because its predictable and whatnot. However, the first thing he said when he walked into class this morning was about how he would pick 5 students at random to assess and this accounts for 10 marks. Ok, I thought to myself, 5 people out of 104 isn't so bad. I cant be that lucky. Heh. That's like a 4.8% chance to get picked. Such slim chance. Nah it won't be me.
The first person who got called was a girl and she got up, liked it or not she was going first or risk losing her 10 marks. She was definitely caught unprepared and was very very very nervous and she didn't know what to say so she apologised and went off.
The second person was another girl who seemed to have accepted her fate so she fared fairly better. At least she had a momentum and could still crap off on top of her head what she remembered about the lecture earlier (we were supposed to talk about what we've learnt).
And then he called out number "one one". It's eleven. The 11th number on the name list is........ MY fucking name. Well now I know where I rank alphabetically.
Holy fuck. I was caught unprepared because what the fuck I wasn't expecting that. I had no time to memorise anything and if you know me I have literally no memory so like it or not I walked up to the front. All the while my thought process was "fuck this fuck that fuckity fuck why me god". I was knee deep in my lecturer's shit. And so with trembling hands I grabbed the microphone and started talking.
Okay let me begin my speech today by telling you a story. When I was 8 years old, I had to go on stage to present a little essay my English teacher wrote me. I had the weekend to memorize it before I had to go up on stage during the assembly on Monday. But when it was my turn, I froze. I couldn't remember much because I was so nervous and the only thing I remembered about the essay was how a man was selling ice-cream by the street. I was so scared so I just mumbled something and then I was silent for a long time until my teacher told me to get off the stage. I was very embarrassed. And that is the story of how I had stage fright for the first time.
Or something along the line. I couldn't remember. My story was relevant to my speech. However, throughout my whole speech, I was still very visibly nervous. I did not manage to apply a single effective public speaking technique he's been telling me the past week. Towards the end I bullshitted something along the line of "fake it until you make it" and that's really ironic because no matter how much I was faking it, I still didn't make it.
And do you wanna know something even more ironic?
All of us did the same speech of "How To Overcome Stage Fright".
Bet you didn't expect that plot twist, did you?
Well right after my speech something unexpected happened. He said I had a very strong starting, and that the way I started my story was well done, and it was a good example. I was shocked. WHY DID I GET PRAISED??? I didn't know that the torment my primary English teacher put me through at 8 was finally worth it. Heck I didn't even know that my most embarrassing two hours on stage when I was a mini me would pay off. So, thank you, mean bitch, for thoroughly embarrassing me when I was so young. You knew I couldn't do it, that's why you picked on me. And that's not the worst part. The worst part was that even my sister laughed at me when we got home and told everyone. But you don't need to know that.
Overall it was a good but horrifying experience. I can finally check off "impromptu public speaking" off my bucket list (not that it was even on my list anyway), and I belong in the 25% now. Today I truly found out I have the talent of bullshitting on-the-spot. I'd better spend more time honing this new found skill, in case it would come in handy someday.
Today you will learn a new term. A term that relates to almost 75% of Americans. And we're not talking about the common Americans. We're talking about Americans who would choose death over speaking in public. In ancient Greece,
glosso = tongue
phobia = fear
therefore it literally translates to "fear of the tongue". Also more commonly known as "fear of public speaking". And today I was part of the 75%. A little background: I am taking Public Speaking this semester and it was not by choice but by force because every single person from my course needs to take it to graduate. So, we are taught by this pro-government lecturer who apparently has appeared LIVE on TV over a million times (his words not mine) (ok maybe not a million but close enough) who has no fear and is part of the 25%. So, the first few classes went good because its predictable and whatnot. However, the first thing he said when he walked into class this morning was about how he would pick 5 students at random to assess and this accounts for 10 marks. Ok, I thought to myself, 5 people out of 104 isn't so bad. I cant be that lucky. Heh. That's like a 4.8% chance to get picked. Such slim chance. Nah it won't be me.
The first person who got called was a girl and she got up, liked it or not she was going first or risk losing her 10 marks. She was definitely caught unprepared and was very very very nervous and she didn't know what to say so she apologised and went off.
The second person was another girl who seemed to have accepted her fate so she fared fairly better. At least she had a momentum and could still crap off on top of her head what she remembered about the lecture earlier (we were supposed to talk about what we've learnt).
And then he called out number "one one". It's eleven. The 11th number on the name list is........ MY fucking name. Well now I know where I rank alphabetically.
Holy fuck. I was caught unprepared because what the fuck I wasn't expecting that. I had no time to memorise anything and if you know me I have literally no memory so like it or not I walked up to the front. All the while my thought process was "fuck this fuck that fuckity fuck why me god". I was knee deep in my lecturer's shit. And so with trembling hands I grabbed the microphone and started talking.
Okay let me begin my speech today by telling you a story. When I was 8 years old, I had to go on stage to present a little essay my English teacher wrote me. I had the weekend to memorize it before I had to go up on stage during the assembly on Monday. But when it was my turn, I froze. I couldn't remember much because I was so nervous and the only thing I remembered about the essay was how a man was selling ice-cream by the street. I was so scared so I just mumbled something and then I was silent for a long time until my teacher told me to get off the stage. I was very embarrassed. And that is the story of how I had stage fright for the first time.
Or something along the line. I couldn't remember. My story was relevant to my speech. However, throughout my whole speech, I was still very visibly nervous. I did not manage to apply a single effective public speaking technique he's been telling me the past week. Towards the end I bullshitted something along the line of "fake it until you make it" and that's really ironic because no matter how much I was faking it, I still didn't make it.
And do you wanna know something even more ironic?
All of us did the same speech of "How To Overcome Stage Fright".
Bet you didn't expect that plot twist, did you?
Well right after my speech something unexpected happened. He said I had a very strong starting, and that the way I started my story was well done, and it was a good example. I was shocked. WHY DID I GET PRAISED??? I didn't know that the torment my primary English teacher put me through at 8 was finally worth it. Heck I didn't even know that my most embarrassing two hours on stage when I was a mini me would pay off. So, thank you, mean bitch, for thoroughly embarrassing me when I was so young. You knew I couldn't do it, that's why you picked on me. And that's not the worst part. The worst part was that even my sister laughed at me when we got home and told everyone. But you don't need to know that.
Overall it was a good but horrifying experience. I can finally check off "impromptu public speaking" off my bucket list (not that it was even on my list anyway), and I belong in the 25% now. Today I truly found out I have the talent of bullshitting on-the-spot. I'd better spend more time honing this new found skill, in case it would come in handy someday.
Friday, March 13, 2015
Immature Old Bitch
I just realised that this uni education system has me chasing after good grades. I am not such a person. Well not since I was 9 when my studies took a huge dip and I transferred from the first class to the second class and subsequently struggled to pick up the grades I once had. Anyway, since uni is relatively easy for me, I find it difficult not to get obsessed with scoring perfect GPA. And this has, in turn, transformed me into an ass kisser. If you know me you will know that there is no way in hell I would kiss anyone's ass.
Okay story time. The communications studies department in my uni is renowned for insane lecturers. Even the usage of the word "insane" is an understatement because if you are actually subjected under any of them's teaching you would know that there's more to them than just projected mental illness. However, this particular religion fanatic lecturer takes the cake. There are rumors (well more like truths) going around the faculty that she uses tears as threat. She will literally cry if you do not obey her instructions. What the fuck woman? Are you even a fucking LECTURER because that shit is unprofessional as fuck. Anddd since she is a communications lecturer I have to put up with her for FOUR consecutive semesters. Thats TWO whole years right there out of my THREE years. FUCK. But what she did that really got to me was how we are all required to buy her RM95 book. But there's a catch. Because she's fucking insane, remember? No good ever comes from a crazy bitch.The first catch is that she only ordered 80 books for the 120 students in our class. The second catch - EVERYONE is required to have the book. Third catch - OR ELSE all you bookless people sit in a corner while she teaches those with books. Fourth catch - NO PHOTOCOPIES.
Well, she is on a whole new level of crazy. FUCKING CATSHIT CRAZY BITCH OF A WOMAN. And this is just one little part of her personality you're seeing, its not even the full picture yet. This is why I kiss her ass whenever possible. Because you absolutely cannot reason with crazy people.
May the good lord have mercy on my soul.
Okay story time. The communications studies department in my uni is renowned for insane lecturers. Even the usage of the word "insane" is an understatement because if you are actually subjected under any of them's teaching you would know that there's more to them than just projected mental illness. However, this particular religion fanatic lecturer takes the cake. There are rumors (well more like truths) going around the faculty that she uses tears as threat. She will literally cry if you do not obey her instructions. What the fuck woman? Are you even a fucking LECTURER because that shit is unprofessional as fuck. Anddd since she is a communications lecturer I have to put up with her for FOUR consecutive semesters. Thats TWO whole years right there out of my THREE years. FUCK. But what she did that really got to me was how we are all required to buy her RM95 book. But there's a catch. Because she's fucking insane, remember? No good ever comes from a crazy bitch.The first catch is that she only ordered 80 books for the 120 students in our class. The second catch - EVERYONE is required to have the book. Third catch - OR ELSE all you bookless people sit in a corner while she teaches those with books. Fourth catch - NO PHOTOCOPIES.
Well, she is on a whole new level of crazy. FUCKING CATSHIT CRAZY BITCH OF A WOMAN. And this is just one little part of her personality you're seeing, its not even the full picture yet. This is why I kiss her ass whenever possible. Because you absolutely cannot reason with crazy people.
May the good lord have mercy on my soul.
Sunday, January 25, 2015
I Don't Know About You, But I'm Not Feeling 22
Oh. Oh no. I'm 22 today. I cannot believe it. Where did the time go? I don't want to grow old. Seems like I was just 21 yesterday.
Well I was literally 21 yesterday anyway hahahh. And I also did literally nothing at home. I didn't get crazy drunk in a club, nor did I go smoking weed / vape / whatever all these young people are smoking like wtf am I even a young person ??? I fear the day I reach 25 and the quarter life crisis hits me, but one thing for sure I hope I make it back to the States to celebrate my birthday there. Honestly, I am jealous of my other friends who are out there in the world experiencing life. I want to do that too... while I'm still young and full of enthusiasm. With every passing day in uni I get more and more life sucked out of me oh god. Thinking about going back to uni and seeing my classmates make me wanna die.
On the bright side: I probably could make it back to the States before I'm 25. Yeh that's a good thought.
I also have great friends and family members, I am so thankful for all the supportive people around me. They're the real mvps in keeping me sane.
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