| Relief |

This probably is the last of the academic-related rants I'll be posting in many months to come.

So yea.

Met my thesis supervisor. Tell her that I'm changing my thesis supervisor. Well aware that I might have to extend another semester and graduate a year later.

She knew it. Pre-informed before I went to tell her straight to her face, tell her from my very mouth.

I personally think that it is a good move, since you will be pressurized unnecessary and I still wouldn't like your work anyway.


She gave me advises on how I'm going to go after this, who should I take. What will be a better choice for me.

We parted in good terms. No bad blood exchanged. No yelling. Good for her, good for me.

Dear lord, I love her. She is back to the lecturer I had deeply respected, and had hated because of what happened in thesis-based relationship.

Thank you. I'll take your advises.

Thank you, from the bottom of my heart for restoring my respect for you.

I'm sorry to have disappointed you, and I'm glad that we parted in good terms.

Tuesday, October 21, 2008

Status Update. Rant. Angry.

10 October 2008 @ 12:02 am

Rant. Bitch. Whine. Not Good for Your Health. WTF.

I bet you live your life only thinking about your achievements and live in a happy-go-lucky world. Which I think is good, because you are only stressed when you are supposed to see me.

Really. My thesis supervisor apparently thinks that being optimistic is a cardinal sin. I'm supposed to stress myself to death and show that I'm stressing it because or else there will be no evident that I did try. I look pretty, fair, radiant - conclusion made? I didn't stress myself over my thesis and I didn't try. Wut? Blame my complexion for my apparent lack in credibility? Judge me because I look nice and cool?

Evaluating me based on how I live the life? Serious shit is getting too personal. How I live my life affected my work - but they aren't the basis for telling me that I shouldn't be optimistic. Imply that I should give up when it's not the greatest work I've ever done. Imply that I should leave the door of your office and get another lecturer to guide a loser like me. Imply that being idealistic is an unwanted virtue. Seriously WTF?

Stop at telling me how my experimental designs have no basis. Stop at telling me that my justification is not explaining stuff. Stop at saying that my analysis isn't clear.

Don't tell me my optimism and persistence to continue are bad and ridicule them. I'm not going to be some asshole who deserted all other group assignments on the basis that they are getting some strict lecturer as their supervisor. I like to make failure my own and rather not drag other people in. I like being optimistic, and no one knew how much it took me to get where I am now. Respected by peers, liked by many and kind of successful?

Don't tell me that I live a fairy tale life and care for nothing. I went through hell and depression in my teenage years. Suffered social stigma and problems. Family troubles. Public jeers. Known as the girl with attitude problems. Now a university representative in debate tournaments. Class representative. Capable bitch.

Tell me optimism didn't play a part.

Tell me that I didn't try, didn't stressed myself, lie to myself, the worst student she's ever taken, good at everything else except understanding fluid dynamics of a hydrocolloid's gelling system (WTF, I dropped Physics in High School) -

The hell.

Look. I slept less than 8 hours cumulatively in three days. I eat once a day and felt nauseous the day after. I didn't sleep for 25 hours. I slaved my head over tons books and scientific journals for days. To come up with a presentation on Powerpoint.

For some things that you told me, dear supervisor, here is what I sincerely think:

I seriously think you need to change supervisor
No, I'll stay and haunt you.

You're my nightmare, you know that?
Thanks, more reason to stay.

I think your research may fail.
That's what you think.

You don't know what you don't know.
Mind telling me? Since you know, I'm a retard case in your book and all.

Maybe you should extend.
You have no rights to. Give me bad grades. No asking me to extend unless I decided to jack the thesis altogether.

You rank among the lowest among my students.

Yes, in being a photocopy machine, I'm glad I do rank the lowest.

Now, think about this. I helped every lecturer with everything for years. So, why the hell am I the only one with serious troubles?

***
Ok, that felt good. Excuse me while I get some sleep and slave over the corrections. Among other stuffs.

__________________________________________________________________

21 October 2008 @ 12:38 am

Anger Management. I need it.

Had some sort of emotional breakdown last week, and the rest was a rollercoaster ride for the finishing. Got a dress for the annual dinner, a new pair of shoes and look pretty in them.

Decided that enough was enough, and now changing my thesis supervisor. Didn't want to listen to people calling me their "nightmare" when all I did was to do my work. I need to graduate. I need a thesis for that. I hand in sucky work, and she had to evaluate me. Like uhm, do your job because you are being paid to guide me? I didn't want to spend 25 hours not sleeping to complete a task which will be returned back to me, with me needing to redo from the start till the end. Didn't want to throw up after eating just because I had conveniently forgotten a meal or two. Didn't want to suffer emotional torture and verbal abuse.

One risk - high change of extending. My eternal gratitude to you, dearest unneccesary bureocracy.

Now, now. My parents, bless their illiteracy, chose the wrong time to get misunderstood.

What happened to you? Were you fooling around? Did you fail anything? Do you know how embarassing would that be?


No, papa and mommy. I am simply being a super loser. I can't bear to have anyone call me their nightmares, and at the expense of my timely graduation, I am now changing my thesis supervisor.

Argued with my sisters.

Sis, please give proofs that you aren't failing, or else daddy and mommy don't understand.

No. I did not fail anything. Period.

My only failure is to have chosen her as my thesis supervisor. Did not fail anything. I'm a good girl. I sit in my room, read, study and work. Goodness me, I'm a workaholic. I didn't fool around.

Mother called me back. Little sister cleared things up.

Please sleep early. Remember to eat. We will support you. Do whatever you want.

I love you momma, I love you papa, but my life sucks now. I hadn't meant to be angry, but until now, hours after you called me, my heart's still beating fast with contempt for nothing. Now you know why I need a way out. I am still angry, for no reasons. Heart thumping with discontent. Not good for person who is supposed to be an adult.

I need to relax. I need sleep.

I have an quiz in 7 hours.

Life. This is how you are being spelled right now.

Monday, October 20, 2008

Where patriotism is concerned, I’m yet to have any….

So the two weeks of campaigning (which includes advertisements of candidates via banners, posters, street speeches, and so on), and thus the Malaysian general elections is over. The nation was swept by a wind of change since the majority party lost in a way which qualifies as the greatest loss ever, but that’s probably besides the point.

Both my parents voted for the opposition party which won, and I didn’t vote. Ok, so I am actually legitimately qualified as a voter, older by a year and a few months (I’m 22, if there is anyone reading this who is not aware on how old I am), but yes, I’m being unpatriotic this time, refusing both my responsibility and rights as a faithful citizen just be casting my choice who the representative of the people in the ballot box. I’m pretty confident that I’m not the only ignorant (or any objectives others may choose to describe the legitimate non-voters) ones in the country, by which I agree that many in my age range have yet to understand the significance of voting and the change which may be executed. It’s my fault to have missed the registration to be qualified as a voter, and it is also my choice to not vote even if I registered. Which simply indicates that I will not vote, registered or not.

However, is the choice of voting or not a reflection of the level of political awareness, or lack thereof? I would think that presumably, this is how the 90% of the youth here is being accurately described. It’s not a sad case, however, it just meant that they are more interested in worldly things which youths indulge rather than the notion of changing anything. Early 20s is an age range where most made a slow transition from a teenager to an adult; whereby old habits die hard. As such, in a peaceful country like mine (devoid of political unrests, civil wars, constant parliament reshuffling, riots and so on – at least not yet), politics may very well lie in the least prioritized for the youth. The elderly ones (in Asian countries especially) often remarked on how ignorant the youth could be, however, the other way may not necessarily meant instant receptions from them.

The notion of humility and respect for the elders play a part here. When the young ones are not showing any concern for things like politics, they are shunned and dismissed as oblivious; and when they are, they are deemed rebellious. Eastern values are not easily receptive of the outspokenness of the youth, and thus, we just have to shrug and let it slide. “What do you young ones know anyway” were the most heard remarks, and I cannot help but sigh at that.

At the end of the day, watching the dramas of elections all around the world, and you just cannot help comparing them. Having possibly more knowledge on the much-hyped Obama-Clinton saga (which I think Obama may emerge victorious) than the national candidates in the election, I shudder to foresee the unruliness of the campaign should the campaign period be prolonged. I loved the fact that there are those in other countries are given greater privilege in terms of the duration in which the candidates are tested (to see their perseverance and determination, and possibly their endurance), not that I’m kissing the American asses, but surely Malaysia could do more than two weeks of campaign. Not immediate, but gradually? Extending by two weeks as each election is held until an optimum duration is achieved?

Ah, well. How could you blame the youth for being ignorant when the duration is simply too short for anything to be done? Two weeks? Why should we be aware of anything when there is no apparent effort in the candidates to prove themselves rather than hide and be protected by the parties’ names and reputations? Instead of choosing to go for the lengths to which the personal integrity of the candidates could be proven, it’s all about the recognition of the symbol they bear next to their names in the poster and banners. Collective cooperation? Perhaps the term “playing safe” is a more accurate description.

Times like this, coupled with the parliamentary monstrosities that we the loyal newspaper readers have our faces been shoved with, had me thinking about a possible addition to what I will do in the future – take part in politics, and see if I could do anything to induce changes. Elections are over, yes, they do; but it is making my inner power-hungry demon roaring like never before. Probably because it never roared for the sake of my country.

*roar*

Perhaps I just would love the notoriety that awaits me when a revolution starts, and how it feels like to be in that spectrum of fame.

Tuesday, March 11, 2008

The first post and nothing serious.

Huh, this time, i'll get serious. Ironically.

When there is a way of self-expression, why not try Blogspot? Because i'm in the mood that's why. Trust that when there is a will, there should be a way.

There is me recently been obsessed with Irish music recently, and i'm especially awed by this one - Cry of the Celts by Lord of the Dance.

Being an obsessive music addict, my search led me to a torrent file which allowed me a full access to the songs from this musical production called Lord of the Dance, led, founded, choreographed by Michael Flatley. If you do not fancy guys in tight shirts and tight pants, perhaps Micheal Flatley is not what you can see the person doing the best in your fashion directory. But the tap-dancing, choreography and synchronization - wonderfully awesome. Recent interest cultivated by the recent download of "The best of Melodic Celtic music" - and yea; imagine my ecstacy.

Then again - i need more researching for deeper and more obsessive understanding on what Irish and Celtic music differs in.

Disclaimer: Downloading is illegal.

Saturday, February 16, 2008