Over time I've grown accustomed to saving up various garbage we like to call 'memory'. Bus passes, movie tickets, old exercise books, old text books etc.etc. It's kind of genetic (which is the recent and popular excuse for many things these days - obese and don't want to exercise, well you must have a fat gene. Psychopathic- well it was just in your gene to be evil. I guess this is a moving away from 'you-have-a-choice' trend we used to have months before)- A middle class inherited trait I think. The thing where you save up every last piece of everything in the hope that someday they will come in use. They never do and usually I end up buying new ones at the time of need anyway (hence why we tend to have around 2/3 dozens of unused Christmas cards, 2/3 dozens of unused pens bought from $2 shops and lots and lots of mouse pads.
I have old birthday cards dated back to 1996 and I don't have the heart to throw them out. I have also kept some things from an ex-lover of two months and don't have the heart (rather the time and the motivation) to throw them out. The contents of my 'memory-drawer' is the ideal place for someone to procrastinate and that's what usually happens during the examinations. Oh well .. maybe it's time to throw some out. The big question I was faced with during the Dhaka-vacation was what to do with ex-lover's stuff we sometimes/usually/often hold onto. I couldn't answer due to lack of substantial experience. I suggested burning- dramatic but effective nevertheless. Why shouldn't we make a ritual (consisting of fire) out of the fact that we've moved on.
The newfound policy should be (for everyone) to not store anything more than a year. So throw out those love letters and poems and cards and the teddy bear!
Thursday, August 30, 2007
Thursday, August 16, 2007
Muse!
No, I'm not here to talk about Matt Bellamy's hotness or how much I love this band or how good they are in everything they do.
This can be thought of as a time pass thing that I do when I skip university.
I've been given and giving a lot of career advise lately and the more I think about it, the more I realise that I have absolutely no quantifiable achievement that I can possibly put down in my resume. I don't have a single High distinction in my transcript, I don't have any awards or the likes .. basically I have nothing except that I'm nice to people, which believe me does not help in any way.
Enough of that ..
'Any goddess that looks over any form of art is a muse' according to dictionary.com and the ancient Greeks. The first time I came across this term was in a book where a horror-writer finds out that her muse is a hideous, ugly and sexually perverted being and wanted a large portion of her earnings .. pretty cool. Christopher Pike had been the 'thing' during my early teens; but it was R.L. Stein who first introduced (safe) sex in a book- or making love as he'd put it. As if a couple of confused teenagers would know what making love actually means.
Recently, I've come to hate all these -isms we keep coming up with. -isms and -holics.
Anyhow, why are the entries so small in size these days?
This can be thought of as a time pass thing that I do when I skip university.
I've been given and giving a lot of career advise lately and the more I think about it, the more I realise that I have absolutely no quantifiable achievement that I can possibly put down in my resume. I don't have a single High distinction in my transcript, I don't have any awards or the likes .. basically I have nothing except that I'm nice to people, which believe me does not help in any way.
Enough of that ..
'Any goddess that looks over any form of art is a muse' according to dictionary.com and the ancient Greeks. The first time I came across this term was in a book where a horror-writer finds out that her muse is a hideous, ugly and sexually perverted being and wanted a large portion of her earnings .. pretty cool. Christopher Pike had been the 'thing' during my early teens; but it was R.L. Stein who first introduced (safe) sex in a book- or making love as he'd put it. As if a couple of confused teenagers would know what making love actually means.
Recently, I've come to hate all these -isms we keep coming up with. -isms and -holics.
Anyhow, why are the entries so small in size these days?
Wednesday, August 15, 2007
.. So hand me the remote!
I wouldn't say that I'm addicted to Facebook. On the contrary, the Facebook-browsing-rate has greatly gone down (and every sentence I write, I have to wonder whether I've got the grammar correct. It's the stupid other half's MBA examination .. give the rest of us a freaking break) because I hardly write on other people's wall hence no one writes back and hence why I don't have to retaliate. It's a vicious cycle.
If nothing else, Facebook is a real eye-opener, one more push and shove to the reality and I hate it. So, well done Facebook, you've done something right.
People everywhere is the same, once you've caught up with them after a while. They all have this snooty impression that they've changed for the better or the worst and these people wear it like a false sense of achievement. ' Oh no, I'm no longer the old John/Dick/Harry/Jane you used to know, now I drink expensive cocktails. Oh no! I must have my martini! ' Anyway, I'm not sure what exactly I'm complaining about this time.
In order for me to get the Government's youth allowance, our (the family) accountant has suggested that I pretend to live elsewhere hence have to pay for the rent and the food and is in dire need of some government assistance (the payout is actually shit .. then again, this is Government welfare payment- the taxpayers money putting into .. 'good' use). I declined the offer. I will not fake my address to every institution I have to give out my address to just so I can get $40 extra a week.
Yet I've written nothing about my adventures in Dhaka. I never ever get around to it. Not this time, not the last time, not even the time I was sitting on an old dude's lap who wanted a cow that gives infinite milk. Speaking of cows .. Family Guy has pretty cute laughs on cow and milk and milking cows .. etc. (what the hell am I talking about?)
Did I mention I have a laptop now? The router isn't working properly and around 1 AM every night (just last night and tonight actually) the main computer shuts itself down automatically and on the screen appears what my sister calls 'The Blue Screen of Death'. It's quite scary.
Oh how I hate this time difference between countries!
If nothing else, Facebook is a real eye-opener, one more push and shove to the reality and I hate it. So, well done Facebook, you've done something right.
People everywhere is the same, once you've caught up with them after a while. They all have this snooty impression that they've changed for the better or the worst and these people wear it like a false sense of achievement. ' Oh no, I'm no longer the old John/Dick/Harry/Jane you used to know, now I drink expensive cocktails. Oh no! I must have my martini! ' Anyway, I'm not sure what exactly I'm complaining about this time.
In order for me to get the Government's youth allowance, our (the family) accountant has suggested that I pretend to live elsewhere hence have to pay for the rent and the food and is in dire need of some government assistance (the payout is actually shit .. then again, this is Government welfare payment- the taxpayers money putting into .. 'good' use). I declined the offer. I will not fake my address to every institution I have to give out my address to just so I can get $40 extra a week.
Yet I've written nothing about my adventures in Dhaka. I never ever get around to it. Not this time, not the last time, not even the time I was sitting on an old dude's lap who wanted a cow that gives infinite milk. Speaking of cows .. Family Guy has pretty cute laughs on cow and milk and milking cows .. etc. (what the hell am I talking about?)
Did I mention I have a laptop now? The router isn't working properly and around 1 AM every night (just last night and tonight actually) the main computer shuts itself down automatically and on the screen appears what my sister calls 'The Blue Screen of Death'. It's quite scary.
Oh how I hate this time difference between countries!
Thursday, August 02, 2007
Happy Birthday (to you)!
Here's a funny thing I noticed- the best friend's birthday and her boyfriend's birthday are on the same month. The sibling's birthday and her boyfriend's birthday are also on the same month. Needless to say that October has it's share of another couple's birthday. Of course this connection doesn't really mean anything. It doesn't imply that these people are fated to be bound together forever nor does it imply that .. well .. I can't think of any other possible implication of blah blah ..
Did I mention I was depressed?
It's the best friend's birthday and for the first time (or maybe the second time) I forgot to wish her at midnight. Once upon a time, we'd compete to see who would call/SMS the closest time to 12 o'clock. Seeing how we're all so .. old .. (21 is a cursed age, so are the ages 16, 18, 20, 25, 27, 30, 40, 60 and 100) there just isn't that magic anymore (there never was any magic for me) to call and surprise (or not surprise) at midnight, professing how glad we are to have each other as friends for so long. I did SMS her this morning though- after an alert/reminder thing during the 9 AM tutorial. I wished her to live until she's 100 to which she replied- 'as long as you (as in I, Shaolee Zaman) are next to me all those 100 years'. I don't get to see her today due to 1) uni-staying until 6 in the evening and 2) she'd be busy.
I need to buy her a present. Once upon a time, I used to give wicked birthday gifts to people, thanks to my impeccable taste in .. present-giving. That was before (and this is now). The lamest (and the most well thought out) birthday celebration (one-on-one celebration mind you) was so great that to this day I have a hard time thinking up some other way to .. and here is where I lose my train of thought!
Depressed because everyone (well .. nearly everyone) is turning twenty-one and soon I'll be twenty-one and .. it sucks because there is nothing 'fun' to look forward to anymore. Only responsible things like graduation (the later the better?), job (which I don't want .. all I want to do is sleep. Everyday it is becoming more and more clear to me that I'm stuck in the wrong degree and there's no turning back. I just want to lie around in exotic places all year round and meet fun-loving people who also lies around in exotic places all year round), possible marriage (requires finding of someone- the right one) and paying off tuition fees (which is NOT 'interested' but reflective of the inflation rate of the period of paying off).
Throw me a keg-party.
My muse works day and night to inspire. If only I were more .. not lazy (where is the thesaurus when you need it).
Did I mention I was depressed?
It's the best friend's birthday and for the first time (or maybe the second time) I forgot to wish her at midnight. Once upon a time, we'd compete to see who would call/SMS the closest time to 12 o'clock. Seeing how we're all so .. old .. (21 is a cursed age, so are the ages 16, 18, 20, 25, 27, 30, 40, 60 and 100) there just isn't that magic anymore (there never was any magic for me) to call and surprise (or not surprise) at midnight, professing how glad we are to have each other as friends for so long. I did SMS her this morning though- after an alert/reminder thing during the 9 AM tutorial. I wished her to live until she's 100 to which she replied- 'as long as you (as in I, Shaolee Zaman) are next to me all those 100 years'. I don't get to see her today due to 1) uni-staying until 6 in the evening and 2) she'd be busy.
I need to buy her a present. Once upon a time, I used to give wicked birthday gifts to people, thanks to my impeccable taste in .. present-giving. That was before (and this is now). The lamest (and the most well thought out) birthday celebration (one-on-one celebration mind you) was so great that to this day I have a hard time thinking up some other way to .. and here is where I lose my train of thought!
Depressed because everyone (well .. nearly everyone) is turning twenty-one and soon I'll be twenty-one and .. it sucks because there is nothing 'fun' to look forward to anymore. Only responsible things like graduation (the later the better?), job (which I don't want .. all I want to do is sleep. Everyday it is becoming more and more clear to me that I'm stuck in the wrong degree and there's no turning back. I just want to lie around in exotic places all year round and meet fun-loving people who also lies around in exotic places all year round), possible marriage (requires finding of someone- the right one) and paying off tuition fees (which is NOT 'interested' but reflective of the inflation rate of the period of paying off).
Throw me a keg-party.
My muse works day and night to inspire. If only I were more .. not lazy (where is the thesaurus when you need it).
Wednesday, August 01, 2007
The Importance of Making Appointments!
[No .. this is NOT the promised extravagant 100th post .. I decided to scrap that since the readership never reaches more than two people]
Approximately four hours is how long I waited at the medical centre to get checked up by a practitioner. Of course, let's not blame the busy doctors (five of them on duty in fact) or the receptionists parked on their behind all day long organizing (!) patients to their rightful doctors- I blame myself. How stupid would I have to be to think that I could ever see a doctor without an appointment (which I usually make anyway- so why not this time?).
Turns out that the boils on my feet contracted from Bangladesh (more specifically from Middle Badda) which resemble genital herpes are viral, hence it's merely an waiting game 'till the boils dry up by themselves.
Four hours and I'm back home with having missed breakfast, a three hour lab (where attendance counts to at least 10% of the course), no treatment and a firm believer (and an 'advocator') of appointments. I did however manage to get a doctor's certificate for the past three days for missed classes which could possibly save me from tiny mark deductions.
I have only one thing to say- I miss Dhaka.
Approximately four hours is how long I waited at the medical centre to get checked up by a practitioner. Of course, let's not blame the busy doctors (five of them on duty in fact) or the receptionists parked on their behind all day long organizing (!) patients to their rightful doctors- I blame myself. How stupid would I have to be to think that I could ever see a doctor without an appointment (which I usually make anyway- so why not this time?).
Turns out that the boils on my feet contracted from Bangladesh (more specifically from Middle Badda) which resemble genital herpes are viral, hence it's merely an waiting game 'till the boils dry up by themselves.
Four hours and I'm back home with having missed breakfast, a three hour lab (where attendance counts to at least 10% of the course), no treatment and a firm believer (and an 'advocator') of appointments. I did however manage to get a doctor's certificate for the past three days for missed classes which could possibly save me from tiny mark deductions.
I have only one thing to say- I miss Dhaka.
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