So Many Changes, So Little Time...!

I'm going nuts here.

My hair's changed, drastically.

So have my eyes (albeit VERY temporarily, or so I hope).

My bank account was more filled than it had been in many months, only to be emptied within the range of a few days to its normal... aerated... state.

My cozy, tiny little room over at my aunt's, which actually happen to be her son's, is now filled with stuff that are haphazardly packed and (sorta) ready to go. But that's only half of all that I intend to bring x.x

I'm excited. Because of that, I'm scared crapless. Nothing good ever came out of being too excited about something, in my case- except for vacations in RT.

Arghh! I'm confused!

I've also been playing Tradewinds Legends and finished the game thrice already in less than a week; then I started replaying Talismania Deluxe. One of my loves, Maxtor HDD, has been nestling in his little place in the antique laptop bag for quite a while now. All because someone keeps delaying the delivery of my items back to me, and that includes that useful multi-plug multi-socket extension thingymajig. Grrr...

I shall remember not to prioritize my (future) boyfriend over my other obligations and duties >.>

My littlest brother, the littlest of them all, turned 8 3 days ago! So a happy belated to him! (I wasn't able to do a specific post in his honor on the day itself since I've been busy as feck)!

And I smell like a saloon. Fortunately it's a nice smell to me, and is not causing any more allergic reactions.

Seems like everyone's feeling confused and terribly out-of-order this past week... Hopefully the next week will turn out better for the most of us.

Supplements... Zzzz... Second day of tidal waves...

Where's the Nearest Trattoria?

FETTUCINE!

So the past few days since I retrieved my most useful, multi-socketed-multi-plug extension cord from my other aunt's house saw me going through a lot of DORAMA. It's turned me back into the Nightstalker that I was. Not that waking up early is an option here, even when I decide to turn in early. It's like a curse; I don't feel comfortable venturing out of my room, especially to get food. Even though they don't really mind that I'm contributing a lot to minimize wastage of food on their behalf. Sadly, being naturally inclined to have a variety of food in vast quantities, I found their stocks too dismal for my liking, despite the awesome hospitality (and ACed room, a Godsend in this hot and sweaty climate).

But back to the dorama.

I started watching Kurosagi. Got distracted at second or third episode. Watched Bambino yesterday night and finished the whole series early today, the proceedings of which accounted for my bedtime of 6 00 in the morning. I then got up to fulfil my duties, went back to bed and was woken up by my Grandmother on the phone about fifteen minutes shy of ten o'clock. Apparently my adorable baby cousin needed some remedies from the village people to cure his 'ailment', and she was adamant that it was a total emergency and that she needed to return with him and Grandfather before noon to get him there in time.

Oh really? I never knew babies with fever and a sore throat required special healing practices at the countryside to cure them... What ever happened to good ol' 'Plenty of rest, liquids and take your medications precisely as indicated?'

I snored her away; unfortunately not before she got a few words in on that.

DOLCE!

An hour or so later I got a call from a good friend who was terribly helpful in getting all sorts of written documents for me from my *past* university. I woke up a bit more whilst talking to her. As soon as she hung up to return to her class, my consciousness evaded me and I sunk back into Dreamland.

The shrill ringtone on my primitive cell jolted me awake from fluffy candy clouds to a call from an aunt from Mom's side, and in our conversation concluded that I was saved from renewing my L license from scratch, at least for the next 3 months. But I have an exam next week, which means I can't go back in the near future to get this whole 'driving thing' over with as soon as I
would like it to be.

Ah, phooey.

PESCATORA!

I need to watch more dorama. With an exam coming up, possibly another driving exam following shortly afterwards and then the entry to a new episode of Uni life, right now all I can think about is escaping reality and enjoying other people's elaborate (acted) lives on screen.

What a masochist.

However, watching Bambino had its advantages. I picked up on a few more Japanese words and Italian ones. YUMMY Italian ones.

Ano...

Eto...

... Seen them anywhere?

Good Professor, Bad Professor...?

Image obtained from here

Refreshing as the match I had today with two men was (one decidedly agressive, the other a mild sideki- I mean, colleague- with a genuinely friendly and honest smile), I can't help but ponder upon the origins of the whole 'Good Q, Bad Q (where Q = certain applicable professions)' faced by a person under interrogation/interview.

Even in systems like these, humans have yet to fail themselves in trying to achieve equilibrium. Equilibrium for what actually? I have a couple of guesses:

1. The emotions of the interrogated/interviewee
2. The overall mood of the interrogators/interviewers
3. The balance of good and evil in a justice/education/anything-else-applicable system. Shame it doesn't work in politics with *cough*TheMightyTun*cough* some people.

Knowing that this was inevitable, though, I did my best to show my 'game face' to both, especially the 'Bad Q' since he seemed to demand it in large quantities. I pity the other interviewer; however, he asked me less than 30% of the total questions so I logically owe his colleague more eye-contact with each explanation.

Are the 'Good Qs' merely there to lighten the atmosphere and become some sort of sickly-sweet wallpaper inside a room filled with the terrible aura of the 'Bad Qs'?

So yeah. My Good Q of the day was one of those Exceptionally Good Qs, who seem to have nothing to say against you, never demoralize you and always smile when your eyes see his (seriously, Good Qs are almost always males). He even praised me when I felt like I was gonna slump on the floor with some of my explanations of my past failures. On the other hand, my Bad Q was one of those who goes all-out on his (this, more often than not, can be applied to 'her', but in my case it was the opposite- yay! Female Bad Qs are WAAAAY nasty and I know because I've been one =P) role, with the annoying (sorry but it was!) mock-thinking expressions after your questionable answers/statements, the sarcastic laugh, the taunting questions fired off one after the other like they were emitted from some sort of missile-question-gun, the goatee/beard/moustache stroke of 'questionable objections' (they were darn interesting though, and highly intriguing- one of the reasons I just couldn't keep my eye off his facial expressions). However, I DID say all-out and not Pure Evil- his 'meanness' didn't reach his eyes (thank God) and he turned out to be really cool by showing me to the main highlight of any medical school- the cadaver room!

So after a brief pause, I started firing questions when they gave the obligatory 'Do you have any questions for us?' and one of the ones I pressed upon was regarding the cadaver room and its 'inhabitants', since they're the life (pun intended) of any medical student's pre-clinical years. He gave me permission to sneak in, get a quick peek- there were three other groups of students in there clustered around three cadavers, each with a professor/lecturer rambling away- and was pleasantly surprised to see that the cadavers were very well preserved and in great condition! I received a few smiles from the other *FEMALE* seniors in the room (most of which, I'm pretty sure, were my age or younger- hardee har har) and went out of the room with sparkles in my eyes, a big grin and a bounce in my step, as if I was a child who had just walked out of Disneyland. 'Bad Q' asked me how it was and I relayed to him my thoughts of how nice the cadavers seemed and he went, 'Of course they are, they're DEAD!' in a loudish voice in the interview-waiting-lobby place, and I burst out laughing. The others waiting for their interview whipped their heads around at me, looking puzzled- and slightly mortified (since when have I been a big fan of puns?).

Lawl.

Oh. And they said the main faculties were moving out to a bigger (10x bigger, so it seems) campus later on! He said by the time I get to my faculty of choice after this *cough*gapyear*cough* it'd be done! Kudos to Good Q for answering most of the questions that seemed to tumble out of my mouth while Bad Q ominously tried to ignore me and laughed sarcastically when I didn't stop asking. I bet he was VERY relieved when I finally said 'Thanks for your time~!' in that sickly-sweet voice I always fail to subdue after a satisfying interview. For my part or theirs, it doesn't matter; any interview over and done with are satisfying, at least for a couple of days before you start going 'OMIGAWD I SHOULDA SAID THIS INSTEAD OF THAT!'

Well-preserved cadavers can really make one's day brighter. Heheh.

Mati Ye (Dia) Syndrome

Mati Ye (Ye being the substitue word for dia) Syndrome is defined as the act of constantly giving reasons/excuses for not doing something for the sole purpose of not wanting to do it. It is an inside joke referring to 'heavy boneness'- in essence, it's actually referring to laziness.

Laziness itself has a wide scope. Procrastinating, running away from matters at hand, or even what you initially consider as fear itself, may actually be an indication of laziness simmering underneath your lack of actions. Frankly speaking, I've known only a handful of people who haven't showed the slightest sign of being lazy. Obviously, I'm not one of them, which is why I can write such elaborately convincing topics on the whole matter, and actually inspire such a unique name for something so... drab, so common. Being the inspiration for something inherently makes you think of a role model of said realized inspiration. And in this case, I truly feel like a role model of laziness.

Do I feel lazy?

I most certainly do not. Be it the case of utter stupiditis, denial syndrome or God-knows-wtfery of a fancy name that I have the ability to concoct, I have conviction that I am not lazy. The only logical reason (again with the reasoning and excusing), I would surmise, why one of my most beloved persons is calling me thus is because said person has not seen me in such a long time and is still reminiscing on the old times, i.e my 8-year-old ratty self, and associating that image with my current actions. Said person still remembers my late-noon morning rise-and-shine routines all those years ago, which happens only on specific days and at specific places. What the person doesn't know is the fact that I do almost all my evasive maneuvers to avoid seeing the faces of people I-have-no-idea-in-my-heart-why I can't face, and, if my unusual sleeping habits are accountable for said 'mornings', I do what I thought works in making myself more of a productive member of society. Which, apparently, isn't the case. It takes a girl a while to learn and earn her own lessons.

I DID mention earlier that conviction, more often than not, leads to stubbornness.

So I can probably blame my innate sense of 'stubbornity' for my actions now.

Which leads me back to proving my most unfortunate demise of being a bearer of the infamous Mati Ye Syndrome.

It's funny how I end up thinking I've reasoned some matters and abruptly realize that my 'flawless logic' is on a spherical track, leading me straight back to where I've started. Had I stopped earlier I would've stopped the course and proved myself right, at least for part of the journey. The unquenchable thirst of getting myself to the end, however, hastily pushes me forward to my inevitable ending, one I've foreseen SO many times and yet never seem to grasp. One I delusionally thought I could escape from, but always fail doing so. Another path charted on my perfect little sphere of delusions, whereupon each path, led by my bluntness, never stray from its course- Always going the straight way, plundering through marked paths of aforetimes, to reach its final destination. Its initial destination. The starting point.

I sometimes wonder why it is that my head spins with anticipation, words tumbling out of my consciousness, when I'm arguing something passionately with someone. My vision becomes blurry, ears ringing, orientation somewhat deteriorating. The inability to concentrate, the heave of the stomach... a familiar sense of being spun around too many times on a swivel chair. I now realize that my body is doing what I subconsciously think of my reasoning- it's actually going around in a circle.

My most beloved people are telling me to do a 180. To change my lifestyle. And to do that, I will be forced to change the essence of everything that made my lifestyle what it is-

I have to change me.

Good to Go

Plastic bags filled with an assortment of oddbits litter the room, while in a corner sat a green box filled to the brim with trash, one-third of which is composed of used tissues. On a still-covered bed, a girl's nose runs freely as she tries to stem the flow with more tissues. The plastic bag full of junk food ruffles slightly in front of her and she glances, again, at a bar of chocolate, feeling guilty but gluttonous at the same time. She hesitates momentarily before reaching out and grabbing the white-and-red wrapped ephemeral delight, only to set it down next to her as she occupies herself with her laptop.

Writing about this.

I am 87% packed and ready to go. Looking at the pile of two weeks' worth of unwashed clothes, I began to wonder if the laundry place near my aunt's house would be able to have them ready by tomorrow.

I can't say I'm missing this place already, because truth be told, I don't. I probably miss my friends and the memories we had here, but not the room in itself - although I think I do appreciate the view from the window I've had for the past four months or so of my stay here. I really would miss the relatively clean toilets here as well. I think I would miss the fact that I have a double mattress for staying in a room with only one other room mate for a room made for four people. I would miss the space and privacy.

You know what? I guess I will miss this place after all.

But I would never long for it as much as I long to go home.

I'm writing this solely for the sake of blogging for what would be the last time in this room 'cause I'm just a sap like that. Oh and by the way, I finished watching the whole VK series that I have just obtained from a friend!

I nodded off quite a bit two episodes to the end because I was hella tired but I made it. I stowed away my precious external HDD to easy my last-minute packing process later, but I still have internet, which is always good =)

Can't wait to get back home and spend time with the family!

Sometimes... Feelings Die

I got mad.

I vented, a bit. Compared to many that I know of, I must say I don't vent out my anger that much by blogging. But I did... And I'm not that proud of it.

I'm dealing with the frustration quite well, and that's fair, seeing the amount of comfort *cough*JUNK*cough* food I've been consuming these past few days. There's also the music.

I reflected. Of course, I pondered upon the fact that it would not have happened if it wasn't partly my fault, whatever it was. That got me thinking if I was angry because I blamed the other party entirely. So that made me less mad because if I still stayed mad it would make me much more of a selfish person (Reasoning makes me sound like a 5-year-old; could it be that I'm taking the 'If you understand something you should be able to explain it to a 5-year-old' saying too seriously?)

I cried it out. One is allowed to release one's sadness, right? Just because I cried it out to a sole, close person doesn't make me a bitch. I may have shed tears in front of others but no names were mentioned, no clue at all. Just sorrow which was unfortunate enough to show itself after being crushed by anvil after anvil of life's difficulties. Being the frail, not-that-close-enough-to-God-to-be-patient-with-His-mysterious-ways kind of girl, I broke down. Not that much of a shocker. But I'll have you know I don't spread stories and rumors. If you feel like I have, it's probably the guilt surfacing- and that's totally understandable. Yes I am being slightly bitter, but it's still comprehensible.

And no, anger doesn't really equate to frowns and bitchings, though it may for some. I'm only stating the truth here- when you do something it doesn't mean others believe it's the right thing, even if they seek deep enough in their hearts. When you believe in something that much it's called conviction, and from The Fantasy's weird dialogue at the beginning of the song, conviction can make one impossibly hard-headed. Like I have conviction that God exists, and I can't believe anyone in their right minds would think otherwise; Nothing you say could convince me otherwise. See? Conviction.

I'm a sensitive person- I cry, and I suppose that shouldn't make me a bad person. But I don't have conviction in that, which is- literally- a crying shame.

P/S: I finished reading all the VK manga that's been released so far! Moe-ness!