Friends

I once read a quote somewhere that says good friends are people with whom you can sit together for hours without saying a word, and then leave feeling like you’ve had the best conversation.

That sort of friendship nirvana is something I’ve yet to attain, but the closest I can imagine would be like today. Spend a day with friends, one of whom I’ve not seen for months yet feeling like we’ve just met up yesterday. Talk about everything under the sun – work, life, current affairs, random anecdotes and crazy plans. Then leave not remembering the content of the conversations, bringing back merely a sense of satisfaction for a day well spent.

Watching Sex and the City could have triggered all these warm fuzzy feelings of friendship too.

Underneath all the elaborate designer dresses, 4-inch heels, bimbotic comments and bitchy complaints is a friendship that entails standing up for each other (even if it means throwing a cliched line at the lousy boyfriend), going all out of the way on a cold winter night just so that a friend doesn’t spend New Year’s eve alone and telling a friend straight out in the face how badly she has screwed up.

Life’s been good to me

In the midst of all the frustrations of working with some cranky people this summer term, I’ve made some good friends.

Kind and real people -

Care enough to worry about deadlines and exams, then crazy enough to instigate a spontaneous shopping session.

Righteous enough to stand up for others, yet honest enough to talk behind the backs of people who talk behind the backs of people.

Gay Happy enough to shower others with random hugs and kisses, powered by bursts of energy generated from stress.

Silly enough to be more nervous about my job interview than myself, and then more excited about me getting the job than myself. (The innocent offer of a jacket in an untimely rain – touched.)

Such angels with an earthly twist, what more could I ask for?

Boringness

I must be such a boring person.

My happiness is directly proportional to me getting a job, especially one that I’m looking forward to.

=)

Something to prove

Just the other day, I heard a comment on a TV lecture about ancient Chinese philosophy. It went something like, “Modern people tend to take on many responsibilities, not wanting to miss out even on a part-time job. All this just to prove their competence and so as not be bored and lonely.”

Damn, she’s bloody right.

Any job is better than no job. That’s why I’ve been doing all sorts of rubbish. Somehow there is a constant need to feel occupied and fulfilled. Doing something, anything, just to make believe that I’ve things to do, people to meet and places to go. And also that I’m capable of doing it. Bumming around is about the easiest way to lower self esteem.

Then she went on to tell a silly story about winners winning in silence and that only the runner-ups hear the applause of encouragement.

First, taking on responsibilities to feel good is not about external validation. Even if all the credit is taken by someone else, doing all that work is necessary just not to feel dumb and useless. Second, her philosophy is too kind to self esteem. After all, if not hearing any applause possibly means you’re leading, then it sure is difficult to know when you really sucked. Maybe she didn’t mean it that way, but the connotation is confusing.

I should have known that something is really wrong with me when all the philosophy I enjoy comes from Calvin and Hobbes.

Calvin: See, Hobbes, we shouldn’t need accomplishments to feel good about ourselves. Self esteem shouldn’t be conditional. That’s why I’ve stopped doing homework. I don’t need to learn things to like myself.

Hobbes: So the secret to good self esteem is to lower your expectations to the point where they’re already met?

Calvin: Right. We should take pride in our mediocrity.

Hobbes: Remind me to invest overseas.

Calvin: I think this snowman is good enough, don’t you? 

Waddling in the baby pool

I should be running statistics and doing analysis for my marketing project. But it’s just not going forward.

It’s extremely irritating when nothing concrete can be done about it, because all the statistics that I would need to make any meaningful conclusion from the survey results is just too postgraduate-difficult for lousy undergrads like us – it’s not taught. Then why are we doing this? All the guesswork and intuitive findings are getting on my nerves.

Pseudo science doesn’t work except maybe in sensational journalism. Getting a feel of the real work from projects like this doesn’t even let us lick the surface. It’s licking a glass panel covering the surface of the real work, making believe that something good comes out of this.

Sometimes, university feels like a whole big smokery. Application-based learning means practice for smoking your boss. Academic learning of abstract theories means learning keywords from big concepts that we can’t understand completely so as to sound professional.

We should either have abstract theories forced down our throats in school, or be thrown into the deep end at work. We may choke or drown, but at least we’ll get the nutrition and learn to swim.

Grade Complications

Idealistically, project work should facilitate self-learning and mutual learning. But what happens when grades come in to complicate matters?

When put between giving others a chance to perform and letting the more capable person represent the group in a presentation, someone said, “I don’t want to jeopardise my grades.”

It is infuriating to hear a comment like that. After all, dismissing an unpolished presenter and depriving him of a chance to learn and gain experience for fear of jeopardising grades just seem too unacceptably selfish.

On the other hand, giving others a chance comes at the expense of multiple practices and guidance from the more experienced members. Considering that the project makes up only a small percentage of the grades, is it worth the time spent? Does it warrant jeopardising everyone’s grades and wasting everyone’s time?

Such is a tough decision to make, all at the same time not wanting to hurt feelings. 

On Shallowness

A couple of days ago I had a brief chat with a friend who was amazed by how some girls could be so passionate about shoes that to them shoes define their individuality. It was so baffling to her that she couldn’t help but let slipped that it was a ”shallow” interest. I could not understand too, how something like footwear could be so important. But something stopped me from agreeing with her.

If being passionate about shoes was shallow, then what type of interest would not be considered shallow?

A person with a voracious appetite for the world, the way it works and the cultures of people? Or a person with an ardent love of the fine arts, indulging in music, exploring art and studying literature? Or a person who places the most importance on interpersonal relationships, caring for family, friendship and romance?

Someone who shows an appreciation for the fine arts would normally not be described as shallow. Yet the only difference between a passion for the arts and a passion for shoes is the object of interest. Both people could be equally passionate and knowledgeable about their interest. Does this mean that, with everything else equal, the “shallowness” of a person’s interest is dependent on the object of interest? Does that also mean that if the object of interest is commercialized, or that it reflects consumerism, then it is of a shallower, more superficial form?

What about a person who considers interpersonal relationships and emotions as the finer things in life? Is he any less shallow? But a person who puts the pursuit of his own happiness as the most important aspect in life can’t exactly be considered much more sophisticated than someone who puts in much effort and emotions into the creation of an object.

I used to write off some people as shallow because of the things they speak about and the things that interest them. Yet, the fervor with which they share their interests and the amount of knowledge they have on it often change my mind. How can a passionate person with ideas and interests be shallow?

New Road Safety Lesson

Most of us would probably have sat through one of those road safety lessons – check that the traffic light shows a green man and that it’s not blinking, look left look right and look left again, put up your right hand and cross the road safely.

Nah, thrash all those ideas. Just step out onto the road, and as the cars come honking towards you, put up your right hand, hold out your middle finger and shuffle across the road like your father owns it. Continue showing your finger to fellow pedestrians after you cross. That’s the way I saw a hippie do it today.

Cosmopolitan and Beer

Tonight was spent catching up with friend and in the process, had some insightful revelations and peeped into the “Blind” quadrant of the Johari window.

Friend: “Caucasian bosses really know how to enjoy. They work hard, but to them it’s also very important to enjoy. They tell me, ‘The weekend is here! Go, go out and enjoy your weekend!’. Unlike Chinese bosses who’ll work late into Friday nights.”

Me: “Sure, Caucasian bosses enjoy their weekends while you work hard for them.”

Friend: “Yeah, that’s true too.”

…

Me: “This song is not supposed to be played with the guitar. The piano should be the lead.”

Friend: “Can you not be so square and think out of the box?!”

…

Friend: “You look like the sort who sits in a bar and drink milk.”

I promptly let her in on some of the benefits that come with being perceived as the goody-two-shoes.

Chai tea gives you wings

Note to self: Never accept an offer to an unknown caffeinated beverage after 7pm at night unless you’re planning to party late into tomorrow’s night.

Zero caffeine immunity, tendency to sleep late and 8 hours of sweet sleep the night before is a disaster when combined with a tea in the late afternoon and chai tea after 7pm.

Yesterday night found me tossing and turning in bed, clocking barely 3 hours of light sleep and waking up with unfamilar alertness. Clueless as to what caused the insomnia, I added an unnecessary canned coffee in the morning and it kept me wide awake way into the afternoon.

A little googling taught me that Chai tea is made with black tea, the tea with the highest caffeine level that should technically still contain less caffeine than a cup of coffee. I must have been drinking the wrong coffee all my life.

In any case, I’ve found my beverage of choice for those weeks of deadlines.