A Crack in the Wood & A Splash in the Sand

A couple of weeks ago, I submitted my last assignment. Just a few days ago, I sat for my final exam. The next semester? It’s all practicum. I’ll be going to SMK Seri Saujana (info, anyone?) with Hanin and Mira, but this post isn’t about practicum. Not yet. It’s not that I’m not ready to go into school for actual teaching. I’ll be lying if I say I’m not scared, because I am, but I’m not ready to let go just yet.

I may be quick to have a change of heart at certain things, but to let go of the last five years is something very hard. I know I’d still see my best buddies until the end of this semester and during practicum. Next year is still over 6 months away but I’m already thinking about separation. I know I’m not close to every one of my coursemates, but I acknowledge and applaud them for their unique personality that makes them… well, them. You can describe someone without mentions of names and we’d probably right away know whom you’re talking about. If I can sum up my coursemates in one word, I only know of one:

A W E S O M E

I probably won’t ever come across similar lot of people anymore – people with talents ranging from sewing to drawing to singing to playing multiple musical instruments to sports et cetera et cetera. It makes me a bit sad. When I return to my hometown, it’s probably going to be even harder to find people like them. Don’t try to correct me. I know this by experience. Even if you think your lot is 100 times more awesome, I can’t verify that since I don’t know them (duh!). Will there still be someone who’d listen to me when I speak or joke?

When I was in secondary school, I remember my teacher saying something like “The friends you make during the last 5-6 years of your life as students are likely to be the ones who’d stay in touch with you throughout your whole life our of pure friendship. They’re likely to be the ones you’d remember the most anyway, so cherish them always.” I seriously hope this is true.

Mira, Hanin, Khairiyyah, Nisrin, Hijrah, Lucille, Zu Lee, Rozi, Dyau, Fifi (I’m stuck calling you that, LOL, sorry!), Zaki, Fayadh, Atie and the name goes on. You guys know which ones of you lot changed bits and pieces of my previously monotonous life. You made me smile, smile, smile, laugh, cry, laugh, smile, cry, smile, and you let me feel all sorts of feelings and emotions – so much that sometimes I’m scared of how dependent I’ve become on my friends. Thank you for being my friends. Thank you for even listening to whatever I’ve crapped about.

I’ve been through changes, like the once smooth surface of wood now lavished with cracks here and there that let sunshine, wind and even rain through. Some parts, though, remain the same, but not so – just like a splash of water to the sand. Splashes after splashes, changes in texture are bound to happen, but they probably would not be so noticable, unlike those obvious cracks in the wood. Some changes made me happy, some not so. I want to leave IPBA so much because sometimes, it feels like I’m living in a military camp where some of the higher ups bark rudely and bitchy-ly most of the times. At the same time, I don’t want to leave my friends and the happy time we had.

And now I also have wonderful juniors as apartment mates and young friends, and special mention to Shap for being my cute and not so naive (anymore because there’s Mira and me , LOL) roommate. Our time of knowing each other is short, but at least I want you people to know how happy you made me feel when you acknowledged my existence.

I’m being emotional. Maybe it’s the time (4.18am). Maybe it’s just me.

And now I’ve lost the stream of words I was supposed to write down. Maybe I’ll continue later.

Ciao.

p.s/ Credit to Zaki for the photo.

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To the people of the Department of Idiotic Idiosyncrasy

So I’ve taken an insanely long break from serious blogging not because I’ve lost interest in writing, but because I couldn’t get my fingers to type on the keyboard as smoothly as I once did anymore. I keep telling myself that it’s fine, it’s okay, it’s not like I have people who’d miss me, etc etc.

The final year is a bit taxing. So many assignments and deadlines to meet. So many activities. The experience is made worse by authorities who hide under the pretense of ‘the ones who prioritise students affairs’. I’m not going to put names (obviously, duh), but I’m sure fellow friends would be able to recognise them by mere descriptions← That’s how much they’re scowled upon.

The Department of Idiotic Idiosyncrasy: Maybe there are a couple of nice people in this department, but there aren’t many of them there. Doing everything on short notices is synonymous with this department. They want everything to be done quickly, but they work at the speed sometimes slower than snails. Let’s not talk about being efficient and dedicated. If you dare tell it to my face that you think they’re the efficient bunch in this college, I’ll gladly smile in your face and tell you to fuck off.

I’d love to know if they’ve actually taken a measure to make things easier to us students – efforts that we can all recognise and rejoice and actually praise them for. They can do everything for the sake of keeping the college name ‘untainted’ (lolwhat? too late for that, no?), but they can’t do shit to make our life easier. I’ve never hated a group of people more than I’ve grown to hate this department of idiotic idiosyncrasy. I’d love to try calling them ‘idiosyncrasical’ and see if they actually understand the word. I bet they’d take it as a compliment if I say it with a smile.

Mister Bastardass: No, he’s not even a lecturer. I bet this guy knows not the meaning of ‘respect’. I don’t even know if he actually really respects his superiors or he’s just been getting on their good sides for the selfish reason of getting a good standing. His temper is worst than a stormy day. Screaming here and there, treating students like kids. LIKE KIDS. We’re over 20, you idiot. You obviously know nothing about psychology, much less pedagogy, so stop barking at tree trunks. You don’t know how to communicate with kids. You confuse fear for respect. You THINK you are feared/respected. Well, observation says you’re not feared. Respected? Dream on.

You know, you don’t shout at adults. You don’t raise your voice and think we’re a bunch of kids who know nothing. You don’t shout at people and think that we’re a bunch of rebellious tweens.  We’re adults and we’re rebellious, so what? Think about the bunch of people (cough, mainly the department of idiotic idiosyncrasy) who gave us no option but to be rebelious for the sake of our rights (or the lack of it, as recognised by the aforementioned department) Like it or not, we’ve been to places you’ve never been to before. Essentially, it’s not arrogant of me to tell you that we actually know better than you when it comes to (ahem) the education system. So? Just… stfu.

Madame Loudspeaker: I don’t remember seeing her around before going to New Zealand, so she’s a new face to me. Oh, what a new face hers is! The first encounter with her was shitty. Commenting on mine and Mira’s watches won’t give you any credit, woman. Trying to sell us your sewing kits or the likes won’t earn you any credits too. She abuses the PA System like nobody’s business. She acts totally like she owns the whole living complex, signing off everything under the name of the Department of Idiotic Idiosyncrasy. She tries to act like her real namesake, but she fails horribly at it. Very, very horribly.

There was once when she made a comment to me and I was in a bad mood. She did’t have to authority to barge into my personal life, so I glared at her and ignore everything she said, giving her with a mere “Could you please stop complaining? It’s my life you’re trying to intrude upon”. I bet I was not that polite when I said it, but you get the point. I’m seriously tired of listening to her high pitched voice over the PA System, with announcements laden with fake concern and grammatical mistakes that could make even school children learning Malay cry. Please, please, please learn the basic of plural nouns in Malay language *cries*.

I really want to know if they really do think about us students when making decisions. For example, our apartment is cramped with so many students and still they’re thinking of stuffing more. There was this incident where Madame Loudspeaker came into my apartment with two guys from (I don’t know) the higher ups’ department in Putrajaya. Room D is not that big. The most you can fit into the room is 3. Those guys had the nerve to ask “Oh, can’t we put five people inside?”. …. Get five of them to sleep there for just a night and get their feedback the next day. If they give you positive feedback, they obviously lie through their nose.

I don’t know what Madame Loudspeaker said/did because I was still pissed at the fact that she let two guys into an all-girl’s apartment and then left our apartment door ajar when they left. Courtesy, woman. Courtesy! And then the notes about us having to empty our rooms to give room to teachers attending courses during the holiday was just plain stupid and inconsiderate. It was signed with ‘honourable mention’ of the Department of Idiotic Idiosyncrasy too.

So…

Awesome people we have back in the old college, huh? ^__^

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A Dash of Nostalgia and A Sprinkle of Salt

Old Picture, Fresh Memory

Yes, the image above is a proof that I’m back to my lomography obsession now.

So I’ve sent two years worth of stuff for shipping yesterday morning. My apartment now looks like a messed up playroom of some poorly organised schoolchildren. After struggling to fit my two years of life into three tea chest boxes, my body aches all over. The boxes were too high for me, so bending down in the correct way was not possible at all. I had to bend down like a dork, even stepping into the box at some point, to make sure the items stay the way I want them to. My back hurts like there’s no tomorrow because of that.

Now that the finals are around the corner (this Saturday, to be precise), I find myself thinking back to the days when we first reached Auckland. It feels like a long time ago, but it also tastes fresh in my mind still. I may be somewhat reclusive compared to most of my coursemates, but I’d like to think that I’ve had a fair share of good times with them, regardless of how limited my participation was.

I didn’t get to go places because of some limitations. My parents greatly discouraged me from traveling. “You can go back later when you’re already working. In fact, you can visit any country you want to once you’re earning some decent money on your own,” my mother once told me. I feel a little sad for not taking the opportunity to travel, but I know Mom meant well for me. I’ll be back, maybe in a couple of years if not next year for certain events where I get semi-sponsored out of luck. I’ll be traveling a lot starting from next year, so I really should not feel sad about not having the time and money to travel this year and the last.

I believe that as long as I’m alive and breathing, opportunities live with me, walking side by side with me and holding my hands. They will always wait for the right time to pull at my sleeves, so I won’t feel sad anymore.

Remembering all those little things makes me feel old. I’m no longer that girl who was paranoid all the time about what people would think about her if she were to choose a certain path. I’ve become that girl who doesn’t care about what people think about her and thinks that she at least has a right to make her own decisions.

I’d like to just extend my deepest condolences to friends who lost their loved ones in the span of two years being overseas. It must have been a great emotional challenge to go through, so I hope my feelings would somehow reach them and become a tiny portion of their strength (even if they don’t need it from me).

I can’t wait to go home. I just can’t wait.

And I’m sure this entry is just one in a series of posts relating to ‘nostalgia’ that I may possibly be writing soon.

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Armageddon Expo, Parnell Festival of Roses & Other Stuff

Parnell Festival of Roses @ Parnell Rose Gardens, New Zealand
Parnell Festival of Roses @ Parnell Rose Gardens, New Zealand

Starters: I’ve been so lazy to update the blog because I’ve been quite active at my Livejournal ever since I renamed my account and purchased a whole year of paid account. I can never really leave my LJ. Ever. The communities are hard to leave behind. Besides, I’ve been there for more than six years. My first account was deleted and my current account that I still use actively and love is nearing it’s sixth birthday ♥. How could I ever forget this attachment? I promise myself to get a permanent account when I start working!

So many things happened in October. I’m now done with assignments, just waiting for finals. I’m also currently really busy with packing up everything that I want to ship back to Malaysia as well as to pack everything so that I can move out early to lodge with Mira, Atie, Mint, Dzeti and Pikah to save money. Yup. Money is extremely tight now. I can’t afford to spend more than necessary. I’m still emo-ing and angsting over the fact that my dress for the formal farewell dinner cost $50 (although $50 is dirt cheap considering it’s from Max). Lol, to think that I’d willingly buy a regular Nike t-shirt for $60 and not angst about it… That really says something about my personality.

Armageddon Expo: Aside from assignments, finals, practicum presentation (that sucked like there’s no tomorrow!) and packing, Mira and I went to the Armageddon Expo on the second day of the event. I’m not fond of western comics and gaming stuff that I can’t really relate to, but my enjoyed my day oggling looking at cosplayers of my favourite series, looking around for stuff that I love (and bought two reference book for my works), blended in with the crowd and went happpy-happy-crazy at the cosplay game, blablabla. Usually I’d write more about this sort of event, but maybe I still feel shaken whenever I think about my camera that I almost lost that day at the expo. Someone found it and brought it to the information counter. I was so relieved! Whoever that kind soul was, he/she has my eternal gratitude!

Farewell Lunch: our juniors organised a farewell lunch for us last week. The food was awesome. Really awesome. It looked like a regular lunch buffet you’d have back in Malaysia, but it tasted awesome (well, it was a restaurant serving Malaysian food at Hobson Street). And the endless refill of drinks. Mmhmm. I’m so grateful for the lunch and I got to bring some back for dinner too! Oh, self, what a cheapskate!

Parnell Festival of Roses: I went to Parnell Rose Gardens with Mira and Hijrah this afternoon. The roses were all in full blossom and they were beautiful. It would have been more wonderful to gaze at the flowers without so many people there, but hey, it was a family festival! Stalls selling various items, stages where people I don’t know performed, children dancing happily to the orchestra and many more. It’s funny that I think the highlight of this event was me buying a box of takoyaki and enjoying it under the sun. I wasn’t even that hungry. It’s just that it’s takoyaki, and I haven’t had one for a long while! It was delicious~ I was tempted to get the obanyaki set too, but then my mind kept saying ‘money! money! money!’ so I didn’t buy any. Amazing how money takes precedent over healthy diet in my life, LOL. Although it was a long walk from my place (didn’t take the bus), it was enjoyable. Remind me to thank Faris for randomly telling me about this event.

Until next time.

Parnell Festival of Roses @ Parnell Rose Gardens, New Zealand

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The manifestation of Fear in Dreams. Or nightmares.

ctoffee0001

I’ve always known that I have some kind of fear of failures, but I didn’t think it would haunt me in my dream. Despite my dislike of writing about dreams, I find myself compelled to write this one for memory’s sake. In most of the dreams that I could remember, I was always in school or academy – the kind of environment that’s only suitable for learning. Last night was different in a way that it deals specifically with assignments. For some reason, my dream self did not submit an assignment due in January and only realised about it when it was already October. I was not sure if I truly did not submit it, or it was just my fear taking over (in the dream, of course). There was arguing and begging and pleading with the lecturer in charge of that subject.

What woke me up was the lecturer’s words, “They are all looking to catch you off guard and fail you. You know you’re finished if you fail the next one.”

I never failed a single paper in life. Not ever. I guess this is what the last semester does to me. I’m not performing as good in two of my subjects now, so the fear of failure is taking over me. It’s funny to have myself flail and squeak and freak out, unlike my previous self who would study like mad by now.

I just can’t find it in me to study so diligently like when I was in secondary school, chasing after scores and grades. The enjoyment I could gain only from studying seems to be gone somewhere. I can’t feel it anymore. Now that I think about it, maybe it wasn’t what I should call ‘enjoyment’. It was not even ‘self-accomplishment’. It’s more like a ‘drive’ to please and fulfill the desires and meet the expectations of everyone around me. I failed to realise that all along, that was my fear of getting scorned by others, mainly my parents.  This particular fear is one that binds my dreamscape to school scenarios up until now.

It’s somewhat irritating, really. Hmph, and this entry is so pointless it hurts.

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