tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-90648552024-03-23T14:17:57.169-04:00Half a Cup of ChaiAKAhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04498257472107820621noreply@blogger.comBlogger218125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9064855.post-38391488998335481132007-10-25T01:52:00.001-04:002007-10-25T01:54:37.649-04:00WORDPRESS!I've FINALLY gone ahead and moves my blog to <span style="font-weight: bold;">Wordpress</span>, for better or worse.<br /><span style="font-size:180%;"><a style="color: rgb(255, 102, 0);" href="http://halfacupofchai.wordpress.com"><br /></a></span><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size:180%;"><a style="color: rgb(255, 102, 0);" href="http://halfacupofchai.wordpress.com"><span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"><span style="font-weight: bold;">http://halfacupofchai.wordpress.com</span></span></a><br /><br /></span><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size:100%;">You'll be redirected to the new blog in about 10 seconds...if my attempt to be html-savvy has not worked then please click the link above :)</span><br /></div></div>AKAhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04498257472107820621noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9064855.post-64531698057796273212007-10-20T09:49:00.000-04:002007-10-20T09:50:59.023-04:00Kids say the darndest things...Had to share this with you - a bit of a conversation between my 8 year old sister and I on MSN (don't worry, she's only got me, my brother and one cousin on there and she doesn't know the password, only I do):<br /><br />M says:<br />the computer won't let us talk so much longer :(<br /><br />M says:<br />because the bar is getting really small<br /><br />AKA says:<br />the bar? what bar?<br /><br />M says:<br />the little bar on the side<br /><br />(*moments later it clicks*)<br />AKA says:<br />ohhhh no! Baby that has nothing to do with how long you can talk!<br /><br />AKA says:<br />It's called a "scroll bar". See the little triangles at the top and bottom of the bar?<br /><br />M says:<br />ya<br /><br />AKA says:<br />if you click on it the screen will go up and it will show you what we've written to each other so far<br /><br />M says:<br />ohhhhhhhhh!!!!!!AKAhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04498257472107820621noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9064855.post-24500080858737222912007-10-19T11:30:00.000-04:002007-10-19T11:58:02.917-04:00The Cleansing of the AuraI've been a little absent the past month.<br /><br />Not only on my own blog, but on others' as well. But the absent-ness doesn't stop there. I've been away from my own mind it would so seem.<br /><br />I turn *gulp* 25 in 10 (11 if you're on the other side of the world right now) more days, and a lot of the last couple months has been spent wondering how I've gotten to this point in my life without being as honest with myself as I should be. And for some reason or another I've been extra homesick since coming back to school here in Australia for my 2nd semester. I thought it was something to do with having to miss Eid and my birthday this month, but maybe it's not just that.<br /><br />As much as I've enjoyed my experience here in Oz, I've also come to realize that I've really let a lot of opportunities slip by me in the last couple years when it came to meeting someone to share the rest of my life with. At first I thought I was thinking about all of this because of the pressure to get married that has been ever-increasing since I turned about 20.<br /><br />But then I slowly came to see that these feelings were coming from within me. Watching a lot of my friends become engaged or married from all the way over here has made me feel that I'm missing out on some part of life. I've always been one to have my head in the clouds and not really pay attention to who's going out with who(whom?), what's the latest happenings in the community and so on. I focused my energy on my family and friends, school and filled the empty spaces with books, movies, TV, and this blog.<br /><br />I've always had this touch of a Peter Pan syndrome where I thought I could be a kid at heart forever even if the age number kept climbing. I figured that when it was meant to be, the right person would just come along and everything would fall into place as it <span style="font-style: italic;">should</span>. But now, after having done some soul-searching and being more honest with friends and myself I see that I'm lonely in my heart more than anything. Yes, I do miss everyone back home, but that's an ongoing thing that I came to terms with when I moved here in May. But this feeling is of some other nature and it's now just plaguing my days it seems (as they say, ignorance is bliss...so knowledge is annoying).<br /><br />Since getting back to school in mid-September (around the time of my last post) I've been sick a couple times, had to set up a new apartment, get used to having an extra course on my school plate and just other small adjustments we tend to have to make in everyday life (grocery store no longer stocking Multi-Grain Cheerios...!?).<br /><br />But in all honestly, I had absolutely nothing to contribute to this blog. Apathy quickly settled in and I didn't even make it to my laptop before I lost interest in even the smallest interesting incident. Every day has been more or less of a routine and a blur while I've been in this cocoon of my own thoughts.<br /><br /><br />BUT, I am happy to report that I am no longer lost in the foggy mist that is life (yuck, can't believe I wrote, let alone thought, such a line...but nothing else to replace it since it's now almost 2:00am here). I feel much happier these days and am learning AT LAST to be comfortable in my own skin. I've taken some matters into my own hands while still leaving others to God.<br /><br />I'm taking dear <a href="http://nomadnowhere.wordpress.com/">Samosa</a>'s advice and am going to be a lot more honest and opinionated - password protected posts be damned - with others and more importantly myself.<br /><br />Bring on the 25th birthday!AKAhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04498257472107820621noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9064855.post-20235896078693881562007-09-16T20:11:00.000-04:002007-09-16T20:32:21.496-04:00The TentPhew.<br /><br />That's the only way I can sum up the last month. As quickly as my first semester here in Oz came and went, so did my vacation time back home. I didn't do a lot, but in that accomplished a great deal. I got to spend some much needed time with my family and friends (including meeting some more bloggers), I got my coffee fix a few times over, remembered what it was to have a home-cooked meal again, and just had a lot of laughs.<br /><br />Ohh and I almost sort of got to see Matt Damon. Almost sorta not really. The Toronto International Film Festival had started while I was home and Jason Bourne himself (ie Matt Damon) was in town doing a press conference for the organization he is now a part of for children called OneXOne (one by one <a href="http://www.onexonecampaign.com/">http://www.onexonecampaign.com/</a>). He held a gala in Toronto with Wyclef Jean and Shakira. I happened to be driving downtown at the time when the press conference was going on outside...well, ok, truthfully, what I expect was the press conference for the gala since there was a white tent set up and tons of cameras and photographers with bright lights. Only problem was that whoever was inside had their backs toward the tent part that faced outside but I could tell they were sitting there since the cameras were pointed and flashing in that direction. There was a huge crowd surrounding the outside, stretching to get a glimpse. There was a humongous onexone banner on the building next to the tent...<br /><br />So yes, I am assuming, with every bit of logic, that Matt Damon was inside and the hand that I think I saw was his. Since I had a car full of relatives I was supposed to be giving a tour of Toronto to, and I was the one driving, I had to smother the desire to leap out the car and go running down the street towards him.<br /><br />It was him. It had to be.<br /><br />Please don't burst my bubble. I'm very content in it.AKAhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04498257472107820621noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9064855.post-46553880791942464882007-09-12T00:09:00.000-04:002007-09-12T00:10:21.683-04:00Vacation is over and I'm heading back to the reality that is school. sigh...why can't vacation days last longer than normal ones?<br /><br />Back to updating when I'm settled in down under...AKAhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04498257472107820621noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9064855.post-30757047981447830172007-08-29T00:50:00.000-04:002007-08-28T21:37:27.323-04:00Back to home cooked meals, family, Tim Horton's coffee, friends, familiar places, Tim Horton's coffee, my own car, regular sized coin and bills, same time zone as everyone else,Tim Horton's coffee...<br /><br />It's good to be home again and it's odd because it feels like Australia was almost a dream that I just woke up from so I never really left home. Then again at other moments it feels like I've been gone for a year instead of about 4 months.<br /><br />I'm taking a few more days off from blogging...mainly because I cannot drag my sister away from the computer as easily as before and because mind is on 'hibernate' mode and I'm really not thinking of anything else but what I'll have for lunch, who I'll go out to see and what movie I can watch. I was given a set of documentaries and found a Noam Chomsky book I've been meaning to read, but intellectual stimulation seems so unnecessary right now. Not when there is homemade ice cream and old Bollywood movies in the house...AKAhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04498257472107820621noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9064855.post-77420466009269963862007-08-19T21:16:00.001-04:002007-08-19T21:22:12.125-04:00Waiting...I am bored.<br /><br />I am bored of waiting.<br /><br />I am bored of waiting at the Sydney airport.<br /><br />I am bored of waiting at the Sydney airport and not looking forward to a 16 hour flight.<br /><br />I am bored of waiting at the Sydney airport and not looking forward to a 16 hour flight, but excited to be going home.<br /><br />I am bored of waiting at the Sydney airport and not looking forward to a 16 hour flight, but excited to be going home, but wish I had longer than 3 weeks.<br /><br />I am bored of waiting at the Sydney airport and not looking forward to a 16 hour flight, but excited to be going home, but wish I had longer than 3 weeks and am paying a lot for hotspot internet.<br /><br />I am bored of waiting at the Sydney airport and not looking forward to a 16 hour flight, but excited to be going home, but wish I had longer than 3 weeks and am paying a lot for hotspot internet as well as everything else at the airport.<br /><br />I am bored of waiting at the Sydney airport and not looking forward to a 16 hour flight, but excited to be going home, but wish I had longer than 3 weeks and am paying a lot for hotspot internet as well as everything else at the airport.<br /><br />I am going to go check in :DAKAhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04498257472107820621noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9064855.post-66522749804855702802007-08-17T19:52:00.000-04:002007-08-17T20:05:08.030-04:00Home Sweet HomeI'm in disbelief over the idea that my first semester of law in Australia is over. I just wrote my last exam yesterday and after sighing with relief, the adrenaline that I had worked up over the anticipation, anxiety and exhaustion wore out and I was completely drained - but still very relieved. It seems to me that the days are flying by so much quicker these days and although sometimes I think that it's good in the sense that I can get on with the process of law school more quickly and go home during breaks, it also saddens me to realize that we're having difficulty holding on to moments within our days.<br /><br />It seems like I was <span style="font-style: italic;">just</span> preparing to come here and right now I'm sitting amongst three open suitcases packing up my residence room to move off campus and to also leave for home on Monday morning. It's that feeling you have when you wait for something for so long and the anticipation grows, but the moment passes by so quickly that the afterthought seems longer than the wait up to it.<br /><br />I'm going to be busy with moving and traveling back home over the next few days, and right now I'm just avoiding looking at the pile of clothes, paper and odds and ends because sleeping seems like a much better alternative to packing and moving! But I have about a 20+ hour flight for that so I'll save it for then.<br /><br />I'm excited to go home and possibly meet more bloggers(?). Just the idea of mom's cooking, my old bed, lovely friends, and Tim Horton's coffee! I just hope the three weeks that I am home will be slow enough to enjoy :)AKAhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04498257472107820621noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9064855.post-50944070851492719302007-08-12T10:50:00.000-04:002007-08-12T11:13:40.036-04:00Illegal Downloading: Good or Bad?In the midst of exam angst, a friend asked me if I had any movies I could give or lend her. I had a couple DVDs on hand so I offered those. She asked me if I had any on my computer that I've downloaded. This caught me by surprise, or amusement rather, since she is one of the very few people I know who makes it a point to say that she doesn't download music, she <span style="font-style: italic;">buys</span> it from iTunes because she says "I just think it's right to only buy them, y'know?"<br /><br />Sure, I know. Not only is file sharing of copyrighted material is illegal, the morality of taking another's creative work without compensation is a big issue for many people. But this girl was perfectly okay with downloading movies from torrent files, Limewire and other sources (she had told me she'd been searching/downloading some last week) and asking others for the same.<br /><br />How is a movie any different from a song!? Same concept, different medium! My "WTF?" expression didn't have any effect because she seemed to not see the connection between her request for downloaded movie and her previous holier-than-thou speech about always buying her songs. When asked to explain her phenomenal distinction and policy, even she had no idea why - "yeah I know, it's weird. But y'know....so do you have any?"<br /><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">WTF?!</span><br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">What are your opinions on downloading/file-sharing? </span><br /><br />p.s. FYI - if you live in Spain, by any slim chance, I'd comment anonymously if you have a pro-downloading opinion since it's a civil (and possibly criminal) offense to file-share copyrighted material now that the legislation has been passed :)AKAhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04498257472107820621noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9064855.post-18003123351721304992007-08-07T09:18:00.000-04:002007-08-07T01:45:32.667-04:00Exam Preparation Checklist:<div style="text-align: center; color: rgb(255, 0, 0);"><span style="font-weight: bold;">Exam Preparation Checklist:</span> </div><br /><br />_x_ Red Bull (sugarless, chilled - 2 cans for every 8 hours of study)<br /><br />_x_ Oreos (original or double stuffed)<br /><br />_x_ Twix chocolate bar(s)<br /><br />_x_ Bottled water (chilled and room temperature)<br /><br />_x_ Almonds (for the healthy option)<br /><br />_x_ Red seedless grapes (also healthy but fun to munch)<br /><br />_x_ Two pillows (for sitting on the bed with my back to the wall at home)<br /><br />_x_ not-too-thick-not-too-thin blanket (for at home studying)<br /><br />_x_ comfy track pants and hoodie<br /><br />_x_ colourful highlighters<br /><br />__ Textbooks (note to self: remove plastic wrap on all books)<br /><br />_x_ Post-it sticky notes<br /><br />_x_ laptop<br /><br />__ prescribed computer wear glasses (note to self #2 - find prescribed computer wear glasses)<br /><br />_x_ headphones (to drown out the unnecessarily chatty girls sitting in front of me)<br /><br />_x_ "24" season 4 DVD (for my "break time")<br /><br />_?_ Lecture notes (missing lecture #6-8...?)<br /><br />__ Brain<br /><br />_x_ Sense of sheer terror and dread of exams<br /><br />_x_ Realization that sleep can no longer be a necessityAKAhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04498257472107820621noreply@blogger.com13tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9064855.post-62026522704043473762007-08-05T03:29:00.000-04:002007-08-06T11:04:22.486-04:00Family Ties<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjTIP6lpo4OYdFeArdGixvC45ht8sgunpspv55AhWD98fk8E6ktYqKuCtiohFkWmKdnLRKbky7maER001YwG6IYfSldX-Oj1SjMrbEMhoP-Q7RjQIuAzn_PIPuq0-TGpI5xwSc-/s1600-h/IMGP4331.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjTIP6lpo4OYdFeArdGixvC45ht8sgunpspv55AhWD98fk8E6ktYqKuCtiohFkWmKdnLRKbky7maER001YwG6IYfSldX-Oj1SjMrbEMhoP-Q7RjQIuAzn_PIPuq0-TGpI5xwSc-/s320/IMGP4331.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5095120124775428402" border="0" /></a><br />Today it just hit me that I am really missing my little sister growing up while being away. I just saw some pictures of her that were taken today and comparing that to just a few months ago when I was home, she seems so much older! I didn't think 8 year olds could hit growth spurts like that in 3-4 months! She just looked much more mature and different and it's bothering me so much.<br /><br />I haven't seen her since I got here since their webcam does not work and no one's had time to get a replacement so the change seems so sudden. My mom said she'd gotten taller, but I guess because changes in your face are so gradual that people you see every day don't notice.<br /><br />She and I are about 16 years apart - I always knew there'd come a time where my brother (3 years younger than me) and I would be off living our lives and she'd be on her own. And for some reason I almost feel guilty. Like I should be there in her house to play with her and be bored with her, especially now that she's on summer vacation. Despite there being 4 other people in the house right now (parents, brother and my grandmother), she's just as alone since everyone is busy. They make time for her as best as they can, but it's so different from when my brother and I were little.<br /><br />Back then we'd have each other to annoy and play with when we were bored and our parents had more time. But both my parents run their own businesses so there's always something to be done and their working hours can be all over the place. And my brother is moving out next month to start a Masters program in downtown Toronto.<br /><br />By the time I'm done this program she'll be a little over 10 years old and I feel like she's growing up without me, other than on the phone. My brother and I have had such a big influence on each other's lives and I'm afraid we won't get to have the same bond with her.<br /><br /><br />This is not a whining fest about how unfair life is - I'm grateful for this opportunity for my life to be here to study, but sometimes I wish I had stayed home just for her sake.<br /><br /><span style="font-style: italic; color: rgb(255, 0, 0);">(the picture on the top left is of my dad and sister at the beach when they came down here to Australia with me in May)</span>AKAhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04498257472107820621noreply@blogger.com11tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9064855.post-22332008747694072372007-08-01T15:14:00.000-04:002007-08-01T15:55:30.557-04:00Beep.<span style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0);font-family:georgia;" >"Hi, you've reached 416-xxx-xxxx...."</span> <span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);font-family:georgia;" ><br /><br />I have no explanation for it, but I'm incapable of leaving a message on an answering machine in one try. Maybe it's the availability of that "erase and re-record" option after you've pressed "#" that causes me to fumble my message the first (second, third, sometimes fourth) time around because I know I can start over if I forgot to throw in some information or I just sounded weird.<br /><br /></span><span style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0);font-family:georgia;" >"Sorry, I'm not here to take you're call at the moment...."</span> <span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);font-family:georgia;" ><br /><br />Though when we call someone it's obvious we'd rather speak to that person right away than leave a message, but after that third ring when we know we're likely to hear their voice come up and ask for you to leave a message, I tense up and start racking my brain to come up with some coherent stream of words to be put together in a casual and clear message.</span> <span style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0);font-family:georgia;" ><br /><br />"Please leave me a detailed message..."</span><br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);font-family:georgia;" >I use the basic </span><em face="georgia" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);">who, what, where, when, how </em><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);font-family:georgia;" >and </span><em style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family: georgia;">why </em><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);font-family:georgia;" >to sort out my thoughts before that tone goes off. Still I'm caught off guard and end up winging the message with a lot of suttering, mumbling and 'um' and 'annndd' and other filler words.</span> <br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0);font-family:georgia;" >"..at the tone. <em>Beep"</em></span><br /><br /><em style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family: georgia;"></em> <span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);font-family:georgia;" >Oh crap, what did I need to say again? Oh right...</span> <span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);font-family:georgia;" >"Ahem...Hi! This is AKA, I was calling in regards to... </span><em style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family: georgia;">(who did I dial again? Ohh right.)</em><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);font-family:georgia;" > um, I do need to hear back from you a.s.a.p. </span><em style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family: georgia;">(shoot, should've said "as soon as possible", sounds better)</em><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);font-family:georgia;" > please call me back at 905 </span><em style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family: georgia;">(dammit wrong country!!!)</em><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);font-family:georgia;" >..I mean, sorry, 042......Thank you </span><em style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family: georgia;">(should I throw in a have a nice day? Why not, maybe they're having a bad one)</em><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);font-family:georgia;" >...Have a good day </span><em style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family: georgia;">(nice! I meant to say nice...ah well) </em><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);font-family:georgia;" >."</span> <br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);font-family:georgia;" >And when I do get through that message I have the urge to go back and listen to the jumble of sentences I've left on that poor soul's voice mail. As the playback starts I start editing my message for things I've left out and other things I didn't need to say.</span> <span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);font-family:georgia;" >Then comes attempt #2. </span><em style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family: georgia;">"Ok,"</em><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);font-family:georgia;" > I say to myself, </span><em style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family: georgia;">"just get it all in with one shot then just HANG UP...my name, why I'm calling, and my number, it's easy! Aaaaand..Go!"<br /><br /></em> <div style="text-align: center;font-family:georgia;"><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"></span><hr width="350"><br /></div> <span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);font-family:georgia;" >I'm not exaggerating when I say that about 3 days ago I was leaving a message for a potential hiring manager and I had to re-record my message Eight times. A few times my voice sounded squeaky. Once I forgot to put in my name. </span><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);font-family:georgia;" > I started coughing at the beginning of another. </span><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);font-family:georgia;" >Then a few times I didn't sound confident enough. Then in another I didn't sound friendly enough. Finally I blurted out a message (I had enough rehearsals after all) and hung up quickly before my finger had the chance to choose the option to review my message.</span> <span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);font-family:georgia;" >I still haven't heard back from her...maybe one more try would've helped?</span> <br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);font-family:georgia;" >(You think that's bad? I haven't told you what I go through to set up my <em>own voicemail...)<br /></em></span>AKAhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04498257472107820621noreply@blogger.com10tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9064855.post-57625284133032472872007-07-29T18:08:00.001-04:002007-07-29T18:38:24.070-04:00Sydney in all (or some) of its gloryI took a weekend trip into Sydney a couple weeks ago and since I said I would share my Aussie experience, here are some select pictures I took while there (same as the ones on Facebook)...<br />(you can click on the image or the URL to take you to the web album)<br /><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">Make sure to check the very last picture/thumbnail in the album</span> - it's a a really small video I took from the steps of the Opera House - just so you can get an idea of where everything is around it. Not exactly master photography work, but it's the best I've got! Enjoy :)<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://picasaweb.google.com/halfacupofchai/Sydney"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj39T6haluAzZsAKluymeeLjXYI3S0rlGjSEAFa3napxWtL8h3Zr_ct9vbaBfLBlBqsAC4UOsEdmudnXWaUDQOLFzF4xf_k0XmH-jaO3OON4Xzusx493z4pCDb-nvEnfO01zklK/s320/IMGP0161.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5092737972704309506" border="0" /></a><br /><a style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(0, 0, 153);" href="http://picasaweb.google.com/halfacupofchai/Sydney"></a><div style="text-align: center;"><a style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(0, 0, 153);" href="http://picasaweb.google.com/halfacupofchai/Sydney">http://picasaweb.google.com/halfacupofchai/Sydney</a><br /><br /><div style="text-align: left;"><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;"><br /></span></div></div>AKAhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04498257472107820621noreply@blogger.com9tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9064855.post-53182772268241065562007-07-29T01:27:00.000-04:002007-07-29T02:28:00.918-04:00Pride and Prejudice...and the Paper<p class="MsoNormal"><i><span style="font-family: Arial;" lang="EN-AU">The writing process is a hard one for me. Whether an essay or blog post, I sit thinking in my head of where to begin. Once the wheels start grinding in my head, I can pick up steam and plow into my work. But sometimes, "for fun", I decide to write about my frustrations out of sheer boredom. One day while working in the library I had an encounter with another student that I wrote about right after she left. While cleaning up my hard drive today I found what I had written (and saved for some reason) and thought I'd share a bit of randomness from my mind - what else is a blog good for?</span></i><span style="font-family: Arial;" lang="EN-AU"> <o:p></o:p></span></p> <div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"><span style="font-family: Arial;" lang="EN-AU"> <hr style="width: 262.5pt;" align="center" size="3" width="350"> </span></div> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Arial;" lang="EN-AU"><o:p> </o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style=""><span style="font-family: Arial;" lang="EN-AU">I leaned my head back against the wall behind my cramped corner desk and started back at the flashing cursor on the still blank page open on my notebook computer. <i>Maybe if I scrunch my eyes together tight enough a great opening line for this paper will pop out from the pressure?</i> I tried it. Nope, still nothing. Damn that cursor! It’s as if it became my third grade teacher, Mrs. Ferguson, tapping her pointy-toe heel shoes on the ground as her patience with me grew thinner while she hovered over me when I was trying to figure out my multiplication tables. The more impatient she got, the faster she tapped. And at this moment I could swear that the cursor started to speed up its own intolerant flashing.<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Arial;" lang="EN-AU">After all, how hard was it to write a judicial reasoning paper on the principles, rules and policies used by the High Court to decide on establishing a tort of individual and corporate privacy?<br /><br />Frustrated at my slow beginning on my paper, I closed my laptop and leaned forward, shutting my eyes, to rest my head on top. <o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style=""><span style="font-family: Arial;" lang="EN-AU">I stayed in that position about ten seconds before an airy, high-pitched voice drifted towards me.<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style=""><span style="font-family: Arial;" lang="EN-AU">“Helloooooo” it called. <o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style=""><i><span style="font-family: Arial;" lang="EN-AU">Oh no. Here she is to ask about the progress of my paper. My nonexistent paper. I can get away with lying for about thirty seconds before she sees through my fake drivel. And then her self-praising air will kick start to choke me. How well can I fake a migraine?</span></i><span style="font-family: Arial;" lang="EN-AU"><o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Arial;" lang="EN-AU">"Done yet hmmm?" she asks me, smirk already plastered on her face.<br /><br />"No, not all the way yet, I was just --"<br /><br />"Reallyyy? I just have to write my conclusion! I think most people are struggling, but <i>honestly </i>I don't see the big deal. It was actually pretty easy. Maybe I could help you, what are you having trouble with?" she asked batting her lashes and smoothing her auburn hair - probably to keep her devil horns from popping out.<br /><br />"Actually, you didn't let me finish," I said, taking a deep breath trying keep my voice steady and convincing. She was not going to put down another student. I will not stand for it anymore - procrastinators and the confused have some pride and dignity to maintain. "I haven't finished all the way because I'm just editing my final draft." I try imitating her smirk, but I think it's come out lopsided and too happy. But her reaction was gold.<br /><br />"You're <i>finished</i>?!" she sputters, mouth agape.<br /><br />"Yeah," I reply coolly, "just yesterday. I took my time with it and you're <i>right, </i>it wasn't hard at all. The prof said I was on the exact track he was looking for when I showed him this morning". My lies were surprising even me.<br /><br />Her eyes narrowed as she studied my face, searching for a glimpse of untruth. "Well, what did you write for the main analysis of Justice Kirby then? Everyone I talked to is stuck there"<br /><br />"Oh that, yeah that wasn't so bad, as I'm sure you found, but since the prof said I was write, I'd rather not go into it since you're not done your essay and I am. But come back and see me when you're ready and we can discuss it" I say, smiling and sweetly as I can while trying to stifle a laugh.<br /><br />"Oh. Oh, well okay then. Yeah, we'll talk then" she falters, turning around and walking away with a quick glance over her shoulder.<br /><br /><i>Good thing she didn't catch me sticking my tongue out at her. Now about this damn paper...</i><o:p></o:p></span></p>AKAhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04498257472107820621noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9064855.post-88794396774225838662007-07-24T06:47:00.000-04:002007-07-24T11:11:04.079-04:00Good Idea Bad Idea/Lessons Learned<span style="font-weight: bold;">Good Idea:</span> wearing the glasses your ophthalmologist recommended (over and over) and said would help you see better and for longer periods when working at the computer all day long.<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Bad Idea:</span> wearing the prescribed glasses all the time (because otherwise you'd forget them or lose them - yes, case and all) so that people walking by at a certain distance seem blurry but waving at them anyways because the blurred heads resemble someone you know.<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Moral learned:</span> do not wave at random strange guys who you <span style="font-style: italic;">think </span>you know, but turn out to be that weirdo who tried to slip three of your friends his number...within the same hour at the same study table. Said weirdo will always try to make contact thereafter, leaving you confused, amused and annoyed whilst attempting to study for exams.<br /><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><hr width="350"><br /></div><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Good Idea:</span> pre-ordering the latest and final <span style="font-style: italic;">Harry Potter </span>book so you will not have to fight off 12 year olds on the day of release.<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Bad Idea:</span> Delaying the pick of up of the book on Saturday afternoon so that you get too busy to read the book, other than the first 80 pages (that you read on the bus while a friend chatted away), and then telling a new friend that she can borrow it for the evening because you will be going out for a friend's birthday and will fall asleep early when getting home. Even though new friend said she would return it the next morning, <span style="font-style: italic;">sometimes</span> morning can mean 6:00pm Sunday evening...at which point you are working on assignments for that upcoming week.<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Further Bad Idea:</span> staying up throughout the night on Monday to finish <span style="font-style: italic;">Harry Potter </span>so you can avoid running into people talking about the book and having to <span style="font-style: italic;">run </span>(literally) the opposite way to keep from hearing parts you've not read.<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Worse Idea:</span> Staying up all night Monday to read <span style="font-style: italic;">Harry Potter </span>(despite how good it is) and sleeping in until 12:10pm after you've actually finished when you have a group debate presentation to make in class starting at 12:00pm.<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Shameful Idea:</span> Pretending to be sick when you finally arrive in class to avoid getting beat down by classmates for being late.<br />(<span style="font-style: italic;">Hey..it's not like I could tell them why I was really late...and we did end up winning the debate...so, all was well.)</span><br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Moral Learned: </span>All sacrifices are worth getting read the final Harry Potter book *sigh*AKAhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04498257472107820621noreply@blogger.com11tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9064855.post-81040526039813976492007-07-18T13:17:00.000-04:002007-07-18T13:20:49.113-04:00Under ConstructionSo I've decided to rekindle the relationship with Blogger...only because I cannot get Wordpress set up the way I want (I'm an annoying perfectionist when it comes to the silliest things like setting up a blog..!). But maybe it's just my computer, but does everything load properly for everyone on here? Any dead links? Or ones I should add? Or delete...?<br /><br />Any and all feedback is much appreciated (even if it's the anonymous kind...)AKAhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04498257472107820621noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9064855.post-84928188057033052912007-07-15T05:49:00.000-04:002007-07-15T06:28:45.972-04:00One of the more difficult parts of living so far from home is that you tend to think life will remain the same for everyone you've left behind.<br /><br />I may just be a very selfish person for thinking it, but I may have harboured some hope that I could come home anytime, and nothing nor no one would have changed or moved on. As if life back home stood still in time waiting for my arrival to start-up again.<br /><br />Alas, this egocentric fantasy gets tainted for me every time the slightest thing happens back home and I'm not around to see it first-hand. Silly things like when my dad bought a new car last month, or my brother getting a new Macbook (how am I going to mess around with it from here!?). Then there are things like life events of friends - engagements, marriages and babies.<br /><br />I know what others have told me is true. I will see everyone soon and hopefully get to enjoy other moments in their life and I'm after a certain goal so it's just a sacrifice.<br /><br />But then there are times, like today, when there is a death in the family and while everyone is grieving together at home, I feel like I've been stranded and have no shoulder to lean on other than over the phone. That's probably the most self-absorbed thing to think - how I cannot grieve like everyone else. Rather than think of what my family is going through I'm being selfish.<br />I was away this past weekend in Sydney, touring and having fun. When I got back this morning and called home, no one told me what happened because I'd been sick and was exhausted from the trip. So I rambled on about inane things and didn't pick up why everyone sounded 'off'. Later in the evening (at home) my mom called to tell me. By this time pretty much all of our relatives and friends had found out. Somehow I became one of the last.<br /><br />The relative who passed away lived in India, somewhere I've been dying to go since my last trip was when I was about 6 years old. I remember right before my sister was born, some eight and a half years ago, I was thinking about how time was going by so quickly and all these relatives I had in India who I barely remembered but who talk about me as if I was right there. Heavy thoughts for a 16 year old. Since we don't have any family in Canada, and not the big of a family anywhere else, I hoped always to meet my paternal grandparents as well as my maternal grandmother's only sister and her family.<br /><br />A few weeks before my sister was born, my paternal grandfather passed away. He was always someone my dad spoke so highly of and endlessly about. I had hoped I'd get the chance to hear stories from him about my dad's childhood and his own. When I heard of his death, I grieved for the grandfather I had missed meeting and all my missed chances. Still all about me...<br /><br />Today my maternal grandmother's only sister passed away. And after hearing so many things from my grandmother about her, I was looking forward to a trip to India to meet her. I feel like I've missed something again. Like there are these gaps in my life that I'd been wanting to fill and now, never can.<br /><br />I still cry today at moments when I miss my mom's brother - he passed away a month before I was born. He and my mom, being only a year apart, were very close. I remember<u><a style="font-weight: bold;" href="http://rubytuesdays.wordpress.com/">Ruby</a></u> saying in a post of hers awhile ago that you cannot miss what you don't know. I've struggled with that for a long time since being a kid. I thought it was weird for me to miss someone I never even had the chance to meet. But I think when I hear about how happy and excited he was to have heard he was going to be an uncle, I think of all the moments in my life he would have been around for.<br /><br />For some reason I miss my uncle more than my maternal grandfather, who passed away when I was 2. My aunt (mom's only other sibling) says I was lucky since I was the only grandchild on their side to meet him. I don't think 'lucky' is a fit word though. Maybe I feel more attached to him for that reason though.<br /><br />Regardless of all of this, I cannot get over the selfish thoughts floating in my head. I <span style="font-style: italic;">should </span>be more concerned for everyone else in the family and how they are dealing with the loss in our family today. Instead I keep thinking about <span style="font-style: italic;">my </span>loss.AKAhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04498257472107820621noreply@blogger.com11tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9064855.post-74504753383380652562007-07-07T08:48:00.000-04:002007-07-16T13:38:03.902-04:00This is why the typewriter should be resurrected...I am now convinced that machines or electronics do not like me. That's right - somehow they have communicated with each other and formed a strong solidarity against me and my any attempt to remain at peace with them. If there ever were such machines as the ones in "War of the Worlds" - I'd be the first person they'd track down and obliterate.<br /><br />There was my camera, which after falling in the sand on the beach for a MICRO-MILLISECOND decides to make a strange grinding/screeching/whining sound when I turn it on, after which it shuts off on its own. My cell phone thinks it would be kinda amusing to see what happens when it doesn't display missed calls - just so people who call think I'm not returning their calls on purpose. Then of course, <u><a style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(0, 0, 153);" href="http://halfacupofchai.blogspot.com/2007/06/when-munchies-attack.html#comments">the vending machine</a></u>. Now, my printer is on the fritz and decided that about 20 minutes before my paper was due that it would just simply not work. No refusal to turn on. No noise. No flashing lights. Just. Won't. Print.<br /><br />Yes I know I shouldn't have waited until the last minute, but this is the situation the <span style="font-style: italic;">whole </span>class was in - because we couldn't figure out what the case, let alone the question about it, was about until the night before it was due.<br /><br />So imagine yourself in this situation. It being about <span style="font-weight: bold;">3:41pm</span>, essay being due at 4:00pm in the library drop box (which is a 5 minute speedwalk from your residence) and your printer is apathetic about doing it work. There's a series of reactions you would go through.<br /><br />Blink once -<span style="font-style: italic;"> "noooo....it can't be..?"<br /></span>Take a deep breath of air -<span style="font-style: italic;"> "oh pleasepleasepleasepleasepleeeeeease" </span>- try the ever-popular "turn printer off and then on again" method. Still nothing.<br />"<span style="font-style: italic;">OH YOU HAVE GO TO BE KIDDING ME YOU STUPID PIECE OF $&@*(&)*U&)@*~!!!"<br />*BANG* </span>"WORK DAMN YOU, WORK!!!!!!"<br /><br />By this time it's about <span style="font-weight: bold;">3:46:37pm</span>. Your spine is frozen from the sheer terror of having to turn in this paper late (which you put your blood, sweat and endless tears into). Still being in your pajamas you blindly grab at pieces of clothing in your closet, rip the cords from your laptop out and jam it into your backpack. <span style="font-style: italic;">Of course </span>it is only logical that at this precise moment you also cannot find your keys that you need to lock your room because you've heard there was a theft on the floor above.<br /><br />You run around your room throwing clothes and paper around trying to find the two keys attached by one lone yellow plastic keychain tag that just has your room number on it (which of course would be so helpful for any thief who could find them to know exactly which room to go to). And this is right after you <span style="font-style: italic;">removed</span> that long BRIGHT coloured lanyard that you had on the keys because your keys were just getting too bulky, but which made them easier to spot.<br /><br />Aaaand right after you think an eternity has passed, meaning just about 2 minutes, you find them behind the box of crackers you had been munching on all night to keep yourself sustained.<br /><br />Grabbing the keys your run like a woman (or man) possessed out the door, managing to get your jacket caught in the door in the process. Down the steps, past the people trying to say "hello" to you and across the campus (of course, you did not get the residence that was <span style="font-style: italic;">next</span> to the library).<br /><br />Arriving at <span style="font-weight: bold;">3:55:49pm</span> disheveled and and fear-ridden you open your laptop, try connecting to the wireless internet from your laptop...which takes longer than ever before to connect. Eventually it connect, you pull up your precious document, and click print send the print-job to the nearby printer.<br /><br />Blood drains from your face when you think you've forgotten your student ID card that has money on it for your printing. A quick pat down reveals you did indeed stuff it into your jean pocket while searching for the keys.<br /><br />You look up at the library full of people with 'triumph' written on your face. Then look over at the printer, ready to run over - there are 3 people lined up. <span style="font-weight: bold;">3:58:02pm</span>.<br /><br />You briefly consider yelling "FIRE!!!" to empty the place out, but refrain - it just <span style="font-style: italic;">may </span>be frowned upon.<br /><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">OH YES!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! ONE OF THE GIRLS WAS JUST STANDING THERE WITH HER FRIEND!!!! Whhyyyyy stand there and give the impression to poor, unsuspecting printer-wanters that you too are a printer-awaiter?!?!?!?!?!?!?! WHY WOMAN!?!?</span><br /><br />You run up to the printer after the person in front of you steps away, swipe your card and click frantically. Thankfully the printer-gods have seemed to forgiven you because the printer spits out all your pages effortlessly. You grab the sheets, <strike>run</strike> walk briskly to the circulation desk, staple - wait, stapler broken, staple with Stapler #2 - and jam it into the drop box.<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">3:59:49pm</span>.<br /><br />Piece of cake.AKAhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04498257472107820621noreply@blogger.com12tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9064855.post-4666026493046687452007-07-05T01:15:00.000-04:002007-07-05T01:25:27.152-04:00Blog snob no more<span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 153);">Hello peepz....I've replied to allll the comments you lovely people have made for the last three posts. Nothing spectacularly enlightening - no sonnets or speeches - but in case you asked a question and wanted the answer :)<br /><br />Many, many "I'm soooo sorry" lines for not doing it sooner!<br /></span>AKAhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04498257472107820621noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9064855.post-13540739065747139932007-07-04T10:19:00.000-04:002007-07-04T07:31:31.564-04:00AKA Found and Lost"What's up?" asked an unsuspecting friend of mine.<br /><br />What's up?! How could you simplify the past two weeks to answer that mundane question?<br /><br />To counter the rumor mill (i.e. two people on Facebook), I did not convert to Hermit-ism and go into hiding under a bridge. My days have been spent<br /><br /><ul><li>becoming fused to my laptop (due to extended use) at the wrists, </li><li>becoming in danger of carpal tunnel syndrome, </li><li>playing "what's that noise" with my sister on the phone (a game that consists of her playing different sounds over the phone from around the house and me periodically throwing out a random guess to keep her entertained, since she just started summer vacation, while I make notes or read) at 3:00am, </li><li>hallucinating that there is some sort of sheet flapping around in my room behind me when it's 5am and I am still typing away at a Contracts assignment.</li><li>getting freaked out a little and messaged a number of people on MSN to find out why Facebook was telling me that my account was unavailable. This is how sad the addiction has become and</li><li>Y'know how sometimes when you've done so many all-nighters in a row the week just seems like one reeeaalllyyy long day? Sorta like a whole season of the show <span style="font-style: italic;">24</span>? Yea...so I'm still assuming it's something like June 26th.</li><li>periodically trying to figure out Wordpress and wondering if I should make the move over...?</li><li>wondering what will happen in the last Harry Potter book due out in 17 days!!! (Yes, I've pre-ordered my copy at a bookstore here and I am prepared to elbow a kid in the head to make my way into the store at opening time to claim my copy. The kid should know better.)<br /></li></ul><div style="text-align: center;"><hr width="300"><br /></div><span style="font-weight: bold;"><br />Caution: Future Legal Minds At Work</span><br /><br />G: "There's so many of these terms we have to remember..!! I'm going to start writing these down in alphabetical order with the meanings so over time I have them all"<br />Me: You mean...like the law dictionary you already have...?<br /><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><hr width="300"><br /><br /><br /><div style="text-align: left;">I'm officially thinking, and working out, a switch to Wordpress. The main reason being the password protection option for posts. If any Blogger employees cross this - why oh why won't you add that feature!? Our relationship would be so much better if you would be so kind as to make this compromise.<br /><br /><hr width="300"><br /></div></div>AKAhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04498257472107820621noreply@blogger.com10tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9064855.post-70769722544940860142007-06-21T23:13:00.000-04:002007-06-21T23:29:55.791-04:00AKA MIABeing about the 6th day that I've gone with about 4 hours of sleep I'm really not quite sure if I'm really typing this or imagining I have....I'll have to check later on about 4am when I'm actually 'awake'. But thought I'd let the inquiring mind know that I am indeed alive and well (depends on your definition of "well" actually), but being the middle of the semester the professors have some sort of collective vendetta against us and are slamming us with readings, assignments, negotiations and like the majority of students, I'm treading water - but that's law school for you.<br /><br />I had started and then stopped writing a number of posts because I get side tracked so if I did post it you'd have half a story or anecdote, which may leave you to think I dozed off and posted something without knowing or my blog was hijacked.<br /><br />Next week will is quite literally a week from hell so I will update and reply to comments (<span style="font-weight: bold;">sooooooo sorry for not replying to ones from last post!!!! </span>Promise will do it soon!) in a couple weeks after I've caught my breath. I know I've also been tagged in a few things (<span style="font-weight: bold;">thank you, thank you so much for thinking of me...I've not forgotten!</span>) so I will have a flurry of updates soon!<br /><br />Til then my only means of communication with the world is through cryptic Facebook messages, one-sided MSN conversations (the other person being the one conversing that is...again, sorry!) and phone conversations where I'm trying to figure out <span style="font-style: italic;">Fardon v Attorney-General of State ---</span> and explain to my mother that I am not mad at her, nor am I depressed or on drugs and 'yes' I have eaten.<br /><br />On the same note, do forgive me for not commenting on your blogs, though I will tell you that I am updating myself on them during my lectures and other moments of time.<br /><br />Hope everyone is happy and healthy.<br /><br />AKAAKAhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04498257472107820621noreply@blogger.com14tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9064855.post-8660190316302058172007-06-01T07:59:00.000-04:002007-06-01T10:21:18.043-04:00When the Munchies Attack<span>"It's 11:10pm and I'm hungry - ate an early dinner in the library and there's nothing in my room to snack on (mental note: do groceries for room). I'm going to have to resort to vending machine munchies.<br /><br />"Where the hell is my wallet? DID I LEAVE IT IN THE LIBRARY!?!??! OH NOOOOOOOOO! I DID DIDN'T I!? And now it's CLOSED!! What am I going to do?? Call the Security office? No...the old Aussie men will look at me like I'm strange and laugh. But then I NEED my money! What the - oh here it is. (mental note 2: get a brighter coloured wallet so it does not camouflage itself inside my backpack)...<br /><br />"Bag of chips costs HOW MUCH?! $1.80?? That is highway robbery! Student robbery. I'm setting up a petition - "Lower Cost of Vending Machine Snack for Starving Students", "LCVMSSS" for short (Mental note 3: find out who to complain to about ridiculously high junk food prices.). Need more change....must hunt through messy room...<br /></span><span style="font-style: italic;"><br /></span><span style="font-weight: bold;">15 minutes later...</span><br /><br />"Okay, I've searched through coat pockets, drawers, purses, backpack, shoes, pants, makeup case, fridge (still don't know how I found a quarter in there last time...) and I only have...$1.25??? Oh God no....now what? One more search...<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">10 minutes later...</span><br /><br />"So THAT'S where that hair clip went (mental note...some number...look under pillow for lost hair clips in the future). Still need $.55 ....I should give up and go to sleep. But I'm <span style="font-style: italic;">hungryyyyyyy</span>. I miss mom. Mom would have food (mental note some number plus 1 - call mom).<br /><br />"Must go to neighbour...hmmm it's 11:30pm, who'll be up? Loud Canadian-studying medicine guy? No...not him. Nice-girl-from-South-Africa? No I saw her while I went to the vending machine first on her way out for the night. OH! Giggly-Australian-business-law-girl! She's cool...yes!<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">2 minutes later...</span><br /><br />"Aaaaand she's not home either. Great. Why does everyone have a life but me? Should I call a friend from another building...and embarrass myself for 55 <span style="font-style: italic;">cents?</span> Nonononono....I have some dignity left at this point, <span style="font-style: italic;">despite </span>searching my bathroom for change too..."<br /><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">Just then my floor's RA came into sight from around the corner.</span><br /><br />"YES!! YEEEEESSSSSS!!!! God Bless you Stephanie! May you always have exact change for every vending machine your eyes ever set on!"<br /><br />Stephanie was more than happy to oblige and give me $0.55 so I skip down merrily to the vending machine and laughed in it's face...er, glass.<br /><br />"Take that over-greedy chip makers of the world! TAKE THAT! I have arrived and with EXACT CHANGE! And here I am putting it in...making my selection aaaand- WHAT THE!?"<br /><br />Chips were stuck in the little spinning arm that holds them in.<br /><br />"Oh holy...I can't believe this. All that crazy searching...CURSE YOU MACHINE!!!"<br /><br />Shaking it didn't help. The chips sat snug in their corner, innocently staring at me. Alright. I was defeated. Nothing could be done that wouldn't either label me an idiot so off to bed it was.<br /><br />I got to my room and changed into pajamas and was folding up my jeans when a small "thud" sounded. My eyes glanced down at the carpet and lo' and behold - at $2 coin. I could've cried.AKAhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04498257472107820621noreply@blogger.com17tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9064855.post-79471751915696121652007-05-28T09:20:00.000-04:002007-05-28T11:41:25.860-04:00The New(er) and Improved(-ing) AKAIt's a truth universally acknowledged that a person in search of a purpose will eventually come face to face with it just when they near give up hope.<br /><br />Unfortunately, I have yet to come face to face with my purpose, and fortunately, I've yet to give up hope on it. I know it's a more 'romantic' notion, to think we have some meaningful purpose in our life to fulfill - something that makes it seem like we made a difference or at the very least will be remembered after we've passed.<br /><br />Sitting here so far from home I've gained the perspective that though no one knows how long they will live, there are plenty of moments that we can grasp and flip upside down to change what we want in our lives. Not to say we have any true control - I'm a firm believer in destiny and we will travel down the path that God has intended for us. But we're fortunate that every day allows a new beginning to change what we did yesterday.<br /><br />I sound like a sedated wannabe-poet. But, I actually have a point, somewhere.<br /><br />I've always been a fairly shy person, just my nature. And having moved around so much in my life (count is now at 11 different places, and 10 different schools) I've developed a dependency on myself. I've never been one to ask others advice (not that I don't think they will help me or won't have anything of value to say) just because it seemed that by the time I trusted someone and gained their friendship, something would happen that got me to start all over. But then again, I've always been the eldest in my own household and my mom's side so I've been the one everyone else, including the elders, came to to get advice.<br /><br />I'm also a believer in "everything happens for a reason".<br /><br />Take <u><a href="http://halfacupofchai.blogspot.com/search?q=very+detailed+girl"><span style="font-weight: bold;">VDG</span></a></u>for example. Sure, she's kooky, and no, I'm not sharing an apartment with her next term, but one of her better qualities is that she says what she wants, when she wants to. Though that may not be the best thing in certain situations, it's gotten her to criticize (not in a rude way) some characteristics of mine that I'd never thought about - such as my insistence on being as independent as possible. She pointed out that though it is a good quality, you need to learn to trust people and share your problems to help grow a friendship. I've actually struggled a long time with this, especially with a very good friend of mine who I'd get into arguments with when it was obvious I was upset, but wouldn't tell anyone why.<br /><br />My thinking on it was that I shouldn't bother people with my problems and that no one would really care, so I need to take care of it on my own. But it does make sense the other way, doesn't it?<br /><br />Another girl I met here has such a bright personality that she can (and does) go up to a group of strangers and start up a conversation and come back 15 minutes later having made friends with all of them (including adding them to MSN and Facebook - the blooming ground for friends...ha). I am in total awe of that. I could <span style="font-style: italic;">never </span>imagine myself doing that - even if I knew one person within that group I'd still think twice (ok, thrice) about going up to them. "What if they look at me? And judge me?? And don't like me?! And find out that I am neurotic and strange and overly addicted to ER???"<br /><br />But, having watched and talked to her made me realize that I could be missing out on making some great friends and that I do not have a Friendship Magnet that will attract unsuspecting potential-friends my way. I have to make the effort and go out in search of them and be more open.<br /><br />Somehow people have got it in their head that I'm supposed to meet the love of my life down here (maybe they are just desperate to see me get married..!?) and although I have no idea whether that will happen, I can say that so far Australia is helping me grow into a better person.AKAhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04498257472107820621noreply@blogger.com10tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9064855.post-81802604242553567122007-05-24T00:21:00.000-04:002007-05-24T23:35:37.801-04:00The Uni Life<span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 153);font-size:85%;" ><span style=";font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:130%;" >[I'm still having trouble uploading all my picture - I wanted a website that would mass-upload them rather than having to select each file individually because I have so many pictures, so instead I've post a random selection of picture of my university campus. And yes, that's a real lake in the middle of the campus that stretches all around the suburbs. And no, people don't go swimming in it - there are bull sharks and those crazy jumping fish in there]<br /></span></span><span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(0, 0, 153);font-size:85%;" ><br /></span><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(0, 0, 153);font-size:85%;" ><hr width="350"><br /><br /></span></div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos-948.ak.facebook.com/photos-ak-sf2p/v82/165/81/506034969/n506034969_52948_2731.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 200px;" src="http://photos-948.ak.facebook.com/photos-ak-sf2p/v82/165/81/506034969/n506034969_52948_2731.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos-952.ak.facebook.com/photos-ak-sf2p/v82/165/81/506034969/n506034969_52952_3696.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 200px;" src="http://photos-952.ak.facebook.com/photos-ak-sf2p/v82/165/81/506034969/n506034969_52952_3696.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a>I'm now an official student at my univeristy - meaning I bought a sweatshirt with huge lettering. School pride, baby.<br /><br />Thank you all so much for your encouraging words. I knew homesickness was going to be a factor in the first few weeks while being here, but can you blame me? I had to leave so many wonderful people behind. But no one said making this my home would happen overnight. Everyday you get a little more comfortable and the process is tough, but if I couldn't cope, I wouldn't have done it [got that Anonymous? Write it down if you need help remembering. And then check <a style="font-weight: bold;" href="http://liyapilly.blogspot.com/2007/05/censored.html">this</a> out and learn a little something].<br /><br /><hr width="350"><br /><br />There are some who hide behind the label of "Anonymous" when speaking their mind, and then there are those who will stand up at a podium and shout it. Both <a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos-290.ak.facebook.com/ip002/v72/165/81/506034969/n506034969_53290_1672.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 200px;" src="http://photos-290.ak.facebook.com/ip002/v72/165/81/506034969/n506034969_53290_1672.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a>are extremes but I envy the latter. I've met a couple people recently<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos-944.ak.facebook.com/photos-ak-sf2p/v82/165/81/506034969/n506034969_52944_1749.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 200px;" src="http://photos-944.ak.facebook.com/photos-ak-sf2p/v82/165/81/506034969/n506034969_52944_1749.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a> who are anything but shy about expressing themselves. It's interesting to watch but puzzling. I've never been able to say what I wanted when I wanted to say it. The moments tend to pass me by leaving only the aftertaste of the "shoulda, woulda, coulda". Though these types of people may get in trouble for what comes out of their mouth, my take is that at least they've said their mind and will deal with what they need to. On the other end of the spectrum there are the people-pleasers who need to be agreeable and maintain the peace and avoid confrontation - people like me.<br /><br />I've never been able to deal with confrontation. I dread it, unless it's talking to a family member, in which case I'll make myself heard around the neighbourhood if I need to. But usually I'm one to let things slide and don't get upset over little things. So I have trouble understanding why people create such drama and have meltdowns when small things go wrong - getting the wrong entree in a restaurant, person not calling you back, someone who was late, why so-and-so is not talking to such-and-such over this-and-that. It's all just fluff to fill up our lives so why pay so much mind to it?!<br /><br />It's known to be more of a ''girl'' trait - this over-obsessing and over-anal<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos-304.ak.facebook.com/ip002/v72/165/81/506034969/n506034969_53304_5889.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 200px;" src="http://photos-304.ak.facebook.com/ip002/v72/165/81/506034969/n506034969_53304_5889.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a>yzing of little situations. Then talking about it with ten other people. Then figuring out why it happened. Then would <span style="font-style: italic;">should </span>have happened. It's all too exhausting...<br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos-296.ak.facebook.com/ip002/v72/165/81/506034969/n506034969_53296_3437.jpg"><img style="cursor: pointer; width: 200px;" src="http://photos-296.ak.facebook.com/ip002/v72/165/81/506034969/n506034969_53296_3437.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a><br /><br />Basically it all boils down to this girl I met here let's call her TTM (Talks/Thinks Too Much). TTM seems to have met the whole campus in the last two weeks, including all the other Indian people (all from Canada...is there anywhere we <span style="font-style: italic;">don't</span> travel in packs!?) so which automatically means the some sort of drama is soon to follow. And follow it did. Now TTM is telling me about how this guy said this to her and how she thinks that. About how<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos-950.ak.facebook.com/photos-ak-sf2p/v82/165/81/506034969/n506034969_52950_3218.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 200px;" src="http://photos-950.ak.facebook.com/photos-ak-sf2p/v82/165/81/506034969/n506034969_52950_3218.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a> she met someone who got her mad so she told him off but wants to stay friendly with him anyways (after which the questions started "should I be friendly?" "Why?", "Why not?", "He shouldn't have said what he said to me, right...right? RIGHT!?!?".<br /><br />Chicks....sheesh! Where are all the sensible, fun, smart girls?! Like the ones who read this blog and the ones I know back home? Don't they come to Australia? TTM is nice and she's cool to hang around but if I get dragged into another "dramatic" situation, I will jump into the lake in front of our school which is said to have bull sharks. Trust me, it'd be worth it. I came all this way to escape that whole 'brown' scene that is so prevalent back home, but somehow landed smack into it without knowing it.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos-943.ak.facebook.com/photos-ak-sf2p/v82/165/81/506034969/n506034969_52943_1508.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 200px;" src="http://photos-943.ak.facebook.com/photos-ak-sf2p/v82/165/81/506034969/n506034969_52943_1508.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a>But Aussie is fun still. Aside from being a beautiful place you start to find so many people from all over the world on the campus. My neighbour to the left is from South Africa, and the one to the right is from Korea. Though the lecture halls average about 100-150 people, the tutorial sessions are broken down to groups of 10-15 people so you get to talk a lot more with people you may have otherwise passed by. People are friendly with others, although there are small cliques - which you can never escape - you get to hang around all sorts of people.<br /><br />Here's the bad part - anyone who's travelled very far for university (meaning no weekend trips<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos-270.ak.facebook.com/ip002/v72/165/81/506034969/n506034969_53270_5669.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 200px;" src="http://photos-270.ak.facebook.com/ip002/v72/165/81/506034969/n506034969_53270_5669.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a> home) could tell you that life here is found to be in a bubble. You live, eat, sleep, learn all within the same grounds so one day seems to stretch on forever. You forget that you're even in a different country and surrounded by so much because everything around you quickly (took two weeks for me!) becomes normal. Although I didn't expect that the novelty of being in Australia would last forever, I'm already looking for escape routes to get off campus more because my trip home in August just seems too far away.<br /><br />Life is so much so bubble-fied (bubble-ized?...Bubbly?) that I have no idea what to blog about now. Don't get me wrong, I'm still very happy and enjoying my work, but the routine settled in quicker than I thought it would! And now I fear I've become a boring person with no life on the outside world. Maybe I'm just in a blog-rut? Nothing really of substance to say but I'm still typing away, possibly to make some contact with the outside world!<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos-992.ak.facebook.com/photos-ak-sf2p/v82/165/81/506034969/n506034969_52992_6022.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 200px;" src="http://photos-992.ak.facebook.com/photos-ak-sf2p/v82/165/81/506034969/n506034969_52992_6022.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a>P.S. I know it seems I'm complaining about people here, but those are just the two weirdos I've found (VDG and TTM) - soooo many others are perfectly normal and super great, but the weirdos are always more interesting.<br /><br />P.P.S. The picture on the left is the view from my room - overlooks the lake.<br /><br /><br /><br /><div style="text-align: center;">********************************************<br /></div><span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 0, 0);">UPDATE: Okay, so I'm through feeling like I'm in a rut. Nobody other than myself can help me from feeling this way so I've decided to take some control and get more involved in campus life. I'm going to join the Student Council and some other clubs/organizations around school and meet people and have fun, dammit! I used to be pretty involved in undergrad, so why stop now, right?? And I set out to make the most of this experience and the "experience" won't come to me, so I'm going to "it". So THERE! </span><br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0);"></span>AKAhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04498257472107820621noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9064855.post-72865088852283890512007-05-20T00:09:00.000-04:002007-05-20T11:38:17.797-04:00I don't know what it is about being here but I suddenly feel quiet old. And boderline desperate? I'm here for two years and I have this heavy feeling that when I arrive back home after finishing my degree, people at home will have moved on and settled into their own lives while I am still trying to find one.<br /><br />I know that I'm here to do something good, and everyone is proud of me, but I can't help but feel a little lost. It doesn't help that many of the people here are 18 or so, just out high school and entering unversity to complete a LLB degree, while me, Miss Post-Graduate is in the "mature student" category.<br /><br />Anyone who knows me that "mature" is the last label that I'd have attached to me. On that same note, people who do know me tend to think I'm a super-confident, brainy girl which I can't see myself being. I did take this big step and move here, and maybe I'm weird, but I didn't see that as monumental as entering my mid-20s. I'm hoplessly spiralling back into in a quarter-life crisis...<br /><br />A friend told me I have to quit complaining because I was in Australia - to which I replied that Customs here didn't confiscate my right to feel sorry for myself and I didn't think I was exactly breaking a local law. Maybe I have problem with self-sorry-feeling, or maybe I'm just like everyone else. Why can't I just wallow in the yucky feeling sometimes? I have a right to wallow and wallow I shall.<br /><br />I have no idea where I was going with this post but I did start out with a point...which has slowly seeped to the back of my mind. VDG is adamant on moving off campus next term and taking me with her. I have no clue what I want. Nothing new...I've always been indecisive and easy going to the point that sometimes I just don't know what was my decision and what was someone elses.<br /><br />Maybe homesickness is starting to set in - it's been exactly a week since my family left and that I've been on campus. No matter how many lovely new people you meet, it doesn't substitute for family and friends back home right? Again, "friend" says that sure they miss me too, but that I'm in Australia, so I'm very lucky and shouldn't feel this way. Needless to say "friend" is now a blocked entity on MSN.<br /><br />And I'm out of peanut butter...*sigh*AKAhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04498257472107820621noreply@blogger.com12