Time is really flying by, isn't it.
I'm finally back in sunny Singapore, and I don't even think the initial euphoria has worn off yet. Finally seeing my sister, swimming in the pool, drinking endless amounts of teh peng and meeting old friends is just something Canberra cannot provide. My sis, for one, is now heavier than I can carry and can knock people over with a hug (not so fun after the first time). It's strange, the ease at which I can admit to myself how much more I can love Singapore more than Australia. I've probably spent most of my younger years hating this place and trying to escape.
Anyway, Fenner is lovely as a second home. The people there are pleasant and friendly, and by far the only complaint I have is the unsavory fear of getting my food stolen. I remember first-year me laughing and thinking, "Ha ha! There's no way I would move into that place. If I wanted to get my food stolen, I'll just leave it to the ants." (I actually did think exactly that, and the shocking meanness of it is why I remember it so well.) But Fenner is wonderful, and I'm glad to have a place to look forward to returning to.
Incidentally, I've been quite obsessed with personality tests lately. Like the Myers-Briggs Typology. I just cannot wrap my head around how there can only be 16 personality variations among 6 billion people (it feels like a cosmic inside joke). Of the thirty-something people I have asked, they all seem to agree that the test is fairly accurate. Under my pestering, my parents have done the test too, and apparently I'm more similar to my mum than my dad (which is interesting because my mum and I polar opposites in terms of interests, social interactions etc). I keep rereading over and over the explanations for my personality type. It's as if someone had been secretly living in your head, got bored and so is now gracious enough to explain yourself to you (I imagine that fellow must be an INTJ.)
In the meantime, while I wait for most of my sg buddies to finish their exams, I'm going bowling with my dad and shopping for more shoes. It's good to be back.
Sunday, October 11, 2009
Saturday, October 03, 2009
If we don't know somewhere to go, back to the 101.
Oh, internet.
Do you remember just a few months ago when I was so proud (and a little cocky) that staying off-campus suited me to a tee? Today, I'm ruminating over whether I should move into a hall. And not just any hall, mind you. Fenner Hall, which has all the benefits of an in-campus hall except that it is off-campus. (That was mean. I honestly do like Fenner. They have maps and flags all over in case we get lost.)
On a random note, since I broke my glasses and put on contacts a few months ago, people seem to have trouble recognizing me. At first their squinting and disbelief was quite amusing to me (I even tried a "I'm Rachel's sister" on a friend), until I realized that it was my lips that identified me. I still find their reactions funny, but I now purse my lips as an extra precaution whenever I'm squinted at.
Which reminds me, I've been engaged in a staring match with statistics in a bloodthirsty battle to the death. It doesn't like me, and I reciprocate that loathing proportionately. But with a few tuition sessions with a friend, we have now reached an impasse. I will work hard at it, and in return it will tolerate me for another month or so. It's working out so far.
More often than not, I find myself wondering about what I am going to do in the future. And this line of thought scares me excessively. I still have about two more years of undergrad, but it seems the deadline to decide is getting tantalizingly closer each time someone asks me what my plans are after I graduate. I always wish I have a good answer prepared for that situation, but I don't. And these days I feel as if the answer will never come.
And before I forget, Happy Mid-Autumn Festival, you! (I'm actually seething with regret now, because I have already eaten the mooncakes I had.) But here's to hoping you have more patience and good sense than me, and have some lovely mooncakes to enjoy as well.
Do you remember just a few months ago when I was so proud (and a little cocky) that staying off-campus suited me to a tee? Today, I'm ruminating over whether I should move into a hall. And not just any hall, mind you. Fenner Hall, which has all the benefits of an in-campus hall except that it is off-campus. (That was mean. I honestly do like Fenner. They have maps and flags all over in case we get lost.)
On a random note, since I broke my glasses and put on contacts a few months ago, people seem to have trouble recognizing me. At first their squinting and disbelief was quite amusing to me (I even tried a "I'm Rachel's sister" on a friend), until I realized that it was my lips that identified me. I still find their reactions funny, but I now purse my lips as an extra precaution whenever I'm squinted at.
Which reminds me, I've been engaged in a staring match with statistics in a bloodthirsty battle to the death. It doesn't like me, and I reciprocate that loathing proportionately. But with a few tuition sessions with a friend, we have now reached an impasse. I will work hard at it, and in return it will tolerate me for another month or so. It's working out so far.
More often than not, I find myself wondering about what I am going to do in the future. And this line of thought scares me excessively. I still have about two more years of undergrad, but it seems the deadline to decide is getting tantalizingly closer each time someone asks me what my plans are after I graduate. I always wish I have a good answer prepared for that situation, but I don't. And these days I feel as if the answer will never come.
And before I forget, Happy Mid-Autumn Festival, you! (I'm actually seething with regret now, because I have already eaten the mooncakes I had.) But here's to hoping you have more patience and good sense than me, and have some lovely mooncakes to enjoy as well.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
