10 July 2010
Categorised as School & tagged with holiday, uni.
Four years in uni should contain four Winter breaks and four Summer breaks. Should. It’s not like I’m a nerd that studies 24/7, but it just so happens that I never allowed myself to have a real holiday over the past three and a half years.
- 2007 Winter break: tried to study ahead for the next semester in order to keep up good grades to get into Law school.
- 2007 Summer break: enrolled in a Maths paper for fun and work.
- 2008 Winter break: essays and tests for double semester Law papers and work.
- 2008 Summer break: enrolled in a Finance paper, a necessary prerequisite and work.
- 2009 Winter break: essays and tests for double semester Law papers and work. Again.
- 2009 Summer break: enrolled in Company Liquidations paper because it’s one of my favourite subjects and work.
- 2010 Winter break: essays and tests for double semester Law papers and work !@£$% and AMUNC event in Sydney.
- 2010 Summer break: I initially promised myself I will enjoy this break with no study at all. But I’ve already made the grave decision to enrol in whichever paper that I have ever the slightest bit of interest in.
Who said uni was freer than school? I can’t stop the voluntary self torture, and hence I probably can’t complain. 
I definitely need a proper break for revitalisation but alas! I expect 2011 to be quite the same.
3 July 2010
Categorised as Personal & tagged with friends.
“Best friend” should really be used for the one top friend and tends to be mutual. But as I have indicated earlier, I have multiple “best friends”, some of whom may not consider me as a best friend. This is because of the way I “organise” my friendships so that I have friends who are closer than others in different “departments” of my life and activities.
For example, I have an S closest friend in law school, I have an S closest friend in girly gossips, I have an S closest friend who’s also my boyfriend (Stephen), I have closest friends of different countries, I have closest friends of different circles, I have closest friends in different organisations, I have closest friends in different stages of my life… and I often lazily refer to all of them as “best friends”. But my one true best friend, Sean (another S), is my bestest friend.
Sean probably took a big role in shaping who I am today, so my personal profile would not seem complete without introducing him.
The Beginning
We began as classmates when we were 11 and 12. I got along well with everyone, especially well with the males, and especially well with Sean because we were chess buddies/rivals and he tried to edge closer to me in the hope of dating me. 
I believe we maintained close contact even after we got into different high schools because he was stubbornly crushing on me and promising everyone that he won’t give up on me until he was 28 years old. Eventually he gave up after four or five years because I was cruel. Examples:
- I repeatedly told Sean I would never like him because he was “childish and immature and bony”. These adjectives haunted him for many years to come.
- I was naturally “allergic” to Sean, and still am. If he edges close to me, I’d step back. If he edges closer, I’d scream. Out of reflex. So even as best friends, we have never hugged, I have never leant on his shoulder for a cry, and I never allow him to touch me. If we ever accidentally touch each other, I’d get goosebumps and feel like disinfecting myself.
- Apparently there was once I made him be my slave for a day in exchange for my kind grant of some refill paper.
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1 July 2010
Categorised as Miscellaneous & tagged with parents, technology.
After decades of the old blocky TV, we finally got a flat screen LCD TV in our house for the first time, a sweet 40-inch Sony Bravia. But this TV also made me realise how absolutely hopeless those old parents can be with new technology
Day 1
Stephen and I spent two hours moving the new TV into place and setting it up. We also kept the wiring of the various machines (DVD, Karaoke, etc.) the way they were. So technically, everything would have started working like magic after we plug the cables into the TV. However, we were left with an extra cable which we couldn’t figure out where to fit into.
When dad came home from work, he found the “hole” in the wall which that last cable was meant to go into. Good job dad! All he had to do with make that very last connection… But no, he pulled out all the other cables too, based on intuitive doubts about us young people’s abilities. I tried stopping him, but I was pushed away and yelled at by mum for not just sitting back and listening to dad.
So who had to do the work of fixing up everything in the end? Duh.
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