After the ensuing madness of online air-ticket buying fiasco, I finally purchased a seat for August 30th to Portland from Singapore before rushing off to school for my 10 minute appointment with Dr Yew about a topic that I hadn’t thought of yet. A visit with the doctor with a huge metal syringe full of water injected into my ear later, I started feeling giddy and my words sometimes came out incoherent. I left school at 4pm and by the time I got home, I couldnt fight off the nausea. Missing Patrick’s phonecall 2 minutes after really didn’t help either and I felt my forehead getting warmer. I am beginning to think that I am allergic to school, nausea and all kinds of maladie flower within me at the end of every school day. Perhaps the daily routine of classes, of videos proudly marketing the guilt of consumerism of wanton life, of fingernails clicking away distractedly on silver keyboards conceal the anguish of missing him. As we sit in air-conditioned classes contemplating the grave consequences of poverty, I guilt uncomfortably while my thoughts are fixated on what to get for lunch. I fight a moral battle every lesson and this is taking its toll on me. Before school started, I persuaded myself to think that the absence of intellectual stimulation from academia was a disease slowly eating me from inside. Then school finally began and my sad little excuse for misery fell apart. Now I have nothing to hide behind and I have only my own mortality to face up to. Perhaps not knowing what the problem is but spinning a lyrical yarn can absorb some of the pain. Perhaps the search for the right words pithy of this sense of hollow melancholia can create a poetic something. I keep telling myself that I won’t be here for much longer and someday perhaps I’ll be forced to eat up my words, oh the girl who always said she’ll never miss Singapore, with a bitter dose of nostalgia. I refuse to write I miss Patrick because it sounds so trite and whiny. And with the same pride, I refuse to say it out loud to anyone, or even to myself because I don’t want to listen to these hopeless, hollow words.
Hier epreuve de francais, c’est difficile… Je ne fais pas cinq question et le essai. Alors, je suis fatigué à l’école. Fatigué de souffler.. Qui ne comprennent pas.
Filed under: L'Ecole, Life, Prison of Academia, Suburbia America, Thoughts, travels
The quick 5 minutes in between classes of stuffing cold sandwiches down an empty stomach, gray skies, jaded professors, tired eyes… Its so easy to forget that school is just one facet of life. What with the unending stream of projects, the mudslide of datelines to procure before it comes tumbling down on you. Perhaps contentment is a state of mind, maybe happiness is an option. But in Singapore, in school, happiness and contentment are faraway notions that are not a part of my everyday vocabulary.
It’s true, I’ve missed one entire week of tutorials and lessons. No offense taken if you think I am irresponsible and careless, running away like that and tossing my grades back into the forgotten skies of Singapore. But aside from the periodic pangs of stress that Evolution homework evokes, I am doing really well here. In between the mornings of him being at work, I busy myself with appropriating essays amidst the regular household duties. The wonders of the internet : group discussions over MSN, emails to professors and uploading essays on the IVLE.
In short, it is in Maryland that I accomplishing more than I ever will in Singapore, where I come home only to sleep away the fatigue into the distant dreams of a better tomorrow.
So lest you think I am sunbathing in our backyard with a delicious strawberry margarita in one hand and Kundera’s lyrical offering in another, waiting for the hubby to pull up in a spanking new BMW. Think again.
(It’s fall and chilly, why would I be sunbathing. I am also not of legal age for the consumption of alcohol here in the US. We also own a Mini and most of this week I am struggling to complete Evolution homework on the PAUP. Life science people who feel a stroke of charity this weekend, please instant message me on MSN.)
xoxo
I absolutely hate it here in NUS. I’ve done enough group bitching today about the crappy grading system and the didactic teaching to ramble on again here.
So instead, I will count my blessings instead. I am thankful for my family — my parents who work so hard for their kids , a comfortable roof over my head, warm food to eat every dinner and an awesome family. I am grateful for the opportunity to love an amazing person like Patrick who makes me even more fortunate by loving me in spite of the sonofabitch distance 🙂 I love you baby.
And thirdly, for being in the USP. School would have not make sense if not for the people and the classes I’ve met and taken. Thank you to each and every precious one of you that I see around cbox, that has taught me a module, everyone is awesome in their own right 🙂
Solitude. Such wanton lacking of it in Singapore. Everywhere, people shove and bump into each other; the streets too narrow for regret. The spacious cafetaria in school, clumped with little enclaves of students dotting the circumference of each table staring and being stared at while they eat.
It’s tiresome, college is. And on wednesdays when I dont have classes, I feel less exhausted being alone. Stares weigh me down and having a friendly disposition is just tenacious.
I am swamped with so much work and it’s only the first week. Expectations and the hope of doing well preoccupy my mind while the effort towards reaching these goals make up a significant quotient of my time. The rest of it, while not devoted to reading is spent on well, reading.
Tonight, I have Milan Kundera for company.
Dear XXX,
I am hereby writing in the hopes of doing an additional module of the code LAF1201 – French 1, for the lecture classes. This is in light of being unable to both bid and appeal for this course through the CORS system. In the advent of my academic circumstances, it is crucial that I take this module this semester because my other modules are fairly lighter than the ones I will be doing in the remaining 3 semesters ahead prior to my graduation. I will be doing CBMs ( course based modules ) and ISMs ( Independent studies modules ) which are in line with the USP curriculum. I also need to do 6 modules in one of my remaining semesters of NUS in order to graduate on time. Hence, with only 5 relatively easy modules this semester and a prior basic knowledge in the French language, I find it pertinent that I should be allowed to take this module. I was unable to bid for this module in the previous rounds for 2 reasons. The first being that I was only allowed to bid on 5 modules at a time for the earlier rounds and have done so for the more important ones. Secondly, French as we all know, is very popular in NUS and thus I fell short of being able to bid in the later rounds as all the places were taken up.
I feel that, in the consideration of such grave circumstances, I deserve a place in French 1. My tight schedule of 5 other modules permits me only to spare time for Group number 5. I trust that as the respected individuals you are, will give me a place in French 1. I believe the university is a place for great learning and that everyone should be given a fair advantage even in lieu of disadvantaging circumstances. I am writing to you with great urgency because this will have much bearing on my grades. I implore of you to help as best as you can. Below is the original message of rejection sent to me by the good people of CORS appeal, in case any reference is required on your side.
Sincerely,
Natalie
I am really stressed out about school next semester. Found out today that I have to do 22 MC worth of unrestricted electives. It was one of those nebulous academic matters that you never really wanted to believe had to happen, until a blustery Tuesday morning at 7am. The realization wakes you up, if the stress hasn’t already.
On top of that, weep for me. I’m not going for exchange because aside from grade matters being away from Singapore doesn’t compute in my equation. I go back to Maryland every summer and winter break. So being away from my family for 4 months on SEP and then leaving to be with Patrick will make my family very very unhappy. The inevitable strain ofbeing home sick will eventually catch up with me, and I will whine about being away from my loved ones. I did think of applying for university of toronto since the proximity to my grandmother’s apartment at scarborough is favorable. But out of the 2 places available, I didn’t get either.
The way I have mapped the rest of my 2 school year out is that I’ll be doing 6 modules every single semester starting from this one coming up. I’m not sure if my unrestricted electives should really be dedicated towards pursuing my interest, french or if I should be practical and just do a non-arts module so the grades if horrible, don’t count towards my total grade point average. Probably the latter because if grades didn’t matter, I would already have quit school. Ok, too extreme. But you know, harsh fact of life is that grades matter much. And NUS/USP judges accordingly.
Sigh. Wish my pat pat was here,but he is at work so that’s alright. I get to see him soon in about 4 hours. Am not looking forward to the 5 months of slavish hardwork in school without him. Drives me crazy being without him.
In spite of myself, I’ll remain optimistic. I doubt Chris Chong or Wenqi are reading this right now. If you are, thanks for calming my frayed nerves today. Really, thank you.
♥
For a person who has the habit of always getting what she wants no matter the circumstances, disappointment can be quite the fatal blow.
The few days after the results of last semester’s fiasco have been shrouded by the terrible miasma of regret, disappointment and fear. I am reluctant to admit that I regret not working harder for my grades during the past semesters in college which resulted in this profound disappointment that envelops my heart and cast a shadow of fear onto my future. Now, more than ever I have doubts that I can qualify to go to Stanford for a post grad in political science. Fyi, the department demands for a 1. 3.8+ gpa 2. a GRE of 1500 and above out of 1600. It gets more absurd : they accept 12 out of hundreds upon thousands of applicants every year.
12.
Of course there are other choices for equally if not more deserving schools like Harvard, Michigan, Chicago, UVA. But Stanford is still for me after I’ve factored into the equation cost of living, housing expenses, the weather and location. I mean, Northern California with its eclectic of people, quintessential charm, clean beaches and amazing climate. And of course Stanford has a gorgeous campus, second best political science degree in the United States. Très parfait, now if only my gpa was good enough.
I have to do a reality check at this point because my gpa sucks and if it continues plummeting, I’m gonna have to pick my spot on the highway selling fruits. Well, maybe not. But I sure as hell would not want to work in a claustrophobic cubicle in XXX corporation, slaving for someone else’s realized dream. So, while I am doing absolutely nothing in Maryland save for the monthly read of The Economist and gothic prose, I’m gonna borrow Diana’s GRE studyguide and well, study from it. I’ll get a head start in studying for the GRE which I have definite plans to do in fall of 2008 and also get to learn some new words, however random and detached from everyday communication.
And next semester will scheduled back to back with study parties in the central library, level 3. Bring your laptop, notes, a bottle of water and the firmest resolution to pull up your gpa. Who’s in???
I know the next 2 years are going to be quite hellish what with the grim repertoire of harder modules . But I also know that my dream to study in Stanford, no matter how daunting or impossible it seems, is a worthwhile pursuit that I won’t regret.
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