Love for the sciences

  "What class are you in?" the petite girl a year younger asked after seeing me attempt to catch a bug while waiting for my ride home. "Bio class." I said as the bug before me showed no signs of being the right type for my bio experiment for taxonomy. I promptly gave up on the bug and returned to the girl before. She was probably waiting for an explanation on what I meant when I nonchalantly explained to her that I needed to bake the bugs. By all means, I suppose I do sound nuts. 
  "I need to collect a few insects for experiment. We're suppose to bake them alive and pin them afterwards." 
Probably sounded a lot more like ...
  "I bake insects because it's a wonderful treat. Especially when they're alive. I get to put them on display and eat them when I'm bored, hungry or both. It's a form of art and a favourite past time of mine. Did you know cockroaches tasted like chicken?" 

  Which is why I guess I do owe her quite an explanation. (Exaggerated much but yeah)  She slowly warmed up as I explained on about all the weird things I had to do ever since taking biology.
"Why didn't you take physics?" 
Hmmn.. Because I can't do physics... Simply put, I understand the theories and yet I can never put them to proper use. I must admit it's a lovely subject with all the theories, what puts me off is the calculations. Like really. No. NUH.
"How about accounts?"
Maths. More maths. (Coming from someone taking Technical Mathematics I really ought to shut up but haha, No) Well aside from not having the basics of accounts in high school I really never did ever see myself as an accountant in the future. It's just not me. Perhaps I could pick up the skill but I'd never be one.
"Means you like science?"
*A brief moment of silence as I waited to see which part of the argument in my head would serve as the victor.*
(Yes No what I don't know but I'm always complaining about how hard and tedious it is and how I'd rather write and draw at times. But you talk about it everyday don't you? Your phone is filled with lame science jokes and puns. You get excited about it for no apparent reason at times do you not?) Okay. I yield. I love the sciences no matter how I often complain about how I'm more of an artsy people person and act like I was forced into the sciences.

  -NEWSFLASH- writer recently found out she loves the sciences -NEWSFLASH-
Okay maybe it doesn't sound like that big of a deal to you but it is a big deal to me. It means I have another hint on what to do for my future career. All the signs were there and I never bothered to realise what it could've meant.

 But it's times like this you've gotta appreciate having friends
who share their perspective of you (albeit by means of stalking your social media or tolerating your character on a day to day basis. I'm still grateful.) On the right is a snapshot of a convo where the "class mom" sums me up from my tweets. Surprise surprise xD.

 And yes, Our group name is hell as we talk about our lives in hell. We discuss about maths in hell. We contemplate about life and where to get food in hell. Of course, our mascot is a potato. For we are all potatoes with a few single pringles mingling about.

So yeah, after much fuss. Yes, I do love the sciences even though it puts me through hell everyday (unconditional love no?) And I might not be as artsy smartsy as I thought but to hell with that, I'm evolving into a nerd of sorts.
                                     
  Nerds are cool. Just like bowties. 

     Bowties are cool. 

*Quote from The 11th doctor from Doctor Who* :)

Just a thought : Death and me

     It never really hit me that someone I loved was gone from my life till I came home from school one day and they just weren't there anymore. How do you explain death to a child? I don't recall having anyone give me an explanation. So I came to understand it by myself through my own perception.
   
     When I was 7, My grandfather passed away during my first month of primary school. If I recall correctly, he was confined in bed during his last few days. During that time, I was spending my holiday in KL with my cousin. I had yet to return since I suppose that time no one bothered to think about getting a kid like me back home since it's not like I can help out much anyway. But somehow, I miraculously ended up in the hospital where my grandfather lay. It seems that he was reluctant to go without seeing someone. The adults couldn't figure out who, even the cousin from overseas rushed back, who else could it be. Turns out,  It was me. Why me? I don't know. No really, I don't. I didn't even know what was happening, my sister was peeling skin off the grapes for my grandfather and my relatives were crowded at the end of his bed. In contrast of the visitors for the other patients, seems that grandpa's section looked the most lively. But not for long.

    It never really occurred to me that he was gone for good, not even when I came home from school to see a coffin where my grandfather lay in satin nor when they moved the coffin and forbade children from participating in the burial. I suppose now I knew why, I would've freaked out and started screaming for them to stop. For them to stop and realize that my grandfather was in the box and it was not okay to bury him in the dirt, playtime was over so why won't they let him out?

   Even after being old enough to tag along during the burial ceremony of a few of my relatives, I wished I didn't have to go. One that really hit me the most is during my aunt's funeral, we were all fine and dandy throughout the whole thing, till the moment they pushed her coffin behind closed doors and all we could see was flame from the other side. I was 12. And man did I cry like the little girl I was, Of course I got scolded by my aunts who were in tears as well.

     Back then, I suppose, To me, death meant not being able to see someone anymore. When I came home from school and all that's left in the corner of grandfather's usual place in the shop was his blue plastic chair. No more old man with a jolly smile and black frames on his nose, not even the sight of his trusty umbrella in which he uses to stash money at times. I didn't have to call him for lunch, nor did I had to make up sign languages to get him to understand me anymore. My limited Hokkien never seemed to be a problem for me to converse with him, I just acted out whatever I had to tell him and he understood or maybe pretended to. But there was no need for that anymore. No more random trips for Soya bean and Pao in the evenings.

    I remember every time I  come back from school secretly crying over something, I would ask for him between sobs. I would keep on asking where he was and why he wasn't here, only to be answered by thin air and the sound of my own despair. I don't know why I did it, I just did. But once my mom told me that he comes back as a white butterfly once in a while to check on us, I never really did cry as much anymore. I just believed her without questioning anything, but somehow every once in a while a white butterfly roamed about at home. Which I would always assume to be my grandfather or any other ancestor.

   So yeah, there you have it. My perception of death. Which in a way has a somewhat happy ending with souls coming back as white butterflies.

  In memoir of my grandfather, branded for being mischievous and clumsy. But all in all a jolly man who is a kid at heart. May you rest in peace.

Rants and many mental screams

   Recently got my results for STPM and mind you if seeing me cry a river is any indication of a somewhat good result in your opinion, you ought to get help. Yes my results weren't that great. Do I regret taking STPM? No. Not really. (But I do get annoyed when someone in the family said they chose this path for me or this path was wrong from the start. Bloody hell please just shut up for goodness sake) 

   Anyways, after we got our exam slips I sat down and talked with a group of close friends in class. 
"So what will our parents say?" Each us giving the other a silent acknowledgement of the toughest part of getting results -- showing it to our family. One of my close indian friend said:
 " I'm gonna ask my mom for a hug."  I stared on into empty space and nonchalantly replied "Oh. Your mom hugs you." That earned a great fit of laughter from her despite my genuine remark. Does everyone's mom hug them often? But after confirming with Viv, turns out I wasn't the only one. Perhaps it's a chinese household thing. Or maybe it's just mine. Speaking of moms, I decided to make a call to my mom later that day.

   Mom started off the conversation with some random things bout her garden and mischievous grandchildren. I listened and gave brief comments. Then came the main reason for the call, with her saying "actually you're studies also not bad all the while right." And I suppose thats where the convo took a massive turn. I picked up some quotes and advice from my mom from that call.

"What's the use of crying, Focus on what you can do next. Then you won't even have time to cry."

"If all I did was crying when something bad happens, I would've drowned in my tears long ago."

"Compare yourself with others and compare to death you shall"

"Like those TVB drama in the palace liddat, need to be sly a bit wan."(She was referring to 宫心计)

   You probably can tell where I got my sense of humor from by now. Anyways, can't deny that she landed me with cold hard facts. Despite saying I shouldn't compare myself to others, She still compared me to my cousin who was dubbed "faster and better in all places". Suppose its a habit for typical asian moms to scar their children unknowingly. In all honesty I felt kind of god forbid me whats the word---- shitty. Suppose at that point I was mentally screaming in my head. Mom she' doing foundation. I'm doing STPM. It's different.It's so.much.more.harder. Mom I'm not useless. Mom I'm not dumb. Mom I got King's scouts. Mom I can converse in english. Mom I hold high posts in clubs. Mom I join competitions. Mom I don't go out and idle around. Mom I don't do drugs. Mom I behave. Mom, I do stuff. I do things other than sleeping too. I volunteer. I go for scouts. I teach children. My nasty hobby is reading. I may be a closed off introvert at home but I'm not like that outside. No one bothered to ask, No one bothered to listen. Competitions and awards were a waste of time. That's why I never told anyone even if I achieved something or signed up for something in school. Of course in the end it all comes down to me. It's my fault for being introverted when no one listens.It's..

   Of course some parts of the mental screaming were irrational and totally immature. But hey, we all have our days. Sure it crippled my confidence and self esteem, but I suppose it was for the better after all. I was a tad bit grateful for the cold hard facts for it served me well after an emotional roller coaster though it did sting a bit too hard. Suppose that's the way things work in my family. Encouragement and trust given in non-verbal forms. Despite scoring badly for exams and me losing hope in actually excelling in anything related to science, I have my older sister asking me not to give up on the sciences because it was a waste. Arts could never go to the sciences. Why arts when you can do science? 

     I realised I was the official nerd of the family. The go-to person regarding any spell checks and science terms and theories. The nerd of the family not doing anything nerdy would be an utterly ridiculous thing. Bloody hell I don't give a damn if it's a waste. I like it but I don't like it enough to do it every single god damned day of my life and sucking at it. Talk about following your passion. Bullshit. The market demands this demands that. Why do I need to follow the markets demands on manpower?  The market changes. It bloody hell CHANGES. Why can't I learn stuff I actually like? Nerd of the family cannot do business course theres so many people doing it. YES THERE'S 7 BILLION HUMANS OUT THERE DOING THE SAME COURSE. BREATHING THE SAME AIR. Its inevitable. Nerd of the family not taken seriously when explaining stuff because I'm being too nerdy to listen to. 

   Do excuse the vulgar choice of words. Mind you, this is the only place the nerd of the family vents out without much logic and sense. Of course in reality I don't make much sense as well. Constantly overwhelmed. Did I mention that I think maybe someone accidentally injected me with loads of serotonin and cortisol.