Shallowness is the key to pleasantness

I think I'm becoming shallower and shallower each day. Nowadays, I'm occupied with things such as whether I'll be able to afford that Canon digital camera next month or whether I need lip glosses in more colours to add variety to my life. I think about bags, shoes, makeup. I watch bitchy reality shows such as The Apprentice 3 and America's Next Top Model (Nope) 2.

Being shallow makes things more pleasant not just for myself, but for others too. Friends and family find me more tolerable now. Most teenagers like to be angsty and philosophical. They sulk and scowl and refuse to belittle themselves by responding to your questions or acknowledging the fact that you are talking to them! And what excuses are offered for their behaviour? They are "confused" and "trying to find their directions in the adult world" etc.

I know because I went through that phase too. You keep thinking to yourself that here I am, pondering about life's deep questions such as what is the purpose of life and how I fit in the scheme of things, and all my parents do is to bug me about helping out with household chores. Probably you look down on most people too, as they don't seem as concerned, or as contemplative as you are. I think this adolescent brand of philosophy is more of self-centredness, the "I, I, I" philosophy. I have done that before, and was a bit tired of it, as no matter how much time I spend mulling over it, I still don't know the answers. Better go out there and experience it instead. Action over thought. Thought can be paralysing sometimes.

Anyway, shallow people aren't half as unpleasant as people who like to foist "deep" and "difficult" conversations on you. Talk that just goes in a circular pattern, and then you find that at the end of it you are still confounded. Well, whatever.

Don't come here for wisdom or level-headedness

I've spent so much time editing the paper of this junior academic and I'm still not done! When will I be rid of his paper, the twit? And this is a Saturday night! I got so mad that I just finished a bag of Twisties in under half an hour. My sister was amazed, and then pointed to the 2 twisties that were still stuck on my T-shirt.

His references are a mess, he has 3 pages of endnotes and he doesn't write well!

Was responsible for bringing this foreign visitor around. He seems kind of abrupt, and even impolite. He handed me his camera without a word, expecting me to take a photograph of him. When I've taken it, he took it back again without saying even a word of thanks. This is just 1 example of his repulsive behaviour. What a little asshole. Go back to your country!

I need to destress. Somebody, pay for my spa visit, please!

Academic life = all words no action

I have this simmering uneasiness that what I'm working on and working towards is not exactly as meaningful as some people made it out to be. I'm doing academic work, and perhaps I'm still an outsider and thus have not totally bought the idea that academics are doing useful, practical work.

The most important thing seems to be the churning out of papers. Research papers, journal papers, conference papers. And for what purpose? To provide more papers that other academics can research on and cite, so that they can write more papers? The rhetoric is never about improving the system; it's always about getting published, getting recognised by your peers. How many academics are truly sincere about wanting to improve the lives of others?

CPU brain

I have a short memory. There are many things that I forget after a certain period of time. It's almost like my brain is like a CPU with a fixed amount of memory space. Old files get erased to make way for the new ones.

People like me should make scrapbooks, I think, to keep the past intact. Otherwise, it just dissipates. It's scary, if you ask me. Sometimes, when you forget things, you can ask the people who share the same history with you, but their versions will always be somewhat different.

It's actually quite silly, if you ask me. I'm a person who's a slow adjuster. I'm more comfortable with the past and present. So why am I so forgetful about the past? My memoryscape is like a flat country. No momentous mountains upset the level terrain; no harrowing troughs and canyons line the earth.

Sometimes I get jolted by things, such as autograph books, and I feel horrified--horrified that I could forget so many things unknowingly. Events, feelings, friends.

That's why I like to write, even if they seem like banal "appendices" and "field notes" of my life: How I enjoy the McDonald's breakfast every Monday morning as it takes away a bit of the Monday blues, how I had steamboat at Coca with my family yesterday and I had to go to the toilet 3 times today due to the spicy soup they served. These field notes mostly revolve around food and books.

Cheap things gladden me?

Things that makes me glad:
1) Rain (but not in the early morning, when I have to get up to go to work!)
2) Relaxation music (those that feature sounds of running water, warbling birds etc.)
3) Staying up late (while reading and munching on hot n' spicy potato chips and sipping ice coffee/green tea)
4) Bread and cakes (my comfort food)
5) Power walking while listening to my MP3 player
6) McDonald's breakfast (Sausage McMuffin and coffee)

See, all of the above are not pricy.

How I know that I'm growing older:
1) I don't have the stamina to stay up late every night and turn up chirpy the next day anymore
2) I'm nicer to my parents and siblings now
3) I make an effort to keep in touch with friends, as an acquaintence noted: "To lose a friend due to neglect is sad."
4) My metabolism rate is going south
5) I learn to be more appreciative of others' work and efforts