Let me first say that I don't enjoy writing depressing entries. Yes, yes, Mr Stress Personified notwithstanding.
But really, dear God, I'm about to break down. I feel defeated academically, and it's draining me, mentally, emotionally, and heck, even physically. Nobody seems to get me, too. I'm just sort of here, in a totally different wavelength from everyone else, and it gets lonely. Sure there are people who genuinely care for me and want to be in sync with me (more people than I think I deserve too, thank you), but I dunno, maybe I'm too off, too unpredictable and wayward for anyone. Maybe I like to feel lonely and miserable, and I'm secretly enjoying being in the dumps. Yes, yes, a real possibility. Oh, and I'm Mr Butt of All Jokes of late, and it's the sort of thing that one likes to ride along with, but subconsciously it eats at you slowly.
There's this thing I do that indicates when my stress level peaks. I did it last night, and I did it earlier this afternoon. It's not a fun thing, it's not even intentional -- it just happens. If it's any consolation, I feel better afterwards.
I've been thinking of something deliberate I should do when my stress level peaks, like right now. I never got around doing it, and I think ultimately it would do me a world of good.
Dear God help me get through the next four days,and help me hurdle two more exams. And then help me with my HYP.
And so goes another post that's not for Multiply.
Two weeks notice
Two weeks since my last post, two weeks (less actually) before my final exams, and I'm going back home to the Philippines two weeks after that. As much as I'd love to count in two-week lengths so that it would be only two time steps more before I land in Davao City and feel the Davao lovin' that I sorely miss (last I've been there was last January still!), I can't quite be too excited as that would mean the big Exams are just one step away. They're just there, really, nearby, hiding behind a tree or something, patiently waiting for time to pass before they pounce on me. I should be doing the pouncing, really, so that's why I'm (supposed to be) prepping my guns for that inevitable encounter.
* * *
Dork stuff first. I was looking at my previous entry and realized that from the side, it resembles something that, as a Statistics major, I should instantly recognize:
It's a histogram!
With Cecilia for lunch at Science today was her angmoh (Singlish for Caucasian) classmate, Charles. Cool, the first Luxembourger I've met my entire life.:) And yes, he confirmed it's Luxembourger, aware of the chuckles the name might elicit. Pleasant guy, and at one point, the three of us talked about Christmas trees. In Luxembourg, the concept of plastic Christmas trees is alien to them; they buy real trees instead. I asked what they do with them afterwards, and Charles said they throw them away. Haha, at least that's an advantage of our plastic Christmas tree. It was funny because I was sharing with them how for a few years, we would actually have a nice real live tree in our home in Davao -- 'live' in the sense that it was cut from a live tree, and not made of plastic and boxed for sale in department stores -- which my Dad would cut from some place in the countryside. These 'live' Christmas trees were rather uncommon in the Philippines, and Cecilia then said that actually, in the Philippines, the real Christmas tree is the plastic one. This must've seemed strange to Charles and his live Christmas trees, and well, odd to both me and Cecilia too -- we've been too caught up with the plastic tree tradition, that the essentially fake is now considered the real thing.
Over the past few weeks, things have been rather busy, and effectively I've screwed up my biological clock. I've been going to the statistics lab to program, study or do programming (or typesetting) work with Gelo (and sometimes Brian too), until the wee hours of the morning, sometimes until 2am, sometimes until 6am. I grab my coffee and pau in the morning to perk me up for my morning classes, sleep in the afternoon if I don't have my part-time work, have dinner, sleep again if I missed my afternoon nap, and work late-nights/early-mornings again at the lab with nocturnal mugger Gelo.
The results have been both good and bad, I think. For one, I get to be productive to a degree, and it's been helpful discussing with Gelo on my financial and mathematical stuff for my Honours Year Project (he's doing a module on applications of physics in finance), and he's been helping me with my LaTeX, the typesetting program I need to write my HYP. I've been doing some programming for my Nonparametric Statistics project too, and after an earlier first presentation that absolutely bombed (yes it's the one where at the end of the Powerpoint, Joseph asks 'Are there any questions?' and virtually all the hands shoot up to ask, one comment being 'I don't see the direction or objective of your project'), I was bent on acing this final presentation of a project that comprises 40%(!!) of our grade.
In a recent episode of DH (Season 4), Susan was taking rather extreme measures to make a good impression on the new neighbors (who happened to be a gay couple) who just moved in on Wisteria Lane. Her husband Mike, finding her attempts ridiculous, asked her, 'Why do you need to make everyone like you?' or something to that effect. I was watching it with Gelo, and we both rolled our eyes. It did seem a bit desperate.
But actually, come to think of it, I may be suffering from the same thing. A milder case, definitely. Well, OK, maybe it's not the same thing. (ahh yes Joseph is a story of contradictions, if you haven't realized that by now) It's just that I want to be friends (or at least in good terms) with everyone, and I don't ever want to cut people off (I did so before and it wasn't much fun), nor be on the receiving end of it. And to be cut off, without knowing a sufficient reason why or how one deserved it, is just plain sad. 'So sad!' as Singaporeans like to say.
A lot of things happen in the past two weeks, and no, don't worry, I won't be rattling off what happened in that time -- partly because I don't remember; it's all a blur now -- because the things that concern me more, really, are the goings-on in my head.
Yes, sir, I think Joseph has gone slightly mental. And of course, his ever-reliable I'm-high-on-coffee excuse again comes in handy. (Unrelated note: Yes, some blog entries are cross-posted on both Multiply and Blogspot)
It's a histogram!
I'm a statistics major after all. Hah.
-dork session ends now-
* * * -dork session ends now-
Cecilia over lunch today mentioned that I don't like my major, in response to my comment that I don't particularly score excellently in Statistics. I refused to accept that statement, qualifying that, I actually don't love it, or OK, I don't like it too much, but I like it fairly well. I'm not sure I should even be thinking these thoughts, considering I'm one of the few who are doing Honours in Statistics, a small bunch now because it requires a qualifying grade, and most other Stats majors prefer the three-year basic degree, but that's that. Another friend from Choir, Xuefang, has mentioned to me, in two separate occasions, that I should be an English major.
Hmm. I don't know. Maybe I don't like my major. Maybe it's too difficult, especially my current load of Level 4000 modules. Maybe the fact that I score way better in my language and literature modules with half the effort I put into my stats and math modules ought to tell me something, as well as the fact that I enjoy arts modules are more enjoyable than science modules. Hmmm. In July 2008, I'll be graduating with an B.Sc. (Honours) degree in Statistics, and minors in English and Financial Mathematics. Sounds good to me. Not 'honours' with flying colors (God knows I tried my bestest), but that's honours just the same. There's the English minor there, too, so that can't be bad. Oh Jose, spreading self too thin again. Jack of all trades, master of none eh? Nah, let's just say I'm multi-talented. Lol.
* * *With Cecilia for lunch at Science today was her angmoh (Singlish for Caucasian) classmate, Charles. Cool, the first Luxembourger I've met my entire life.:) And yes, he confirmed it's Luxembourger, aware of the chuckles the name might elicit. Pleasant guy, and at one point, the three of us talked about Christmas trees. In Luxembourg, the concept of plastic Christmas trees is alien to them; they buy real trees instead. I asked what they do with them afterwards, and Charles said they throw them away. Haha, at least that's an advantage of our plastic Christmas tree. It was funny because I was sharing with them how for a few years, we would actually have a nice real live tree in our home in Davao -- 'live' in the sense that it was cut from a live tree, and not made of plastic and boxed for sale in department stores -- which my Dad would cut from some place in the countryside. These 'live' Christmas trees were rather uncommon in the Philippines, and Cecilia then said that actually, in the Philippines, the real Christmas tree is the plastic one. This must've seemed strange to Charles and his live Christmas trees, and well, odd to both me and Cecilia too -- we've been too caught up with the plastic tree tradition, that the essentially fake is now considered the real thing.
In our house, now we have the plastic tree again, the relatively-modern fiber-optic kind whose tips light up and change colours when the tree is plugged. It's pretty, and it eliminates the need for a separate set of Christmas lights. Good stuff, can't wait to see it when I get back home.
* * *
* * *
The results have been both good and bad, I think. For one, I get to be productive to a degree, and it's been helpful discussing with Gelo on my financial and mathematical stuff for my Honours Year Project (he's doing a module on applications of physics in finance), and he's been helping me with my LaTeX, the typesetting program I need to write my HYP. I've been doing some programming for my Nonparametric Statistics project too, and after an earlier first presentation that absolutely bombed (yes it's the one where at the end of the Powerpoint, Joseph asks 'Are there any questions?' and virtually all the hands shoot up to ask, one comment being 'I don't see the direction or objective of your project'), I was bent on acing this final presentation of a project that comprises 40%(!!) of our grade.
And we did.
Or so I felt. So did my groupmates. One of my groupmates said she thought ours was the best of all the presentations, and, objectively speaking, I'd have to agree. We took pains to explain the flaws of our graphs, and derived a subset of the original dataset, and ultimately fitted reasonable parametric and nonparametric models to model the relationship between volume of strikes in a set of countries and inflation rate. And well, I used my anal-ness in English and editing to meticulously tidy up the slides and the report. Compared with the rest, I say that ours was a step ahead because we were able to conclusive find these models to explain the relationship of the variables, while the other groups had minimally- or non-conclusive final results. It's not that I'm being arrogant or anything, it's just that it feels good to redeem ourselves after the disaster that was Presentation #1, and considering our hard work, the hours in the lab, and the eyebags and zits I earned (which continue to hang around until now) as a result. The downside of this erratic lifestyle, however, is that I'm sleepy and lethargic. And when I get my dose of coffee, let's just say I'm not far off from erratic either. And I don't know, there's still no rhythm la, I've been waiting for the mugging feeling to come so I can study intensely in a consistent and systematic manner, that will have me covering all the material in time. In two weeks.
Or so I felt. So did my groupmates. One of my groupmates said she thought ours was the best of all the presentations, and, objectively speaking, I'd have to agree. We took pains to explain the flaws of our graphs, and derived a subset of the original dataset, and ultimately fitted reasonable parametric and nonparametric models to model the relationship between volume of strikes in a set of countries and inflation rate. And well, I used my anal-ness in English and editing to meticulously tidy up the slides and the report. Compared with the rest, I say that ours was a step ahead because we were able to conclusive find these models to explain the relationship of the variables, while the other groups had minimally- or non-conclusive final results. It's not that I'm being arrogant or anything, it's just that it feels good to redeem ourselves after the disaster that was Presentation #1, and considering our hard work, the hours in the lab, and the eyebags and zits I earned (which continue to hang around until now) as a result. The downside of this erratic lifestyle, however, is that I'm sleepy and lethargic. And when I get my dose of coffee, let's just say I'm not far off from erratic either. And I don't know, there's still no rhythm la, I've been waiting for the mugging feeling to come so I can study intensely in a consistent and systematic manner, that will have me covering all the material in time. In two weeks.* * *
In slightly unrelated news, I'm still Mr Stress Personified. It's not a title I like at all, but it's just the way it is, that's how people see me. I'm not sure if I should be pleased that people are amused by it, because hey, at least they're not avoiding me and I'm thankfully not spreading the stress around, but still... not very fun. Why do I care again what people think about me? I wonder myself.
In a recent episode of DH (Season 4), Susan was taking rather extreme measures to make a good impression on the new neighbors (who happened to be a gay couple) who just moved in on Wisteria Lane. Her husband Mike, finding her attempts ridiculous, asked her, 'Why do you need to make everyone like you?' or something to that effect. I was watching it with Gelo, and we both rolled our eyes. It did seem a bit desperate.
But actually, come to think of it, I may be suffering from the same thing. A milder case, definitely. Well, OK, maybe it's not the same thing. (ahh yes Joseph is a story of contradictions, if you haven't realized that by now) It's just that I want to be friends (or at least in good terms) with everyone, and I don't ever want to cut people off (I did so before and it wasn't much fun), nor be on the receiving end of it. And to be cut off, without knowing a sufficient reason why or how one deserved it, is just plain sad. 'So sad!' as Singaporeans like to say.
Then again, cutting-off is sometimes just the way to go. 'So sad!' yes, but we just have to face facts, and accept the things we can't change. Still I say we let the reconciliatory offer remain on the table, keep it there despite its necessitating a good gulp of one's pride, and let the other party pick it up if he or she so wishes.
But don't walk the offer like a salesman if the response is muted, and ultimately keep some dignity for yourself.
* * *
OK time to get mugging baby. ST3235 Statistical Quality Control is just waiting for me to dive right in. Till the next (overdue) (whiney) (angsty)(does-anything-fun-ever-happen) blog entry!
