Objection!

To the point. I got into law school! Me! Disciple of Jessica "is this chicken or is this fish" Simpson! Yes it's ONLY NUS but it's still quite an achievement. I'm quite pleased with myself really. I would be lying if I said I wasn't. After a bout of internal wrangling and sundry bits of advice, I decided to accept that instead of Business Management and Accounting at SMU, which admittedly was terribly appealing too.

Which brings me to the next point. Does it really matter WHERE one studies? For the record, I would study in the States, if a Daddy scholarship had been offered to me, because I do think that an American degree would stand me in better stead as I climb the corporate ladder in the future. My question is this. Do people who read Econs in NUS FASS really receive an inferior education compared to those doing so in say, Stanford? In terms of internships, Stanford wins out for sure, no doubt about that. Nothing beats securing a prized internship at the HQ of some huge MNC in the States. Citibank US > Citibank Singapore no?

But when it comes down to education per se, does Stanford really confer a superior degree? Are the undergraduates there taught some special economic theories that the professors in NUS are blissfully unaware of? Do they learn how to draw graphs or form equations using magical methods that only they are privy to? Perhaps, most importantly, does Stanford produce graduates of superior character to students graduating from universities outside that ivory tower of the Ivy League? Because at the end of the day, a degree is a piece of paper. Career advancement does not rely on that alone. Your superiors have to like you. That's about it really. Whether this is due to your stellar work performance, or just plain sucking up, they have to like you, period.

As an employer, would I like a back-stabbing, sly, hypocritical, superficial, shallow, pretentious, obnoxious, ignorant, insecure, deluded Stanford graduate who behaves like some omnipresent, all-knowing super-intelligent being but is really just a pathetic, whiny, holier-than-thou loser? Someone who presumes to be a man of culture and refinement, the epitome of chic urban sophistication, but in reality doesn't know what the hell he is talking about half of the time, and comes off sounding like the uninformed twit he really is when he opens his mouth. Someone with absolutely no sense of morals, ethics, or common decency, who champions the "moral high-ground". Someone who thinks everyone loves him but is (perhaps blissfully) unaware that a majority of people find him to be nothing but an annoying irritant, like the fly buzzing about you incessantly who refuses to give you a moment's peace. Indeed, such a person would easily find employment and quick career advancement...in hell.

So you see, it really isn't about where you study. It's about how competent you are in your work and, most importantly, your goodness as a person. I'm not pretending to be better than the theoratical example above. But it's something I am striving toward. To have genuine compassion for others, to volunteer for community service because I really want to, not because it gets me CCA points or looks good on my resume. Yes yes, talk is cheap, but it really is better than doing and saying nothing at all.

-Simon-

I Don't Wanna Fight

I really don't. Really. So whatever it is that you have a problem with, just deal with it and get over yourself. You really need to. I really can't be bothered to engage in any form of skirmish with you. Just don't back me into a corner here ok? You mind your own damn business and I'll do likewise.

Anyway, it's been yet another depressingly boring week and I don't know when that is ever going to change. This weekend promises more...excitement, but in a week's time I wonder, is it really going to make any difference? Are we just put in this world to suffer and die a slow death. Knowing that we are leading ourselves to destruction, but unable (and unwilling) to steer ourselves on another course. It's a terribly fatalistic approach to life isn't it? Over the past few months, I've been striving to find some meaning to life. Something to live for. Self-nourishment, enrichment, what exactly is missing? All the books I read, the classics, the Economist, Freud, etc etc, does it really contribute ANYTHING to this life. For the past 20 years I've just been going where the wind blows, rarely making my own decisions, taking things into my own hands. And when I have placed my bets, the results haven't exactly been unqualified sucess. I yearn to reach that place, where I can truly say I've found meaning to life, purpose in living.

So until then I'm just going to continue this search. Stability isn't always so fun is it?

I Want To Kill Myself

That's how I felt after today's 800 metre run. Words cannot describe the excruciating agony I felt after that stupid 3 minutes plus plus, took me almost an hour to recover! Was actually second(!) going into the first 400 metres and then, just as I was going "Wow I can't believe I'm second", I felt the tiredness, felt the muscles cramping up. Fatigue seeped in. In a matter of seconds 3 runners overtook me and in the final 100 metres the last guy did too, resulting in a very unglamourous last place finish.

Any shame that I may have felt from such a dismal performance was negated by the various strains I felt immediately after crossing the finish line. Had to practically PULL myself up the staircase. Proceeded to experience muscle spasms and pain everywhere. Followed by nausea and the urge to just VOMIT out the barley I had unwisely (or perhaps wisely) consumed 15 minutes before the run. Urgh. Had to lie down on the bench, heart still pounding furiously, head spinning, shame was the last thing on my mind really. And I confronted my fear it on. And it DID ME IN! Haha. But I'm still alive *disappointed moaning?*, so I suppose I got the better of it in the end.

Too tired for sex.

Sunday night was decently fun. Had dinner with the boys at Fish & Co. which was great. Shared a seafood platter with Jireh. Yes it's Fish & Co. the epitome of trashy food for people with no money to eat real seafood, but you know what, I loved it. Ha!

After dinner went to MOX and Happy. The music was fantastic, for me at least. Heard this strange dance-ey remix of Live To Tell which was just plain weird but I just started jumping up and down and screaming like a small girl when I recognised Madonna. Bananarama's Look On The Floor. Fabulous. GET RIGHT and IT'S LIKE THAT! One after the other. Hot tamle! Boyfriend (always nice to hear), SINCE U BEEN GONE (which had the WHOLE dancefloor jumping whenever the chorus hit). We were screaming out the song la. I remember WR jumping around like a maniac mouthing (or singing?) to the tune. Sorry capped things off. Really good night in terms of music, very handbag and all but that's wear my preferences lie. It was a good night all in all, although I felt rather left out a lot of times. Sigh. And Jireh was VERY rude to me at the end while we were hanging around at the alley behind Happy. But apart from those two little (or not) hiccups everything was fine.

Went to Maxwell for post-party supper. Taxi home.

What else. Oh yes. Mellow. No change. Horny as hell. But too tired to act on it right now. Missed gym. Which is NOT good. Lonely. Yes. Lonely. I'm beginning to wonder, is waiting for no one really better than waiting for someone? I've gone through it before, and I have had THREE chances so far this year, more than in any other (don't laugh ok?), but Prince Charming just isn't THERE. Am I, like Meng, too picky? Just can't seem to get a break. And I'm holding on and waiting, but for how long? Is my youth going to slip away without me ever having found anyone special? Can I EVER find anyone special. Or am I going to be one of those people who immerses himself in his studies and career to conceal the fact that there's really no one out there he can love, who loves him back. I wait...