unlimited

I can't believe that in one week I'll have a driving license (bar failing the test)!
I can't believe I actually have a part time job!
I can't believe one roommate plays ultimate frisbee!
I can't believe the other thinks because I live in Malaysia I've mountains and goats and rams in my backyard!
I can't believe my uncle is getting me a Macbook!

... and I can't believe I still don't have my I-20 to apply for my visa. @#%!

Or, "the stray thread might make all the difference between two identical shirts."

After picking and choosing a shirt I liked yesterday, I had to get the whatchamacallit signed before I could bring it to the counter to pay. The saleswoman was friendly enough, and we chatted a little on how the shirt I chose had sold well and was the last one, and also how some customers could be so rude and inconsiderate when faced with a long queue of people.

A few minutes later I found some defective weaving on the back and a loose thread. Being the display item didn't do it any good. I doubted much could be done (last one, yannow), but my mom (stubborn as usual) went to check with the saleswoman. She disappeared off for a moment, and returned with an identical shirt! In conspiratorial tone she said, "Here's a shirt someone else reserved, but you take it, since you were so pleasant. I'll just tell the guy we sold out!"

And that my friends is why you must be nice to the salesperson. Now, to find out whether I can apply said technique to getting a free upgrade to first class for my plane ticket =D

I love the serendipity of finding out the year's biggest sales are exactly when I need them, right before I leave for US. For once, I actually had a somewhat productive time shopping =D. I've mentioned before I want to expand my wardrobe - and now it's actually slightly bigger. However, at risk of spending another 5 hours shopping (at KLCC, today), I have come up with a couple Theories of Clothes Shopping to aid me in the future.

First, They're All The SAME!! Not strictly true, obviously, but by and large, I've noticed that selections for clothing don't really differ much in terms of general design, if you know what kind of apparel you're after. I use two guidelines - "Looks are mostly subjective, and hence impossible to quantify," and "Satisfice, not maximize. Unless it's godawful you'll get used to it and so will others." This first theory means that you can pick any shop at random and more or less buy enough for one trip, though personally I like variety, so TP's First Law of Clothes Shopping is "One shop, one shirt", with the Departmental Store Corollary of "One brand, one shirt."

The Second Law is more of a suggestion. In laymen's terms, "When you see something you like, buy a couple." This applies particularly for things like pants and solid color shirts, or shirts that come in a few colors. Another big timesaver, this. My pants generally keep to this rule. I've got two pairs of identical pants, and hope to buy a twin for the jeans I bought today. Maybe a darker shade of blue, if they've the right size.

Mm. Besides the jeans I picked up a couple of short-sleeved shirts, and scoped out the offerings vis a vis boots. I found a great Timberland pair I really liked, though they're a little pricey (it's a little hard to justify the most expensive pair of Timberland hiking boots, as I observe from their site). There was a decent cheaper pair from the dubiously named Hi Tec brand, which I may end up getting. Seriously, Hi Tec sounds like some Cina brand you find on Petaling Street that will last all of one month. Anyway, will see which way my mom swings =). I'll still need a windbreaker, and shorts and flipflops for summer, after all. Quantity > quality for now. Impoverished, remember. Yeah.

This blog seems to be at risk of expiring. I've been meaning to post, have come up with so many half-posts, which remain firmly in the land of the imaginary. Maybe it's a kind of inertia, I dunno. I've been moderately busy lately, thanks to driving lessons, meeting up with some old friends, frisbee and such like.

Anyway, I read something about countersignalling recently. The explanation of which I shall now bore you with.

Basically there are three types of people, high, mid, and low, for any given quality, like say wealth or education or rank and so on. People want to distinguish themselves from the categories that are lower than them, to set themselves apart (to maybe get a job, or pride, or for whatever reason). They do this by signalling - for instance, a person of mid wealth might purchase a more expensive car, to show that he's richer than the low types. Or a learned person might put 'Dr.' before his name. And so on.

However, the thing about signalling is that besides it, others receive information indirectly as well. You might know a guy is rich because of the work he does, or through some of his habits. You might realise a person is smart because his speech is intelligent and he comes up with creative ideas. Thus, there is always 'noise'.

The problem for high types is that not only do they want to differentiate themselves from the low, they also want to differentiate themselves from the mid types. But if they use the same methods of signalling as the mid, they risk people confusing them for mid-types. Hence, in a counter-intuitive move, they may sometimes decide not to signal. They don't run the risk of being confused with low types because of noise, and now they differentiate themselves from the mid types as well.

Confused? Here's an excerpt from The Economist:

"Suppose that a mixture of people apply for a job. Interviewers have two sources of information about their quality: exam grades and a personal recommendation. Because these are imperfect signals, middle-ability applicants might be confused with either high-ability or low-ability types. To distinguish themselves from the dross, they boast about their grades. The high-quality people, however, know that their grades and references will distinguish them from those of low ability. By not bothering to mention their grades, they set themselves apart from the middle group as well."

Personally, it's interesting in that it might explain why I never bother to do homework and *cough* encourage people not to bother... some secret pride, perhaps. Oh well. Come Cornell, I'll be slogging like I've never slogged before. I think if I'm work hard and get lucky I'll be 'mid type' smart at best =P.

It's terribly late and I don't know why I'm still awake. The night is stiflingly hot, but I've just turned the air conditioner on, and I've got a glass of water in front of me, with a few ice cubes floating in it. Moisture condenses on the side. I think water is my favourite drink, partly because it's definitely a guiltless pleasure. You can find nothing wrong with drinking water, and it's so pure and refreshing.



I finished reading The Great Gatsby tonight, since it's required reading for this year's Cornell freshmen. If I've learnt anything about life, is that 'required' doesn't work on people 2 out of 3 times. I've no idea how to answer any of the study questions yet, anyway. Probably need to re-read it a few times.

What I did bring from the book, however, was an odd familiarity with one of the scenes. Gatsby throws these lavish parties almost every night, and people just turn up, some invited, most not. He doesn't care, he just provides the entertainment. One has to wonder, what satisfaction does he get out of it? (the narrator reveals the why of it later, but anyway.).

It made me think about a friend's birthday bash last Saturday, almost a week ago. Some of her other friends from her secondary school wanted to make it a surprise event, so we who knew her from college were roped in as well. I couldn't help but wonder (cynically, I know) whether we were just there to make the numbers. There was some conversation, but mostly there was activity. I don't think any of us spoke much to the birthday girl at all. See, she lives in this absolutely enormous house, with all sorts of little entertainments. Pool, pool table, foosball table, home theatre (in the most literal sense), and so on. Plus, it's easy to get isolated because of the size. It was easy to keep busy, I'll say.

Such... extravagance. I wonder what it's like to grow up with so much. I wonder whether filthy rich is for me. It's been an oft stated goal of mine, to get filthy rich; yet as I looked upon the house, it seemed rather hollow. Luxurious and easy on the eyes, but ultimately, it's not my particular meaning for life. I found more peace by gazing at the full moon setting on the horizon, from the third (or fourth) floor balcony.

I find joy in getting to know people that interest me (which for some reason often seem to be girls =D. psychoanalyse that as you will). I find great pleasure in deep, meaningful conversations, and am glad for every single one I've had. The problem with being wealthy, is that perhaps it's all too easy to acquire the thing-ishness of your possessions. Too easy to be viewed as the sum as your belongings because the glitter and sparkle draws eyes away from personality and character. It's hard to chat when people are busy entertaining themselves at your expense, too. Given enough time, who knows, a scrunity of character might become uncomfortable, and you draw further into your protective coccoon of gold, lost to the world.

I want to get rich. But I don't want to lose my humanity, nor my complexities. I don't want it to be a barrier between me and the world. I want to keep the simple joys of life, I want to be loved for who I am and not for my bank account, I want to be seen apart from my wealth*. Ah well. I don't know that I'll get that filthy rich for this to apply =)

Bleah. I won't win any coherency awards for this post. But my thoughts are scattered anyway, and I don't really have a point, just an amalgation of ponderings that arose. If anything, it's a question of, "What do I want to achieve?" and wondering about wealth as an end. Conclusion - don't really need to be filthy rich. Have enough cash not to worry about anything, is enough. Other things such as friends, vastly more important. Yeah.

*(Apropos of not much, I find it odd to be recognised by people I don't know, which is the essence of fame. It's happened a few times =P. Like meeting juniors from CHS at frisbee, who say they've noticed me around before, while I'm going "Ummm... you're from CHS??", and the very gratifying one occasion on the last day of the A2 trials, when I forget my student ID, and another similarly troubled person next to me in the office mentioned, "Hey! You're that guy who appeared in the papers!" Gratifying, but also a bit disquieting =P. )

In a word, woohoo! When you can take things like tree climbing, sea kayaking, jeet kune do, Filipino kali, rock climbing, caving, scuba, soccer ,bowling, dance (all sorts! even Latin-Israeli dancing if that's your thing), sailing, archery (and intro to marksmanship, too), fresh water angling, and sooo much more, you know PE will never be boring, ever again! (But no Ultimate? Mana boleh?? At least they've got a uni team, though it isn't co-ed. Boo. )

They've even got a department that's like Outward Bound, but on crack. They handle the outdoors courses, which range from usual (backpacking) to the not-so-usual (mountain biking, though it's BYOB - bring your own bike). These courses can be taken for credit, too. Oh, and they've got a rock climbing wall at Cornell. Largest indoor natural climbing wall in the country!

This sort of thing, makes me wish that I didn't have to work so hard, and had time and money (except for outdoors stuff, it's free if you take it for credit, one class a semester). to really enjoy this wealth of opportunities they offer here. So it's located in a rural place. They more than take advantage of that, at least =). You can tell they love their sports and outdoors activities at Cornell. Me, too =).

Mornings, and even early afternoons, seem to have me feeling lousy of late. Erratic bedtimes don't help, I suppose. I spent last night watching Dead Poets' Society. I won't go into details about the storyline, because there's this amazing site, antiromatic.com, that discusses the movie very thoroughly and well.

The best part of DPS, to me, is the way it explores romanticism, and realism, two ideals that I've consciously had warring in me since time immemorial. However, the film is somewhat complex to grasp, and I must admit the message didn't immediately come through. First it seemed to advocate romanticism, as the main characters fell headlong into it, guided by their new English teacher (played by the superb Robin Williams (now why did I keep thinking Rowan Atkinson?? stupidmemorylapse)).

"Romanticism emphasized the individual, the subjective, the irrational, the imaginative, the personal, the spontaneous, the emotional, the visionary, and the transcendental." - Britannica, via antiromantic

Then, the film showed the problems with romanticism, in the troubles suffered by characters as a result of such a philosophy. It seemed to be proposing that romanticism wasn't a good thing... Realism, then?

Realism's emphasis on detachment, objectivity, and accurate observation, its lucid but restrained criticism of social environment and mores, and the humane understanding that underlay its moral judgments...

The message then, is more of a balance. The site antiromantic takes its name from anti-romantic romanticist, which the author of the site made up. It's awkward, and I prefer... fully human =).

I cycled today, cycled really far and long. To those who know what I'm talking about, it was from my place to Bandar Utama, past 1U and into the neighbourhoods. Must have been close to two hours I pedalled on and on... (in retrospect, I should've started out at 6pm, not 5pm, because it was so hot -.-; )

It was kinda cathartic, though not doing at home for days on end mostly covered that base. I enjoyed myself a lot, enjoyed the mild exertion and the feel of the wind and not least of all, looking out for well-designed houses. Always a joy to behold =).

Cycling through various parks, though, made me realise how there's very little park culture in this country. Those that go to neighbourhood parks with their kids are probably the poorer lot, for reasons such as (a) it's free entertainment that doesn't involve TV or a Playstation or driving anywhere; (b) middle-class housewives tend to be a busy lot, supervising the maid and driving the kids to tuition all the time and watching soaps, etc.; while dads tend to be rather self-absorbed; and (c) local parks in general are no great shakes, either, they rank low on satisfaction, greenery, and parky stuff like that.

It's a real shame, though. Parks are where communities are made, especially if kids are involved. Little kids are naturally drawn to each other, it's a fundamental force like gravity or something. And when kids start playing with each other, the people who brought them start talking. "So which one's your kid?" and boom! Instant connection. Before you know you're going to some neighbour's tyke's party every other weekend. Plus, before long a de facto rotation comes into play - this week you take all the kids, next week I'll look after them, and all that.

Without kids, it gets a little harder, and my theory starts leaking like a sieve. Still, the potential for getting to know your neighbours is there, whereas when everyone's indoors all the time, it's nigh impossible to get to know anyone.

When I grow up... I want to live where there are great parks, and great neighbours. ttDi has the park thing covered =), but neighbours? I dunno... I suppose I don't do much to encourage much community either.

And going off on a tangent, the girl of my dreams is one who can appreciate the splendour of nature, who enjoys the languor of long lazy evening cycle. Besides being able to be a realist when it matters, of course. One who is fully human =) See, this is a problem I've had... girls tend to fall to the romantic extreme (guys too, but the expression of it is largely different). Dime a dozen, I'd say. Hard to find one who understands the value of intelligence and shows willingness to think and learn. Harder yet to find one who balances both.

See, I tend to fall in the middle of all extremes, between a dreamy floating through life kind of romanticism and the hedonistic kind; and between romanticism and realism. Explains why I get along with many different people, but not exceedingly well with any particular group.

Still... I wonder, how well do I balance the two? Hmm. I try my best, at least =).

My house seems to be my prison, of late. I've barely stepped out of the house since Saturday. I missed frisbee (special event, too, at some church gathering) and a long overdue dental appointment then. Frisbee... okay, so I woke up late. Dental appointment, some screwup on my mom's part. She makes the appointments, because while she's still doing the paying, I want to make sure she can't leave me standing awkwardly in the office with an unpaid bill. As she's done far too often, before.

Next, was my usual tennis. Alas, usual no more, since my mom cancelled the class on a permanent basis, without any reason (at least, I've not been told). It was horrible, going to the courts with high spirits, only to be told by the coach, "Your mom said after June, no more class."

And then there's today, when I missed both frisbee and the informal meeting at A&W that should be on right now. Not only did my dad refuse to take me twice, but then my mom blathered on as usual about how I never take the bus because I'm supposedly too lazy and if that's the way it is I'm better off not going to Cornell after all my uncle has been taking the bus for ages without any problems. Now, repeat that a few kazillion times, and you will begin to have an idea of how grating it is to hear. I'm just afraid to respond this time, because the thought of her revoking the Cornell decision hangs like a sword of Damocles above my head.

I feel mad. Grumpy. Misunderstood. And unappreciated. I know that such feelings are all too common and that I'm getting a little old for teen angst, but knowing doesn't help and the causes haven't changed a bit. I can't wait to get out, go to college. Can't wait to leave this all behind for good.

My hope is that I learn from all of this, and become the man and father I've always wanted and dreamed of and respected. My fear is that we cannot escape the past, that we must pay and pay dearly for the sins of our fathers (and mothers).

Would that we truly were the captain of our ship, architect of our character, and master of our destiny. Would that I could get out of the house more ><.

/endlongwhinyrant =)

Because I'm going to Cornell. Woohoo! ...

On the other hand, it might not be such a good thing. For one thing, it's a mega-expense, which means I'll be working like a squirrel in the fall, busy busy busy all the time. Will have to max out my 20 hours working allowance under the visa, and during the summers earn a truckload of cash to satisfy my mom. Fair enough, I suppose.

And then there's actually studying. Cornell, I hear, is the easiest Ivy to get in, and the hardest to stay in. I swear, if I do a dual degree (engineering and econs, maybe), my brains will ooze out into a puddly grey pool. Or maybe I just won't have a social life XP.

Bah. I really should try to avoid buyer's regret =). I'll slog it out, try to survive, and if nothing else, learn the value of time management/hard work/not biting off more than I can chew. And if I crash and burn, I suppose there's always transfer, though I hope it doesn't come to that.

Enough babbling at 2am for now, though. Sorry for the lack of posts lately, too... been kinda bogged down by the apathy of not having anything to do anymore.