#1
"What time does this class end? Oh, eleven. Next number, eleven!"
My teacher announced the third supposedly-random number for a lucky draw he held for the participants of his study. Sort of a compensation. And oh my, I was the third lucky winner of a book voucher worth ten ringgit! Excuse my sarcasm.
I was happy, nonetheless.
#2
"Good book."
I was queuing up when the woman in front of me turned around, peeked at the cover of the book I was holding and pronounced it as "good". Complete with the necessary facial expressions.
Startled, I offered a tentative "yeah?"
"Oh have you watched the movie?" She pursued.
"Yeah. That's why I ..." I replied and added a smile. Satisfied, she left me alone.
All the more reason to read the book.
Sunday, 25 November 2012
One More Month!
Last pieces of assignments were handed in, now with quizzes and finals left. Already the holiday mood is settling in for me.
One month to Christmas! :D
One month to Christmas! :D
Sunday, 4 November 2012
Just A Guideline
P #1: You have a different way of thinking. Radically different. When people listen to your ideas, they would react, "eh, we never thought of this!" Most of the time, when authority figures like your teachers ask you to do something, you'll still do it, no problem, but in an unexpected, different way. You're probably good in leadership, because of your thinking. However, sometimes you feel that your ideas cannot be expressed through words. Like they're stuck inside you. When people tell you things, you'll listen but you won't necessarily accept them. Oh yeah, and you're sensitive as well. People don't mean something, but you can pick it up.
Mum: Yes, sometimes he's like that. I noticed as well.
Thanks mum for confirming the bias. To continue (this time the other promoter joined in):
P #2: I had an uncle who had not one, but two inverted loops. Since I was a kid, I found him an oddball. There was once when somebody told him that he couldn't do something. He proved them wrong. He did it. Stunned everybody. If you can harness your potential, I tell you, you can make good use of it in the future.
Me: On what basis you predict such things?
P #2: Oh, we are an established company. Been doing this for five years already. You can trust us. At first I don't believe about all these too. I was skeptical, like you. When my daughter graduated from high school, she couldn't decide on what to do. She had some problems, so I brought her to a psychiatrist. The psychiatrist prescribed some medications for her and said, "eat them and you'll be alright". It had minimal effect. I never believed in those drugs. So I did some research and found this alternative way. Dermatoglyphics. I sent my daughter to be tested and apparently she had an aptitude for finance and marketing. She did a degree on those. Four years and look, she's all successful now.
Too bad you met a pretty lousy psychiatrist. You should see a psychologist instead. Or a career guidance counselor. Come to my uni, maybe? Nice story, but my question went unanswered. Again:
Me: How accurate can this test be?
The promoters went on and on with stories about other clients, but they just couldn't answer my questions right away. I guess what they were trying to tell me is this: they've been around for some time and have gathered enough data to notch up their accuracy percentage and credibility. See? I can explain better than them. QED.
The promoters tried to secure me as their newest client, offering me a "promotional price which ends after today". I let slip that I have two younger sisters, so they turned to my mum, "if your daughters want to test as well, we can offer you a package ..." Blah, blah, blah.
My mum replied, "let my son decide. If he gives the OK, I have no problem." I could see that she wanted me to do, but at the same time she still wanted to respect my decision. Enough, mum, you've spent too much today. Let me help you with your budget.
One of my mum's acquaintance cut in, "But he didn't agree also!"
P #1 cleverly answered, "he didn't say no."
Enough is enough, I rebuffed, "I don't want this."
P #2 said, "Why not? Even the blah-blah-blah also did it, why not you? Why not muster some courage and do this? Just once in your lifetime?"
"We can go to your house and do it for your daughters, by the way," P #2 changed tactics and told my mum. "You know, when you understand what's behind your fingerprints, you'll be at peace. You'll know how to chart your path. It's a guideline you can use."
In the end, after my mum and I discussed privately, we declined the offer, throwing in excuses like thinking it over lunch. The three ladies thanked them before leaving, but I had no time for manners. Straightaway exited without so much as a thank you or a backwards glance. I was so mad that I couldn't say anything.
Come to think of it, I can't really dismiss dermatoglyphics like most people laugh off Freud's theories. Yes, genes do play a part in personality, if you want to have this nature-nuture debate. Genes are inborn, yes, we can't see them unless they're expressed outwardly, like fingerprints. That much I agree with the promoters.
To say with such conviction that our traits are purely biologically determined, no, I can't accept it. Environments also have their influence, so you mustn't take them out of the equation! I have that set of fingerprints, then I also have that set of characteristics? Too deterministic for me.
Analysis of fingerprints as a guideline? True, but after knowing what's what, you'll be obsessively worrying. I don't know. I know I will, because the more I know, the more uncomfortable I become. Guide you, yes, but to where? And why need a guideline in the first place? Life is so much more fun if you just explore it. Live it. You'll stumble, arrive at dead ends, backtrack and everything, but you accumulate experiences to enrich your life. Waste time at dead ends? That's the price you pay, like tuition fee.
Maybe before I left the promoters I should use their own words back at them: "You can tell me things; I can listen but I'm not obligated to accept."
Suddenly Sandé's song, Read All About It (Part III) came to my mind and made perfect sense, especially the front part. My eyes were pricked by unbidden tears, but I quietly blinked them away. To let them fall would mean that I give in and they win.
Suddenly Sandé's song, Read All About It (Part III) came to my mind and made perfect sense, especially the front part. My eyes were pricked by unbidden tears, but I quietly blinked them away. To let them fall would mean that I give in and they win.
A day wasted for this? Urgh! I'll try to get over this episode before I sleep tonight. No meaning dwelling in this negativity.
FIN.
Inverted Loop
THE three ladies gave off a weird vibe when I found them at a corner booth in the centre. There were two professionally dressed women at the booth. Let's call them promoters (P). The three ladies indicated that I should take the vacant seat next to P #1. Mistake #6.
P #1 briefly marched me through fingerprints, genetics, personality and deviant behaviour. One of my mum's acquaintances looked at me intently, which I found uncomfortable. With my guard up and red alert on, I listened with half-interest. The following is a rough flow of our conversation:
P #1: What do you know about fingerprints?
Me: The basics, nothing much.
P #1: Do they change, or are they fixed?
Me: Hmmn. Largely they do not change, like about 90% of the time. Even if you have an accident, your fingerprints will still be the same.
P #1: So you're saying that they do not change at all?
Me: Maybe a little. I'm not sure. Your fingerprint before and after the accident should generally be the same. Maybe some part of it got lost?
P #1: Then do they have to scan fingerprints again, like for identity card (IC), if they have accident?
Me: I don't think you need that. Your fingerprints will be the same. The general features are still there.
P #1: Actually, fingerprints do not change at all. You said that we see fingerprints generally. No such thing. Everyone can be a criminal if you say that fingerprints can change and we see fingerprints generally. You'll need to re-scan your fingerprints for your IC.
I was absolutely, royally pissed off with her questions. How could she catch people like that? Playing tricks with the details. She didn't understand me at all and never bothered to clarify with me. Okay, maybe I don't like to be proven wrong, but still.
She made a movement, as if to grab my thumb to scan it with a handheld scanner. Oh no, you don't!
Me: Let me get this straight. If I scan, will you use the thumbprints for ...
Mum's acquaintance: Why ask so many questions?
P #1: No, it's fine. It'll have a bearing later.
Me: So, will you save it? The scans?
P #1: No we don't do that. We don't even take our client's IC or anything.
Satisfied, I let her scan my thumbs and index fingers. Mistake #7. They actually matched most of my mum's, in terms of whorls and their directions.
P #1: Hmmn, interesting. You have an inverted loop.
Me: What is that?
P #1: See here (points to laptop screen). Your whorls, they flow the other way 'round.
Me: Which means?
P #1: You're unique. Let me link this to personalities. You can have lots of friends, but those who are close to you? They're few.
By this time, the three ladies were sitting closely like three birds on a tree branch and listening like nobody's business. Unique? You can say that everyone's unique. Fingerprints and personalities? Sorry, I need so much more evidence than these!
(To be continued. See Part Four.)
How's Your Drink?
(From previous. See Part One.)
HAD a steaming cup of hot chocolate just before noon. With whipped cream, this time. Pleasure #2. A barista asked for my name and chatted with me in a friendly, offhanded manner. Lighted up my day instantly. Pleasure #3.
Went to get some napkins from my barista. He asked, "How's your drink?" I took that as "House drink?" Only on the third time I got him, so I smiled and replied, "I haven't tried yet."
With the stupid smile still lingering on my face, I took a seat, pulled out my books and studiously perused them. Actually my plan for today was to do transcription. In English, that means that I still have two recordings of interviews that I need to transform from verbal to written words. I thought of going back home after sending the three ladies to the centre, but things like petrol, parking ticket and time made me reconsider. Hence the wait at the Curve. Mistake #4.
The books I brought had really good description, explanation and analysis of human developmental theories. I like! So good that I read them properly this time, with my hot chocolate. Pleasure #4. Actually I borrowed them from my uni library to write an assignment, which is due this coming Friday. I killed it off in about one day, but the books just got me hooked.
Occasionally I looked up from my book. Laughter and whispers rose and fell gently all around me. Some people were alone, others with friends or family. There was this melancholic-looking guy with his headphones on and an opened book in his lap, staring out of the windows. Following his line of sight, I could see the rain drizzling beyond the glass walls.
After I've had enough of Vygotsky and his theories, I wandered around the bookstore once more. The biography on Queen Elizabeth II was still very tempting, but when I took it into my hands, the feeling of buying it just vanished. Ah, some other time then!
About one-forty in the afternoon, my mum finally called me. She asked whether they should come down or I go and pick them up. Feeling that I should guide them in case they couldn't see their way, we agreed to meet at the "eye centre". Mistake #5.
(To be continued. See Part Three.)
Nobody's
JUST came back from the Curve. I'm now so full of negativity.
This morning I accompanied my mum and two of her acquaintances to an "eye centre" for their check-up. Because they'd signed up for a comprehensive eye test and they wouldn't be able to drive after the test, I was asked to be their driver. I consented. Mistake #1.
I brought along some books and planned to study them somewhere. I dropped the three ladies at the eye centre, but didn't immediately leave. Mistake #2.
One of the staff there saw that I wore glasses and asked whether I wanted to do a check-up as well. I said no and turned away. She didn't leave me at that, hounding after me and handing me a form to fill up. One of my mum's acquaintances slightly pressured me to just do a free test. Seeing no harm in doing so, I accepted her advice. Mistake #3.
I went through the boring series of eye tests and intended to flee as soon as possible. A member of the staff explained to us with great patience and in detail things like cataract, laser eye surgery and other sorts of treatments. Money, money, money. My mum and another acquaintance decided to go through the comprehensive eye test, while I was persuaded to have mine done at a later date, within the next three months.
I left them waiting for their turn of comprehensive eye tests and asked mum to call me when they finished. Off I went to my refuge, the bookstore.
I browsed through the books listlessly, in the comfortable stillness and chillness. Nobody's son, nobody's brother, nobody's client, nobody's student. Free from obligations and duty, in that timeless space. Pleasure #1.
(To be continued. See Part Two.)
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