Turn

When the future is too muddled to see, I can't help but look back (and sometimes regress).  But I know I've gone far, and I still have fuel in the tank.

This semester has been honestly, pretty shitty.  I'm sure the preceding posts are indicative of that.  But you can't always get what you want.  All this hard work and strife will come good some day, I'm damn sure of it.

So I've had an uneventful Thanksgiving break, filled with damage control, classes and work; so I have a piling workload for the weeks to come plus finals.  I'll just have to face it.

Reiterating the wise words of the egomaniac Dr. Precival Cox of the medical sitcom Scrubs: "It doesn't get any easier; you just get better."

And I shall get better.  I would like to credit Seabird for their rendition of Sometimes, which is the reason behind this post.  At least lyrics still hold weight in this era of nonsensical bass-driven pop music.

Sometimes - Seabird 

Drop

Yep, I damn right dropped the ball.  In fact, I made it blatantly obvious, too.

Maybe I just wanted to play the villain for once, that I wanted to dip my feet in chaos and darkness, that I wanted to be branded the bad guy.

Or perhaps I just wanted to be noticed.

Yeah.  It was probably both.  

Never again, Fang.  Don't you bloody dare pull that off again.

Five Hours - Deorro

Falling

I'm still bogged down by stress and personal issues, emotionally and physically (I've been having back aches for almost a month now, not to mention significant hair loss).  Malaysian Cultural Night 2014 is officially over.  Yet I don't feel any sense of accomplishment.  

I danced my butt off, surprising many (which was great), had received good reviews from the AMSISU advisors on the play (I was the script writer), including H.E. Datuk Dr. Awang Adek Hussin, the Ambassador of Malaysia.

But it still doesn't feel right.  Perhaps it's because I wasn't acknowledged by my fellow peers, or that my name in the booklet was glaringly misspelled (Fang Hao Leong, anyone?), or that no one had taken the time to talk to me before, during or after the event (bar Yen Fei, thanks).

Because as much as I am a "renaissance man" to my professor (I'm his Teaching Assistant), Rob Hubert, I am but a forgotten man to others.  And as harsh sounding as it is, nothing I've seen thus far can disprove even a shred of this notion.

From the exclusion of the "Best MCN Committee Ever" photo by the Production Director, to the lack of respect shown towards me, and the teams of which I had worked with.  It just wasn't good enough.  Upon looking at Adli's reaction once the event had ended, it had only enforced the idea that I wasn't wallowing in self-pity; we were equally disappointed, and it didn't have to be conveyed through words.

Sometimes I wonder why the hell do I work so hard for others.  Am I really empowering others?  Heck, was there even moment of self-empowerment?  I can't say such things with confidence anymore.  

Pull My Heart Away - Jack Penate

Dip

Dipping Dots. That's the first time I've heard of that ice cream brand. I learned that over Tong Shao's memorial today. She was interning at that company, and she was going places, although I've never met her myself. Now I will never have that privilege.

Her memorial at Central Campus today was as tragic as it was beautiful; seeing so many friends, family and strangers gather for the mourning of one of our own is the utmost touching and painful thing I have witnessed in my two years here in The States.

As James Dorsett, director of ISSO said earlier today during her memorial: "A parent's only wish is that their children live past their age, but it's a shame when the old people outlive the young".

I immediately told my parents that I love them, and I'm overwhelmed by the guilt of not telling them this salient fact sooner, without any influence.

Now I sit here alone in my apartment, with a runny nose, my third bout of gut-wrenching waterworks, hoping to reach a drunken stupor. I'm sorry, but life is a damn cruel game.

Rest in peace, Tong Shao. Send Dillon Ruby my regards as well.

posted from Bloggeroid

Scrubs

Another short post to sequester (my favorite new word) the previous one.  I've liked everything about her: the poise, the wit, the panache.  I just don't love it.  Eventually, you learn to silence the loneliness by keeping yourself occupied.  It's just another coping mechanism, I suppose.

Thank you, Scrubs for teaching me more lessons about life.  I've been re-watching the series for the past three weeks now, and it was a pleasant surprise.  Behind all the slapstick humor and ridiculous, over-the-top gags, there was a deeper, underlying meaning to the show, something unnoticeable until I surpassed the 2 decade-threshold.

Also, it seems that I've grown less and less tolerant of the inefficiency of others.  Being in my Senior year has reminded me that this will be my last Fall season as a student.  I can't waste time dawdling on someone else's ineptness.  Soon, I'll experience my last snow skirmish, my last useful implementation of snow boots, and my last day as a student, and eventually my first day in the real world.  I'm getting queasy just by the thought of it... yikes!

Gonna try out the FIFA 15 Demo later today, once I regain the services of my gamepad (keyboard bindings can't be tweaked... idiots).  So far, the Ignite engine looks phenomenal versus the current-gen models.  Now, to bolt off for an early dinner before a three-hour-long committee meeting for Malaysian Cultural Night.

Oh, and happy Mid-Autumn Festival.

My Favorite Faded Fantasy - 

Damien Rice

Past

You know what?  Forget trying to be optimistic.  Forget fooling yourself into thinking that it'll work.  A partnership involves BOTH parties to come to consensus.  Ignore timing.  Ignore the outliers.  Ignore the statistics.  Ignore the compatibility. 

It all boils down to a spur of the moment, gut feeling.  And that's what despises me the most, because I am ill-equipped for spontaneity.

It's been like this for four years.  I suppose I can wait a little longer.

Trees - Twenty One Pilots

Solve

Justin and I are back to being friends again (which happened some two, three weeks back).  So yay!  It's just that one big fight that derails things momentarily.  Back to cracking one-liners and exchanging banter; it feels great to regain a friend.

Anywho, Summer's coming close to an end.  Past the drama of the Malaysian Midwest Games 2014, the adventure of the ASM Conference 2014 at Boston, the hustle and bustle of Summer classes, the trials of having hyperthyroidism, the mind-bashing task of fleshing out an original drama script single-handedly, the spectacle of which is the Iowa State Fair and the impact of being an International Orientation Leader, it's been a crazier three months than anticipated.  Life just loves to throw in that late right hook to take you off-guard.

I'll just talk about the International Orientation, which happened from Monday to Wednesday, in separate sessions.  Besides the two-day crash course of a training session under the new ISSO Orientation Coordinator, Silas Pippitt (top-class bloke, just full of humor and passion), I felt under-prepared to serve as an orientation leader.  

This was by no comparison an equivalent of the Destination Iowa State (DIS) orientation; students coming into this orientation program know the bare minimum of things, and as such we orientation leaders must know almost every detail of things to the nine.  Things like dining options, course credits, document drop-offs, how to get around campus, and all that jazz are the few of many things I get asked.

Regardless, we team leaders (21 of us) handled the tasks given with aplomb.  At least, most of us did.  There were some people who were rather unprofessional.  To be blunt, I felt like an adult stuck with a bunch of kids for peers; some were just goofing around and did not properly represent Iowa State University as an established student in The States.  Over our post-orientation debriefing, I assumed the bearer of bad news and criticized the team for lacking these attributes.  We simply weren't good enough.

If there's one thing that I can take from my recent class of Speech Communication 212 (ridiculously fun class), your body language and word choices shape your audience's perception of you as a speaker.  Words like an abrupt "follow me" or "let's go" are reserved for lap dogs, and not for a dozen-or-so group of naive, clueless incoming students, with some not having English as a proficient language.  Some team leaders yanked their team by a leash, and I felt that injustice was given.  

Thankfully, the members present during our debriefing took the advice really well and learned from it.  At least, I would like to think so.  On that note, here are some pictures of my experience of being an ISSO Orientation Leader.

Snapchatted it

My group for Day Two (College of Design and Engineering).  Great peeps

Yeah.

Majority of the team leaders

So yeah, I'll leave it there.  Wow, my knees are about to drop from the three hours of futsal.  Whooop!

Re: Stacks - Bon Iver