Wordless Wednesday: Desperate for a taste of Raya

Sampai buat kuih makmur sendiri.

Cracking under pressure

When I first met Yoda, one of the first few things he asked me was “How do you work best?” The question sounded innocent enough so I blurted out the first thing that came to mind. “I work best under pressure”, I answered candidly, without missing a beat. Little did I know I was actually being analysed and that my responses would determine the way I was going to be supervised.  

If I had just dug a little deeper, I would have discovered that Yoda’s expertise was not limited to literacy acquisition and learning difficulties. Prior to moving to University of Canterbury, he was a lecturer in psychology who studied individual differences. Being an expert in the field, Yoda knows the different conditions under which a person can fulfil his full potential. So,  asking me questions regarding my work habits, experiences and my interests was his clever, subtle way of studying me.

Based his psychoanalysis, Yoda decided I should get the right amount of pressure in order to work well. Over the course of my study, he has given me heaps of motivation in the form of pressure. My data collection work, analysis, research drafts and presentations were mostly done UNDER PRESSURE. My proposal defense for example, was delivered 13 hours before I gave birth to Alva. And that was after I snuck out of the hospital. I work so well under pressure that it has literally become part of my life. Why, last February, I was diagnosed with hypertension stage 2. That’s the epitome of pressure don’t you think?

Until this very day, Yoda still insists on having weekly meetings so that I can continue writing my thesis on UNDER PRESSURE. I should probably tell him I don't want to work like this anymore but I figured, it’s too late now. I have 8 more months to go.

I'm having one of those weekly meetings tomorrow where I’m supposed to submit the discussion section of Chapter 5. But here I am. Writing a blog post instead. I should be writing the first paragraph but I have zero inspiration to craft an outline. Everything's so fuzzy, I don't even know where to begin. *Sigh*

Strangely enough, I don’t have an ounce of guilt and it seems my lack productivity does nothing to my conscience.  But what really bothers me is the fact that I am no longer motivated by pressure. I have less than 10 hours to get things done and yet I am not panicking. What is happening to me?

Is there another way I could work better? Or should I just take Hamm's advice and get hysterical? 

At the moment, the latter seems to be the best choice.  

"Hamm: This is the perfect time to be hysterical!!!"

 

Grocery Shopping

I hate doing grocery shopping with the kids if hubby isn’t around. Taking Alva is not too bad. But if Alden tags along, it automatically becomes a grocery-shopping nightmare.

He doesn’t want to sit on the trolley, likes to wander off and wants everything. When I ask him to hold my hand, he pulls away and says NO. When I chase him, he laughs at me and says na na na na na. Yang style bikin girigitan tu ba. When I’m not looking, he grabs stuff from the shelves and puts them in the trolley. There was one time, I found a packet of 8 AA batteries in the shopping bag. I didn't even realised he took it and I already paid for them.

Any mother who has had the joy of doing grocery with their toddlers would understand how crazy things can get at the supermarket.  It can be really frustrating cos you never get to finish your shooping. I always ended up leaving the store in a hurry cos all I wanted to do was to get home.

When my sister sent me the following short story, I immediately thought about the many shopping adventures I have had with Alden. The story really hit home cos I can totally relate to the grandfather.  

I hope you enjoy reading it as much as I did :)

THE CARING GRANDFATHER

A woman in a supermarket is following a grandfather and his badly behaved 3-year-old grandson.

It's obvious to her that he has his hands full, with the child screaming for sweets in the sweet aisle, biscuits in the biscuit aisle, and for fruit, cereal and drinks in the other aisles.

Meanwhile, granddad is working his way around, saying in a gentle controlled voice, "Easy, William, we won't be long . . . Easy, boy."

Another outburst, and she hears the granddad calmly say again "It's okay, William, just a couple more minutes and we'll be out of here. Hang in there, boy."

At the checkout, the little terror is throwing items out of the cart, and granddad says again in a controlled voice, "William, William, relax mate, don't get upset. We'll be home in five minutes; stay cool, William."

Very impressed, the woman goes outside where the grandfather is loading his groceries and the boy into the car.

She said to the elderly gentleman, "It's none of my business, but you were amazing in there. I don't know how you did it. That whole time, you kept your composure. No matter how loud and disruptive he got, you just calmly kept saying things would be okay. William is very lucky to have you as his grandpa."

"Thanks," said the grandfather, "but I'm William … The little bastard's name is Kevin."

source: unknown

Being a nomadic student

Before February 22nd, I used to have a study space at the College of Education. It was located on the fifth floor of the tower block, overlooking the college office and administration building. I loved coming in everyday because it was the only place I could focus on my work.

In addition to having a nice office, I also had a great  bunch of colleagues to work with. Every Tuesday, we'd gather at the lounge suite to catch up and talk about our work. These gatherings were therapeutic cos they gave me the consolation that I wasn't alone in this head-damaging journey.

One day, a violent earthquake struck Christchurch and caused significant damage to our campus buildings. This changed everything. The tower, where my office was located was deemed unsafe and labelled as a red zone area. Since all my data were still stuck in the room, I felt understandably suicidal.

Three weeks later, we were given access to enter the tower with a security team. We were told to retrieve important research materials and were briefed on the things to do should another earthquake strike. Since we were still having heaps of aftershocks then, we were given only 10  minutes to complete the mission.

Ready for the mission (Photo courtesy of Abdullah Nawi)

This is what I saw

A crack between two buildings (photo courtesy of Abdullah Nawi)

The post-grad lounge suite (photo courtesy of Abdullah Nawi)



My roomate's desk





My desk



My roomate Amir 

After seeing my office, I came to terms with reality. I had to find a new study space. My Dean suggested that I work at Otakaro 232. It's a  big computer lab equipped with over 20 Mac computers. At first, this seemed to be a perfect solution cos the room was not crowded. Somehow, in just a week, news about this room went viral on campus. The number of users multiplied, making the lab a not-so-condusive environment for writing.

You see, the lab was always full, so people tend to come early and sit on the same spot everyday. I always ended up sitting next to this  noisy-breather who snorted when he breathed. He didn't have a cold or anything. It's just the way he was programmed you know. Whenever he's around, my stress level went through the roof cos I couldn't concentrate on anything else.  I know what some of you are thinking. The problem is me, not him, right? But imagine this. Imagine the sound of someone whining and snorting while breathing....in and out...in and out..in and out.

Now amplify that a little. That's what I had to endure. Hearing that sound in a totally quiet roomdrives me insane. I couldn't very well ask him to stop breathing right? That would be murder. I had no choice but to move on.

Days later, I found a place called the Post-grad Hub. It's a TOTALLY QUIET ROOM catered specifically for thesis students.  I left my whiny lab partner and quickly found solace in the hub. Things were going well at first but after some time, more people came in to use the PCs. Not to write, but to  chat, check FB status and watch videos. 

One day, while I was writing a difficult Chapter 3, a group of students laughed out loud at something they saw on YouTube. Annoyed, I made the SHHHH sound to get them to shut up. They did, as I expected. I heaved a noisy sigh and continued writing. Moments later they started laughing again. I could feel the atomic bom inside me ticking.  I heaved another noisy sigh. This time longer and more dramatic.

But it didn't work. They were still HAHAHA-ing like hyenas.

That did it.

I marched to their table, pointed to the sign which said "THIS IS A QUIET ROOM!" and read it out loud. Everyone fell silent. I went back to my seat feeling all crappy inside. It totally ruined  my mood.

I soon realised that the hub wasn't such a quiet room after all. Despite having a sign that said For Thesis Students Only, all types of students came to use the space. After a month of working in the hub and shhhhh-ing ignorant pinheads, I was finally offered a temporary office space at Wairarapa.

This is what it looks like.

My research assistant

I am contented cos my new roomate, Abdullah, doesn't snort when he breathes or  make other irritating sounds that drive me insane.  My new office may not have a big desk or a printer or a lounge suite for Tuesday afternoon teas, but for the time being, it is enough. All I want is a little bit of peace and quiet.

*The moment I finished this draft, I got an email saying that I could move into a new office early September :)

The dress that made it to the altar

Blog Guest (Topic:My Wedding Dress)



When my husband and I got engaged, my mind immediately started thinking about our wedding day. The thing that excited me most was the thought of me wearing a poofy, white, princess gown often seen in wedding magazines.

About eight months after our engagement, hubby and I signed up for a bridal package which included a photo shoot, photo albums, wedding/evening gown rental etc. Getting my own wedding dress wasn't a priority cos I could only wear it once.

Three months before our big day, hubby and I went for our first fitting. I spent more than an hour trying on dresses before I  found one that I liked. It was a strapless, poofy, wedding gown that had beadings and lace embelishments on the bodice. It wasn’t exactly my dream dress but it was close to the one I envisioned in my head.

When I showed it to hubby, he said it didn't look special. I was a bit shattered. Since I wasn’t 100% happy with the dress (thanks to hubby's comment), I asked the shop assistant to bring in more dresses for me to try on. One of them caught my attention. It was an off-white, halter-neck gown which had embroidery and beadings on the bodice and hemline of the skirt. I had mixed feelings about this one but hubby and the shop assistant said it was lovely and way classier than the strapless number I tried on earlier. Well, I did like the details on the bodice and hemline but I wasn’t crazy about the neckline.

I couldn't make up my mind so I tried on a few more dresses in all sorts of styles. I kept going back to the strapless designs but none of them caught my fancy. In the end, hubby and the shop assistant managed to convince me that the halter-neck gown was the perfect choice.

I still didn't like it as much as I should but I started to agree with them. I don’t know what got into me. I guess I was tired of trying on all the wrong dresses. And so the decision was made.

That's how I ended up getting married in this gown.

I didn't find my dream wedding dress but at least I married the man of my dreams. There’s so much more to a wedding than a gorgeous dress right?

My advice to future brides: 1) When it comes to your wedding dress, always trust your own taste and listen to that little voice in your head (that's what I should've done), 2) Make up your mind on the look you want and try your best to get it 3) Look and feel as gorgeous as you are on your wedding day!