When I was in Jakarta, my littlest sister one day threw tantrums to her boyfriend because he had not replied her text messages for several hours. Or not @-replying her on Twitter. Whichever it was.

I was like, “Seriously, sis? Maybe he’s just busy doing something else?”. And my sister shot me a blank look, depicting something like “Even if he’s busy he should be able to reply me”.

Isn’t that the bane of today’s world? It’s unbearably instant (borrowing phrase from my friend Putu). Decades ago, lovers will send each other love letters and wait weeks, even months, for a reply. To even receive a reply is a lovely surprise.

Right now we have text messages, IMs, Twitter, and many other applications that claim to bring people closer together, but create attention-deficit impatient people instead. We don’t even send long e-mails anymore (except perhaps when your groupmate is acting really obnoxious. SMU joke – if you don’t get it never mind). When was the last time you sent an e-mail like a real mail? Something like how are you, how is it like at your place, what has been going on, and yadda yadda yadda. Never? I am not surprised. Too often the longest emails I received are from my aunt who just caught the e-mail forwarding virus (yes, in 2010!).

Do we not have enough time to stop and wait? Or are we expected NOT to have time? Because everything is unbearably instant…

Here’s a suggestion. You don’t even need to send a real hand-written letter via post (do people even know that postal service still exists?). Try sending long e-mails. Write to a friend. Tell him/her how you are doing, what have you been up to. Ask him/her about what he/she has been planning to do, or even about his/her quirky hobbies.

Send the e-mail.

And then wait for the reply.

Savour the time.

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For how long should I be here, I don’t know. I haven’t even bought a ticket back to Singapore. It’s like I’ve been home for so long I almost forgot how Singapore looks like.

I think I have to convince myself to just go, to just dive in, to just step out and face it.

I’ve done it before when 4 years ago I came into Singapore, without anyone, without knowing anything. I survived.

But I dunno if I want to prolong it…

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Though reluctant, I realize that to challenge myself, rather than overcoming challenges in education, is definitely my next step.

I can’t believe I cried while reading the comic.

Below is only the thumbnail of the comic (original comic is huge and long).

Please enjoy the full-sized comic at Stuart’s site : Recombinant Records

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Almost every time I sit down in a restaurant, or simply ordering food at hawker centres, the server/hawker will only ask “Yes, order?”. Sometimes there is not even a question. They will only take out their order pads, or the best one – raising their eyebrows at me. It’s as if we have a telepathy going on.

Whatever happened to “Good morning/afternoon/evening, may I take your order?”?

That's not food, by the way

Pardon me for being particular. But I come from the land of smiles and I mean that literally. Doesn’t matter if it’s a restaurant, a fast food joint, or an undignified “WarTeg” (small diners providing basic food, usually for lower class citizens), people always greet me with a smile and chirpy voice. Ok, not always, but most of the time.

Perhaps it’s the tips thing? It’s always customary to give tips to service staff in Indonesia, when it’s not a common practice here in Singapore. Already included in the bill, they say.

Small fact: I pay 21% service charge in Indonesia, and I still tip anyway. (we are all expected to)

Does tips really make the difference in service level?

Does service matter in the first place anyway?

For me it matters, a damn lot. I don’t care if the food is gourmet, if the service is bad the food will taste bland. I stopped going to MOS Burger at Novena Square because there is this super annoying auntie who doesn’t even speak when I’m ordering, or even look at me for that matter. That is despite my unrequited LOVE for MOS Burger. At the food court/hawker centre near home, I only buy sugarcane juice from 1 stall, just because the owners are nice, smiley, and always remembers me.

How about you? Does good service matter in your choice of where to eat?

Photo by remittancegirl, under Creative Commons NC-SA 2.0

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It would talk about my feelings. About my takeaways. About how I treasure the opportunities I have managed to attain. About how all my previous struggles had been worth it.

But seriously?

I actually don’t know what to feel right now. I know for sure, for years when I finish school after school, there was only joy. I couldn’t wait to move forward. I couldn’t wait to leave the past behind.

And yet now is the first time ever when there is no certainty after the finish line.

I kinda realized that it’s the last week of school really late. I just realized earlier this week that I have no exams. Only a final test this Saturday (3 April), summary and reflection paper due on Friday and Saturday, and then a short story due on next Monday (5 April), and then I’m done. Done. Finito.

I was like, really? This is it?

I suppose it’s the case with many people. You don’t really realize what you have been through until the last minutes of it. And right now I wonder whether I haven’t savoured the experience, the last days, enough.

And I still don’t know what to feel….

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And I thought, heh, isn’t it also relevant to other stuff beside singing in choir?

Maybe I, or you, or other people, depend too much on other people to change ourselves. Perhaps it’s rooted in the education system (Indonesia’s or Singapore’s at least) where we were conditioned to expect our teachers to spoon-feed us with information and knowledge (and test and exams!). We become so passive, believing that we will change once we find somebody who can help us.

But to change ourselves need the conscious effort, just like the conscious effort I took in practicing for my choir singing. The effort I took in utilizing my back muscles, positioning my voice so that it resonates, raising my eyebrows, and every single little thing to make my voice clearer.

But sometimes the bigger question lies in whether you want to do the conscious effort. Thinking of doing it and really doing it are two different things, and taking action to move from thinking to doing takes quite some time, or even bravery, for some people.

So, have you moved from thinking to doing yet?

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‘Nuff said.

I got 111 for the exam, which means I only “pass”. Without merit, without distinction, but who cares? I got through the piano hell! OMG!

Now time to play piano just because I love it.

Anyone wanna learn playing piano, btw? Contact me!

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I know it’s not a school exam or something, but let me tell you, piano exam is much much worse than school exam. Because unlike in written exam when you can try hard to access your memory, practical piano exam is a one-off, now-or-never thing. Once you slip when doing something – that’s it. That is it. From passing with distinction to passing with merit in just one slip.

A little more technical here, one thing I hated the most (because I’m no good at it – simple, right?) was the 6th apart scale. Just for you laymen, basically you have to play a scale (something like doremifasolatido-dotilasofamiredo), but your hands/fingers start on different notes (6 steps apart). And you have to play it 4 octaves up and down (simply saying, you play it 4 times continuously).

Wait, what? So difficult?

Oh, yes, apparently. Now, I understand the importance of playing scales in order to play piano well – it’s all about balancing the power and making the lines as smooth as possible (if you don’t get this, don’t worry, not important), yet I don’t understand making it compulsory to test these freaking scales on piano exam. At the end of the day, playing these scales requires more brain-teasing work instead of paying close attention to how I play my piano correctly. It’s more like they’re trying to test my brain, or muscle memory, instead of my musicality.

As per my title, it’s just like they ask you to do a spelling bee or a tongue twister and you’ll be graded for it in your English exam. It’s not how you can use English or how you can play piano anymore!

I know, I know. Maybe I’m just bitter coz I didn’t do well on my 6th apart (and my 3rd apart) scales. Whatever. I hope the examiner is nice enough not to let me repeat this hellish grade 8 exam. Ugh.

Image by myself! Press on Deviantart

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Perhaps it’s this “adult syndrome”, or perhaps more appropriately “21 syndrome”, when you feel that you have reached that stage where you should be allowed to make decisions solely by yourself without any influence by any other people.

Too many people correlate this privilege with age though. Which is age-ist. Sometimes I don’t think numbers really show how mature you really are.

Though I have thought of myself of being more mature than people my age, then again, who am I to say? I might be 20 going on 21 but I still cry like a baby whenever I miss my dad/people at home.

Furthermore, I’m a first child of the family. After +/- 20 years babying me, it must be pretty hard for my parents to adapt to the fact that I’m all grown up (or so I thought!).

And hence, I think I’m gonna enjoy this baby-ing stage a little bit more until my parents become too busy to baby me. Haha!

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If you go to a medicine school, you become a doctor.
You go to a nursing academy, you become a nurse.
Go to a teacher’s institute and you become a teacher.

And yet I go to SMU and soon enough I’ll hold Bachelor of Science in Information Systems Management degree with second major in Corporate Communications.

That’s both the wonder and the curse of it – I can apply to a really wide spectrum of jobs. With my IT(S) degree I can apply to many IT-related jobs. Or I can start in PR since I had a double major in it. Perhaps a little marketing too since I did an internship kinda related to it.

Sometimes I just wish my path was kinda narrower, and it was clearer.

But I wasn’t sure about what I wanted to do (unlike those people that voluntarily entered specific schools because they knew what they wanted to do), and I’m not even sure if I know now…

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