Speak Chinese Week.

In International Economics class today, I made a resolution.

Let's see how far I can get writing my notes in Chinese.

Now, I take every pride in my Chinese skills...or lack thereof. I'll have you know, when I was in Primary 3, I won the second prize in some school HanyuPinyin competition, and I still have the giganto gleaming silver trophy sitting pretty in my room. In fact, I take the pains to clean it once every few months, and I am proud to say that I can still see my reflection on the trophy.

Of course, the main reason why that peculiar trophy is still in my possession is because I do not exactly have any other trophies to put up. I've got only ONE other trophy, and it's considerably smaller in size...though still silver.

It was from coming in second in a three-legged race in Primary 3.

Out of all the other Primary 3 students, a big feat back in those days I tell ya!

I remember when I was younger, there was a shelf in my house where my parents lined up all the trophies or medals of us kids. My dear siblings had trophies from...tennis or essay competitions or whatnot.

In Primary 3, I decided to put up my three-legged race trophy next to all the rest.

The trophy was actually very pretty, with the KCP school crest and things like that...until you move closer and read the anticlimatic words "Silver -- Three-legged race novelty event".

I also won some Chinese handwriting competition in primary school...I'm not entirely sure why KCP was always having competitions like that, and why I ended up participating in them, but I did anyway, and I have some accolades under my belt that I suppose I should be very pleased about.

I think that's where my talent in the Chinese language stops, sad to say.

I don't think I was always horrible in Chinese. I used to like memorizing Tang Shis/Poems and pretending I was living in a cave in the Chinese mountains and I had no food and no water and all I could do was read out poems everyday to my multitude of goats and chickens and birds.

I was a strange child.

The parents did Malay in school, and they're considerably better with Malay than Chinese. The sad thing is, I can't speak Malay either! Except ungrammatical Malay taught by Minah Izzah. And I know how to say things like "tiga people!" when I go to a Malay food stall and they ask me how many people there are...yeah I have to refine my spoken Malay.

I will say that I never disliked Chinese, I just didn't have anyone to speak it to. If I spoke it to my dad, he'd try really hard but he always ends up talking about the same things because his Chinese is pretty limited. I remember asking him for the time in Chinese once and he said "Qi1 dian3 (seven o' clock)". I asked him again a while later and it was still "Qi1 dian3". If I asked him 45 minutes from then, it'll probably still be "Qi1 dian3".

My mom is considerably better, but she can't really read Chinese words. So sometimes we'd try watching Channel 8 and there'd be the emergency newsbar in Chinese on that channel and she'd always ask me to translate it...and I don't do a good job of it so I always end up telling her the wrong news and getting her all alarmed for no reason.

My dear siblings sound strange when they speak Chinese. It just sounds like they're trying to communicate with extraterrestial creatures. Half the time, we don't know what each of us are talking about, so we abandon speaking in Chinese. We'd probably be more successful with morse code.

And most of my dear good friends aren't even Chinese to begin with. In this case, English is always the best way to communicate in my life.

But you know what? I somehow ended up doing Higher Chinese in primary school, because I wanted to copy my dear sibling. It wasn't too bad because I was being tutored like three times a week in Chinese, but when I got into secondary school, it just...fell.

I never did pay attention in Chinese class. That is, to be honest, through no fault of others. Only maybe Gladys Chung. Hahahaha. We sat next to each other in class, and we did stupid things like change song lyrics into Chinese. At that time, Gladys really liked the song "Eternal Flame", so we decided to translate it into Chinese and sing it in class...

It got confiscated.

Now, I don't know what the teacher was so mad about. If she could just see my potential as a musician, or a professional translator...

And then I somehow managed an A2 for the O-levels, but was still made to do a year of Chinese in jc. Which is pretty senseless to be honest. I wouldn't have minded if there was an actual syllabus and if we did actual things in class, but the only things I seem to remember of me in Chinese class in jc is:

1) "Doing worksheets", but really playing the air guitar with Crazy Solly. Got caught by the teacher but he was too resigned to do anything about us.

2) "Doing worksheets", but really busy deciphering song lyrics with Fart.

3) "Doing worksheets", but really busy making crazy lists with Chelsea.

4) 'Doing worksheets", but really looking at the injured bird that Hsin Ching brought into class in a shoebox one day. Its beak kept poking out of the shoebox while the teacher was talking, and just to let you know it's not the easiest of things to prod a bird's beak back into a shoebox.

5) "Doing worksheets", but really busy looking at Hsin Ching, who this time, decided to bring mangoes to class. Mangoes that she had picked from the ground in our school yard. Some had worms.

6) "Doing worksheets", but really busy coming up with crazy games like the "Who will get married first in the class?" game or the "What is his/her future occupation?" game.

7) Not doing worksheets, because other than that I would have skipped the classes. Teacher actually came up to me one day and asked, "You've got lots of medical problems, eh?"

Sorry, teach.

That's why today, I decided to do something I've never done before. Write my notes in Chinese.

No easy feat, to be honest.

And to tell you the truth, I really don't understand what I've written at all.

I mean, economics is bad enough in English.

Bring on Chinese and my world gets even more complicated.

Now, based on the feedback I've gotten from some of my friends who have seen this...three-quarts of my notes make no sense :(.

And I have not cured the drawing incessantly problem I have when I am bored. That is a picture of how my eraser looks like, and the picture next to it is...I dunno, my professor was talking about some investment thing.

I also decided to write in detail what happened during our end-of-the-session discussion. The topic was "Why is forecasting exchange rates so difficult?"

I wasn't really bothering to follow in English.

Let alone Chinese.

But I got some of it down.

Joyce, who was sitting next to me, had her laptop on so we decided to check out the online translators. We decided to translate numerous quotes and important phrases into different languages, to prepare us for when we become global travellers in the future.

1) "Irrational" into Chinese and French

2) "Hi, my name is Pearlyn" into Spanish and Greek

3) "I am falling asleep in class" into Spanish, French, Korean, and Swedish

4) "Look, there's a bear!" into Korean, German, and French

As you can see, I'm already preparing for when I go on exchange sometime in the future.

Adrian Gonzalez is STILL not playing for Getafe. I've not checked to see if he's injured or what, but how can he be injured without even playing?

Then again, he's too tall for his own good, and he looks a bit clumsy sometimes. I wouldn't be surprised if he broke his toe after walking into a rocking chair.

Poor Adrian has been looking so sad lately, though he was born looking sad. But just look.

Even Esteban Granero isn't a regular starter, but he's been afflicted with injuries as far as I know. At least Jaime Gavilan is doing well in Getafe.

Speaking of Granero...

Human Granero and Dog Granero :).

Food! Bye.

Signed,

Sincerely, me

Pearlynnnnnnnnnnnnnn Granero

Shiny Soup Per June In Year.

I am amazed that no one has actually figured out what the lunatic phrase above means or entails. Fart and Maka thought it was an entirely cryptic and philosophical phrase dripping with wisdom and undertones of profound misery, but alas, i am not suicidal or remotely wise. My mind is simple and I think not of complexities. Fart and Maka, who have since discovered what it means, have since refused to acknowledge this phrase anymore. O, what bitter ladies, just because they took a thousand months to decipher it instead of a few seconds like a mere mortal would have.





Sometimes, the wisdom of life emerges right in front of you in the most simplest of ways. Think like a twisted-minded philosopher and you'll never get the phrase.





So. It's been a long time, as usual, since I have updated this thing. Have reluctantly dragged myself back to school, where I have a 4-day week and where I have no desire to spend more time in. I go to school, I physically appear in classes, I disappear. Try to do something more and I'll be shooting myself. No offense, I'm just not a school person. It's a place where like-minded people group themselves, a place where the ones in the peripheries are misjudged, and a place where I have no desire to feel a sense of belonging to. I do try to smile occasionally, there are other nice human beings around that make it pleasant at times. Mostly I enjoy sitting in a dark corner and doing something obscure, but I have realized that not many people in school are very receptive to such behaviour, judging by the looks of utter astonishment when people turn round the corner and see me doodling in some strange area. It might be odd if you don't know me, but I believe I am fairly harmless. I have benevolent thoughts almost 90% of the time anyway, so dare not be frightened when any of you chance upon me like that again.





Am doing 4.5 credits this semester, which is a bit of a drone. Well, I have decided on Political Science as my major, it's the closest thing that I'm interested in around here. Sure, if I had a choice I'd be doing European History or Cultural Studies or Archaelogy or Ancient Civilizations or Crumbling Monuments 101, but it's bad enough already having to explain to old narrow-minded relatives what Political Science means. If I even contemplated doing anything like Archaelogy which I've always been interested in as a child, I think I will be studying my own tombstone. If only I lived in a place where such things are encouraged. Well, I can still do that for fun I guess, like dig in the sand at Pasir Ris Park hoping to find some Orang Laut straw hat, but it'll be even more brilliant if I can do that as a living.





I have strange tendencies, I know. I used to think that Indiana Jones had such a cool life. Minus the whole bit about him being killed by rival archaeologists and tribal people, that I can live without. It's fascinating just sitting down wondering how humans came about and how and why different cultures evolve and how some monuments can be so timeless in nature and how some artefacts were used in olden days. It is true that people always pine for what they cannot have. And obviously I cannot travel back to the old days to see how the Stonehenge came about, so obviously I am curious about that. It's the whole mystical thing, just thinking about things you don't have the answers to is incredible. That's why I never felt anything special for anything scientific. Don't get me wrong, science is great. If it wasn't for science, i would be cowering in a cave with a campfire talking to bats.





In most cases, there are answers to science. It's either A or B. But I like the possibility of options, and grey areas. The idea that not everything is clear in black and white is something that appeals to me. A reason that I chose the subject combinations that I did in school. People say it's crazy to do the arts, it's not rewarding, it's too difficult. They're wrong. It's rewarding in its own way. There are no guaranteed and observable results, hell studying all this won't even guarantee you a proper future in this land, but there are so many things you can learn from the books we did in lit. Cultures, behaviour, empathy, history, compassion. History as a subject involves much reading, but it's worth it. If this society continues to progress in its methodological scientific narrow-minded way, we'll just end up like mindless robots who will never see things beyond the observable surface.





Before I start to creep myself out further with these thoughts, let's move on.





Adrian Gonzalez doesn't seem to be having a grand time in Getafe, why am I even surprised? This is the boy whose own father doesn't even want to look at him and treat him like a son, so I can't imagine him ever being well-treated in this lifetime. I seem to have forgotten how he looks like kicking a ball, it's been such a long time since I've seen him do that. The poor dear, he should not have quit school so hastily, what is to become of him now? All I've been seeing of him recently is fan pictures of him taken after training, him posing with various fans, lots and lots of pictures of all that in the past few weeks.





Well, if he doesn't even play, then obviously he has all the time in the world to entertain strange loitering fans outside Getafe's training grounds. I suppose that's the only reason why they even bought him in the first place. So that they can send him out to take pictures with randoms who'd leave the REAL players alone. I hope they feed him at least, Adrian is getting hungrier-looking everytime I see him, he's such a pitiful boy.





Oh right. I feel like I should talk about the classes that I'm doing this semester.





International Economics:


Econs as a whole is really something that I can do without. I mean, of course it'd be good if I can instantly understand all these things so I don't actually lose all my savings on roti prata when I grow up, but I dislike graphs more than anything and I despise all these various formulas weighing me down.





And I don't get how I should write essays for Econs. Half the time I'm drawing graphs that make no sense, and coming up with Pearlynistic theories rather than quoting Marxist theories.





The professor is really nice though, in the adorable old man way.





My notes from a typical day in Econs:

Not really sure if it can be seen, the scanned results came out pretty small (EDIT: Click on it to see the enlarged version). Ignore the "Temasek Junior College" notepad, all I have left lying around is a bunch of old school stuff left over from my time in school compounded with the dear siblings' old school things which have somehow came under my care. I'm left with the "Temasek Junior College" notepad and a tattered ACJC ZuoWen notepad, which will be very helpful when I decide to write a novel in Chinese.

And in my defense, I WAS paying attention mostly. But I tend to digress and I like to do a million things in one second. So I'm drawing and 1/4 listening...so there ARE some useful notes scribbled at the side. THERE, that's proof.

The first drawing is "Time : 1240", which is when I first thought I was going to fall off the chair in lethargy.

The second drawing is "Trading". That word was tossed around quite a bit in class. I don't know why i tend to draw men with puffed-out chests or stomachs, considering they are neither biologically able to grow out their chests or conceive a child. And I can never draw feet right, they're always pointed in strange directions, no normal person is able to stand that way without pulling a calf muscle.

The third drawing is "Country with budget surplus" and "Country with budget deficit". Well, economically I don't think I got it right, considering countries with budget surpluses aren't necessarily rich and countries with budget deficits aren't necessarily poor. But because I was bored, I decided that the man representing the country with a surplus should be a pompous businessman, while the man representing the country with a deficit should be a sad-looking little dude, who actually resembles Adrian there.

Don't know why I always draw hands sticking out like that, who stands like that?! And I don't get why I think that humans have webbed fingers.

And the sad-looking little dude...has no toes. Sigh.

The fourth drawing is "Neoliberal economist" and "Young Karl Marx". I'm not a fan of neoliberal economics, I find it too rigid and with a lack of regard for politics, so I'm trying to draw a stuffy old messy-looking scholarly man who thinks he's right all the time. I don't know why Karl Marx is drawn like that, and I'm not sure if he even looked like that, but I think most great thinkers of that century had no hair on top and hair growing out of their ears, with subsequent hair enveloping a sinister mouth lurking beneath.

This was after the break, and I told myself to listen instead of move away to Pearlyn Dimension again, but I disobeyed myself and started drawing again. I tend to tune out when I'm not interested in things, apologies to all.

The first drawing is "Country house with hedges". Well, my professor was talking about...hedge funds? Finance is really not my cup of tea, so when he said that I started thinking about a beautiful cottage surrounded by luscious hedges. However, I was not feeling very inspired then so I decided to draw not-so-luscious hedges and a decrepit-looking house with two random seagulls. Well all right, it's how I imagine the house in "The King of the Castle" to look like, though if I really wanted to I would have made it more foreboding.

The second drawing is "Market". My professor was having a field day, talking about...free markets? Well I was thinking of food because I didn't have any during the break, so I thought drawing some raw-looking vegetables and malicious-looking fishes would help me snap out of it, and before long I started to draw an entire market stall.

Don't know why the seller's arms turned out so hairy, I was going to draw just a few specks of arm hair, but suddenly it's all over his body.

And for the last time, he's not crying. It's SWEAT.

The third drawing is "Herd Mentality" and "Outcast". I think my professor was talking about the herd mentality in investments and things like that, and generally I hate anything to do with herds, so I made sure to draw a sad but brave outcast. Every society has an outcast and we must not leave them out.

Oh dear, the little girl at the far corner has no neck. I have to improve on the drawing of essential body parts.

I don't know why I coloured "MAS" there, which looks quite ominous to me. But I think it stands for the Monetary Authority of Singapore, which my professor kept referring to.

Research Methods for the Social Sciences:

I would like to reiterate that me not liking a course has nothing to do with the professor whatsoever. I have very clear interests and anything that I'm being forced to do will be done, but very reluctantly.

So I'm a reluctant member of RMSS class.

I can't ever imagine myself doing anything like that in the future. I'm curious about things, but I'm too lazy to specially create experiments to test out my thoughts. Besides, the time taken to verify these results would just kill my curiosity eventually.

International Political Economy:

Interesting class. A bit dry at times when it comes down to economic theories but at least it's nothing crazy like actual economics. Lots of international students in the class, they tend to travel in gaggles, but I like the class nonetheless, it's the least stressful one and the professor is a bit spacey and I like that sort.

Development, Underdevelopment and Poverty:

Heavy.

The group project confused me to the point that I DREAMT about it. Do not wish to relive that. Nevertheless, we got thru it with time, and it was amusing mostly because we (including the professor) were SO UNSURE about what we were doing so we were just confused together, right up to presentation day.

But heavy.

Enough about school. On another note, Maka went back to Liverpool, which makes things a bit quieter around here. No more satanic laughter, no more whining, no more BLING. Come back soon, please.

What is Fart sighing about now, have to go respond to her now. Goodbye earthlings!

Signed,

Sincerely, me

Pearlyn