Entry Title wuuut

 It’s 2013. So much for the hype about the End of the World and New Year resolutions. I hate hearing about them. I’m quite the killjoy, I know. But it’s so darn annoying. I don’t know why I’m annoyed. Ah, please. It’s been a while since I’ve written an entry, and I start off with rants already. Silly, silly me.

So. …Gah. I can’t even bring myself to sound happy. I’m not even sure what I want to write at the moment. Hm. Another long, story-like entry it is, then.

We’ve had our (last ever) Christmas party for the class at some beach. I was very reluctant to attend. Aside from the burden of buying gifts and paying your share, I just figured I have better things to do at home. Then I realized, after spending four years with my classmates in college, I never really grew to like them. I thought I’d be able to like them somehow as time goes, but… it’s like a bad miracle. Have I developed some weird psych problem during adolescence? I’m quite curious and a little worried.

And so I did my best to look pleased in whatever they planned to do, went home, and enjoyed the company of my laptop. I thought that I would have felt less terrible if I had chosen to feign illness and stayed at home.

I received Christmas money from Father, which I truly appreciated. The money just…flew away somehow. I did the maths on my notebook on how I spent them. Seemed reasonable, but I just can’t believe I’d be able to spend all that. I feel bad because I’ve been saving money for a Wacom Tablet for drawing purposes, with one worth around $190 at my place. I’ve been wanting one from the previous Christmas, so it’s been one whole year. I should have been able to save that much. But no. I need to put my wallet on a leash.

Makes me think about finally getting a job one day. How would it feel to spend so much of the money you’ve earned for yourself? Especially of the expenditure is ill-thought of. In the least I learned something. Minute lavishness actually piles up in the long run. *sigh*

Also, I promised my little sister that I would buy her an R4i for her DS. It allows you to put games in a memory card so you don’t need to buy expensive cartridges anymore. I didn’t have the money, so I lent her mine around Christmas time when I found her bored on the living room. I purposely put games that I want her to play. I knew her style…some weird pick-me-up casual games and other cheap stuff. I know it’s wrong to impose, but I was doing it discreetly. So I’ve put games like DragonQuest, FF, Professor Layton, Ace Attorney, Pokemon, etc. The fun (and admittedly famous) stuff.

I also mixed in things she liked, like Shrek, Winx, and whatever to make it less obvious. Sure, those were the first things she played with. Then she moved on. I successfully made her realize how boring they are. Now she’s been curled up on the sofa for the entirety of the vacation playing Professor Layton. Even though we rarely talk (rarely rarely), I knew from the music. I was happy. Makes me think; why do I never talk to her? We never bond, I never hugged her, don’t know the name of her friends, nothing. … Alright, this sounds too depressing.

And Christmas. Around that time I was a wreck. Mother was proud of salvaging an old refrigerator steel shelf that she wanted to use for grilling. I warned her not to use it for possible heavy metal poisoning. She didn’t respond. Hours before Christmas Eve, I discovered that she used it. For some time I stared at the wonderful barbeque she made. I reviewed in my mind the symptoms of poisoning just in case. I really wanted to flick the plate of food out. I was angry with myself. I didn’t blame anything on Mother.

So, on that night, I stepped outside of the house, something I’ve not done for days. I was probably on the verge of snapping. Then came along a lone kid with a tambourine, caroling. I did not get a look on his face. I hated too many things at once, somehow I figured I didn’t want to remember how he looked like after I slammed the door and locked it after going in without a word. Mother was surprised; she’s never seen me do something socially wrong. I went straight to my room, lit solely by my laptop. I was probably watching House MD. Makes me think (again), House MD probably did something to my personality. After a while, I decided to eat the food she prepared. It was my way of apologizing. I ate a lot of barbeque and told Mother it was great. I made sure I was the one who’d exhibit symptoms in case the food was actually contaminated. After all, if not for my debt to my parents, I would have chosen to, well, not live.

Related to this topic, we were required to make a career portfolio. It asks you on what you plan to do for the years ahead. I’ve been considering going to Med school, but I was afraid that Father would not be able to afford it. He is kind of old, employed in a job that has nothing to do with his specialty. Despite that, I did a little research on Med schools accessible to me. I found a State University that offered amazingly affordable tuition fee– about half the price from my current one. They have top notchers for the national licensure exams.

I swore I was damn happy about finding this out. But then, there were requirements for admission. One is a 60th percentile National Medical Admission Test, which is like a big competition amongst graduates of BS Biology, MedTech, etc. I hold low esteem for my current course and school. My school keep bragging that they are the best in blah blah, but from what I see, they merely show their aces all the time. It’s like a facade. And with the retrenchment of the only professors I’ve ever learned to respect, I foresee the dim future of my college.

Another was that there should be a weighted average of no less than 80 per subject. I am not sure whether I’ve achieved this. Never really bothered with subject grades as long as my General grade was fine. And then I’ve read about their teaching style– PBL. Problem-Based Learning. We’ve had a few rounds of it at school. It’s very engaging. I received my best marks from this because I was one of the few whom were interested enough to participate. And from that observation, I’ve decided that I don’t like the majority of my classmates.

I dislike things too much. *another siiiiiigh*

Since I’m good with PBLs, what is the problem then?

Alright. In a PBL, you will be in a small group. From that idea alone, I hate it already. I like working by myself. A group, facilitated by an instructor/professor. Facilitated. Meaning, you and your group run the show. You’ll be given a case/ scenario with sufficient data in them, then figure out what’s wrong. So it’s like a classroom-style House MD, right? Minus the bastardness and cruelty of Gregory, perhaps.

Recalling that the requirement to be admitted is to have an NMAT score of 60th percentile or better, imagine the people you’d be with. I would barely keep up with the discussion. They’d be throwing their hypotheses here and there, and I will be dumbfounded as to why they’re agreeing without so much of an explanation.

"Oh yeah, that’s probably acute intermittent porphyria."
"No, sarcoidosis fits this much better."
"But the test results suggest–"<br />
"You incompetent fools. This is clearly Von Hippel-Lindau."

And I will be the one who will be like, 
"…………. *scratches head* Yeah, what he said."

It’s like in an MMORPG where you’re in a PlayerKilling zone and you’re a noob who just happened to pass by and got PK’d and lose all dignity. That wasn’t probably the best example for this, hm.

I’d be left behind, and before I know it, I’ll be out of Med school after one semester. It’s more shameful than not going at all.

So, for the short duration of my vacation, I’ve decided to invest my time to re-teach myself on the things my college should be reviewing us (but is not, because we have to attend pointless seminars for the sake of complying with requirements, ugh. And that is for one whole semester! One! Imagine how much wasted time that is. Why am I getting aggressive.).

I’ve invested my time reading the anatomy book my classmate reluctantly lent me. He was this closeted-competitive type and knew of my motives. But we mutually understood each other, and, well, I earned his trust. Studying that thing made me depressed since I had to rush it. All concepts, from Skeletal, to Muscular, Neuro… I promised a return date. I never break promises like this one. All I wanted to do during vacation is to do, well, nothing. I wanted to feel bored, the good kind of bored. I wanted to learn how to play the piano. I wanted to draw. I wanted to wake up at 5:30 AM just to watch the sky in silence. I want to buy lots of sweets and hoard them as I watch anime or more of House MD perhaps. I guess I wanted to do stuff after all.

This vacation slapped me in the face. It made me realize how incompetent I am, how I do not deserve to graduate, and anything else demeaning you can think of. I looked for something to obsess over as diversion, so I started playing my inactive MMO account. I realized that I was a sucker for these because it made me feel that I can achieve anything if I am determined and willing to work hard for it. In real life, it takes a lot more than that. Or that’s just me, being bitter and whatnot.

I honestly used to think I was some smart little cupcake. Turns out, I only learn stuff because I like the learning, not that my brain absorbs information readily. That isn’t so bad, you say? The problem comes when you put the element of time. I forget. I forget so many things, it’s almost pathological. I wonder how I’d fare outside the comforts of the classroom.

If my Father would ever win the grand prize in lottery, I’d ask him to let me study whatever I want, without the pressure of getting a job ASAP. I may be materialistic, but I don’t really have the hots to buy the latest iTrash or car if ever that happens. Sure, those would be nice, but not a priority. Kind of makes me understand why Bill Gates still chooses to live in simple terms.

**
Okay. Ranting out this much is a new record. I feel better at the moment, so I ran out of things to say. That isn’t a bad thing, by the way. So much negativity in a single entry makes me wonder why I still do not have a psychologist yet.

…Hm, that was kind of funny. Kind of.