a change of heart
So this appears to be my first entry since god knows when.
I'd like to say a lot of things have changed, that I've matured into a spanking-new (decent) level of human, and am now wizened and wise beyond my years. Truth is, life isn't much different. I'm a couple months ahead of my final days as sophomore, head reeling with instantaneously forgettable lingo -- clindomycin, IV immunoglobulins, toll-like receptors, necrotizing fasciitis (now I'm just showing off) etc etc -- because medical school is like being given an ass-whopping-flying-kick out of your comfort zone straight into a vat of steaming oil.
There have been times when I'm riddled with self-doubt, when I worry about the capacity of my own brain, and whether I can retain even one useful nugget out of the seemingly unending drones and drawls of 9-5 lectures. In the face of mountains, do you climb, walk around or dig through it? Given half the chance, I'd bag myself an aeronautical engineer and fly over it on a personal jetcraft, and maybe see some worthwhile scenes along the way. Of course, in certain situations, the easiest route is not necessarily the best one, and sometimes you've just got to swing the rucksack over your shoulder and keep plodding. Onwards and upwards, as they say.
After April exams (the most stressful few weeks of my life, no lie), I've toned down work a shade, and vowed to spend more time doing artistically stimulating things. I borrowed two books from the university library, a Milan Kundera (Immortality) and a P.G. Wodehouse (My Man Jeeves), both of which I have started, and both of which I have paused till further notice. There has been an e-book I've been slyly perusing during the saggy parts of lectures -- a certain David Sedaris, humorist-essayist whose Let's Explore Diabetes with Owls caught my eye, principally because of the word diabetes, which is health-related and therefore perfectly excusable reading material inside a medical lecture theatre, and secondarily because of owls, which I'd like to say I have an unhealthy obsession with, but that would sound overtly dramatic. The two of them together is a no-brainer, and after reading some highly positive reviews, I dove right in.
It's good. In fact, it's more than good, it's very good.
It's the type of book you can pick up anywhere, anytime, because its format -- little pockets of thirst-quenching essays peppered with some snarky commentary (of laugh out loud quality) -- invites you in, but doesn't hold you prisoner. You don't find yourself daydreaming about Sedaris' strange attachment to his French periodontists, nor that once-in-a-lifetime trip where he falls in love-at-first-touch squished next to a roughened Arabian stranger on an overpacked train. His language is straightforward and clean, no fancy frills or pretence, just wholesome personality on the page. And I like that.
Aside from reading, I have been pulled back into the world of gooey Mandarin dramas, via a convoluted Youtube detour which brought me straight into the lap of Han Geng's second film release, So Young (致我们终将逝去的青春). Directed by Zhao Wei, its subject is standard -- love triangle; two guys and a girl, guess who she ends up with? But its context draws you in, 1980s university style, where people delivered hand-written letters and nobody texted in class. And I have to admit -- the cast is pretty charming. My only caveat: Han Geng isn't Han Geng! Let me qualify this statement -- his voice has been dubbed over. Once again for emphasis: DUBBED OVER. By some poor unknown's manlier vocal cords because obviously the singer with the trans-continental fame couldn't lend his own voice to the recording tape. What a joke! After some furious googling, it seems like no one else sufficiently fluent in the English language has commented upon this... but I'm pretty 100% undoubtedly certain it's not him. Considering I've tuned into his itty-bitty high-frequency-for-a-dude tone for years now, unless he's suddenly got laryngeal surgery, it's NOT HIM.
Okay! Rant over. Time for say a hearty farewell to the lost boy I've been blindly following since 2009, when I saw Super Junior-M on 鲁豫有约. Goodbye Geng! It's been a good run (but I'm well glad it's over).
I'd like to say a lot of things have changed, that I've matured into a spanking-new (decent) level of human, and am now wizened and wise beyond my years. Truth is, life isn't much different. I'm a couple months ahead of my final days as sophomore, head reeling with instantaneously forgettable lingo -- clindomycin, IV immunoglobulins, toll-like receptors, necrotizing fasciitis (now I'm just showing off) etc etc -- because medical school is like being given an ass-whopping-flying-kick out of your comfort zone straight into a vat of steaming oil.
There have been times when I'm riddled with self-doubt, when I worry about the capacity of my own brain, and whether I can retain even one useful nugget out of the seemingly unending drones and drawls of 9-5 lectures. In the face of mountains, do you climb, walk around or dig through it? Given half the chance, I'd bag myself an aeronautical engineer and fly over it on a personal jetcraft, and maybe see some worthwhile scenes along the way. Of course, in certain situations, the easiest route is not necessarily the best one, and sometimes you've just got to swing the rucksack over your shoulder and keep plodding. Onwards and upwards, as they say.
After April exams (the most stressful few weeks of my life, no lie), I've toned down work a shade, and vowed to spend more time doing artistically stimulating things. I borrowed two books from the university library, a Milan Kundera (Immortality) and a P.G. Wodehouse (My Man Jeeves), both of which I have started, and both of which I have paused till further notice. There has been an e-book I've been slyly perusing during the saggy parts of lectures -- a certain David Sedaris, humorist-essayist whose Let's Explore Diabetes with Owls caught my eye, principally because of the word diabetes, which is health-related and therefore perfectly excusable reading material inside a medical lecture theatre, and secondarily because of owls, which I'd like to say I have an unhealthy obsession with, but that would sound overtly dramatic. The two of them together is a no-brainer, and after reading some highly positive reviews, I dove right in.
It's good. In fact, it's more than good, it's very good.
It's the type of book you can pick up anywhere, anytime, because its format -- little pockets of thirst-quenching essays peppered with some snarky commentary (of laugh out loud quality) -- invites you in, but doesn't hold you prisoner. You don't find yourself daydreaming about Sedaris' strange attachment to his French periodontists, nor that once-in-a-lifetime trip where he falls in love-at-first-touch squished next to a roughened Arabian stranger on an overpacked train. His language is straightforward and clean, no fancy frills or pretence, just wholesome personality on the page. And I like that.
Aside from reading, I have been pulled back into the world of gooey Mandarin dramas, via a convoluted Youtube detour which brought me straight into the lap of Han Geng's second film release, So Young (致我们终将逝去的青春). Directed by Zhao Wei, its subject is standard -- love triangle; two guys and a girl, guess who she ends up with? But its context draws you in, 1980s university style, where people delivered hand-written letters and nobody texted in class. And I have to admit -- the cast is pretty charming. My only caveat: Han Geng isn't Han Geng! Let me qualify this statement -- his voice has been dubbed over. Once again for emphasis: DUBBED OVER. By some poor unknown's manlier vocal cords because obviously the singer with the trans-continental fame couldn't lend his own voice to the recording tape. What a joke! After some furious googling, it seems like no one else sufficiently fluent in the English language has commented upon this... but I'm pretty 100% undoubtedly certain it's not him. Considering I've tuned into his itty-bitty high-frequency-for-a-dude tone for years now, unless he's suddenly got laryngeal surgery, it's NOT HIM.
Okay! Rant over. Time for say a hearty farewell to the lost boy I've been blindly following since 2009, when I saw Super Junior-M on 鲁豫有约. Goodbye Geng! It's been a good run (but I'm well glad it's over).