Wang's Kitchen

Writing my personal statement: here are some things i've left out:

Why do I want to go to grad school?

1) I love biology
- more like, I like biology and I have no choice, bitch! I signed my soul to my masters a loong time ago.
2) I am really good in the lab, having spent 3 years of my life working 10 hour days despite my super hard schedule (to those cheebyes who think Wisc bio is easy peasy, well fuck you nigga. i'm doing grad level courses and i'm not slacking) , <------ less vulgar words to the effect
- I have no skills apart from the sibeh high level of technical ability at the bench. I've overspecliazed myself out of the job market, so to speak.
3) I've been so adapted to life as a grad student that I will transition seamlesssly from undergrad to grad (slave)
- i am too deep into research such that incoming rotator grad students mistake me for a grad student and all my bosses think i'm a grad student. Why? because I dress like i woke up from bed 5 minutes ago and have no life and look like a geek shit.

As u can see, my fellow cynics, its about putting the right amount of spin in it.

From Russlit Prof, mumblings and unintelligble sounds edited out:
"...in Chekhov's view, a sure sign of dehumanization is the non disjunction between one's professional and private life- one can easily find such individuals in Chekhov's Russia as here today: just listen to them talk. It is as though their professional details are a sort of shell in which they retreat and hide from reality, insulated in an ideological pigeonhole where they don't really live, but merely exist in a multitude of cliches and thrive only in the material. And this insulation is the start of the rot into full blown automatization and mechanization and at the end human beings become merely animals, as you see in his many stories..."

I think the rot started two years ago and i'm in this advanced stage ever since:
i speak in a string of unintelligble phrases, have no personal life at all, and am a virtual machine at work. i don't get crushed or crushed upon anymore, and i studiously avoid eye contact.

is this my personal utopia? to ascend from a mere human to a bronzed cast iron academic god?

Russlit Class, Monday:

Old Prof, Croaking: *mumble mumble Anna ... autmaticization.. mechanization... *mumble**Mumble*
Me: ....... *scribble* .....
Old Prof: hrmm. oh. hrmmm i suddenly remember what i'm supposed to say to you since last friday. oh rmmm . *breaks off into russian*
Russian Guy sitting next to me: shit!
Old Prof: oh hrmm sorry. let me say again in english. you have a test on friday. 19 stories what we've covered so far...
Everyone: *groan*
Me: Pua Cheebye
Russian Guy: 'yob tvoyu mat!
Everyone looks at us.
Me: Er sorry I was talking to myself.
Prof looks at the Russian guy and says "now now, no swearing"

and i've got virol test on friday already. siao liao ji pai!

Wind dropped by today and we drank quite a bit at the union. Was a windy day though; 5 degrees Celsius but i was going about in one layer and rosy cheeks and i still thought it was hot. maybe my insulation blubber is really getting thicker from all that pigging out. Could it be that Wind brings along the wind? Hopefully he won't get tired of this town; the sun will be out tomorrow and the brilliant blue skies will be clear. it means its time to hit Mifflin and the East Side to have a look at the hippies in their native environment, not that they're animals or something, but they're the only idealists left and are soon to be extinct. i'm blabbering as usual after a pitcher of strongbow but hey, since when old friends come visit eh? i have to get him drunk goddamit.

(blah blah muthafucking blah. another attempt at the insiduous monologue. wtf am i doing typing when tipsy)

ok. looking at my previous post, i'm amazed by myself. i was having a schizo episode of sorts when i was tipsy last night, and i recorded the whole self conversation down. wtf.
but anyway, after consulting with Ram and an another yindian guy, i finally made some decent daal. turns out 1) you must fry the spices first 2) you have to put less lentils 3) that orange yellowish spice i bought at the asian supermarket is not saffron, its tumeric and hence can be added liberally. and now i'm eating my first real indian daal as opposed to my earlier attempts with the slow cooker that didn't make daal, but just lentil paste, which turns out in retrospect to be a better medium for growing fungi than for replenishing the stomach.
anyway, yum yum. no pictures though. i ate the damned thing up already

*nudge nudge*
"why are you tipsy, you dumbfuck?"
"why do you wanna know?"
"why do you wanna drink so much luv. its no good for your liver"
"there are things in this world better than the state of my HBV infested liver, prick"
"so u wanna die early prick?"
"anything is better than being shackled to you, you book swotting cheebye. i drink to be free. from you"
"you jolly well know, my little other, that you can't be free from me"
"well for a short while i can. so there. wotcha gonna do about it?"
"i've gotta study for my p-chem tomorrow brother. i would appreciate if you left me to do my thang with a leeetle bit more of them brain cells that you're killing now"
"fuck you and your p-chem. and go away. my spaten beckons."
"spaten your ass nigga. your brain cells nigga! your brain cells!"
"thats all you care about? your brain cells?"
"then what. you wanna be lynched? you wanna be sent to siberia to roast in the sun and clean testtubes and push paper and fellate admin dick?"
"at the rate you're using me nigga, i'd rather suck and scrub then go to grad school"
"well screw you. at least the truth will set me free."
"freee?" *takes a mouthfull of Spaten* " free my ass. you're opppressed, brother, thats what you are. and you can't do without Spaten and music too prick"
"oh yes i can. i do my p-chem the best without music. of course, if its virol i'd do the best with music. and of course, with socio, the best combi.."
"SHUT THE FUCK UP BRO! I'M DRINKING."
"hey chill out"
"you chill out. its been two years since you were set free nigga. set free. and now you're as oppressed as ever"
"what oppressed? i'm freee. i'm taking the hardest shit courses and kicking everyone's butt. everyone in my lab thinks i'm this mega machine who churns out data like a robot.."
"thats what you are bitch. you're a machine. a fucking machine. Raging against the Hygromycin."
"i wish i could be a fucking machine. but thanks anyway. i'd be a machine"
"you remember the Tin Man from Wizard of Oz?"
"yeah, he's the guy without the heart yes?"
"WELL PRICK YOU'RE HEART'S GONE! YOU'RE THAT PATHETIC CREATURE!"
"........."
"whats wrong with you prick? look at your clothes . you dress like an old man. and you're only twenty 3."
"going on twenty four nigga. twenty four is and am old time"
"ok. forget about the clothes. look at yourself nigga! permanent scowl. no one in the lab actually knows you. you're as quiet as a door-fucking mouse! you hate people!"
"i'm busy. what can i do?"
"busy? busy building walls around you, thats what you're doing. why are you so afraid of people lately?"
"well... who says i am?"
"fuck you. its boring here luv. almost three years in your intellectual home (and you had the gall to say that) and you have no real life. everyday, every day its about work work work and the next test and the next paper. wheres the fun? "
"what fun? there are better things than fun luv. like kicking grad student butt"
"you're oppressed you shit thats what you are. instead of fantasizing about arses, you wanna kick them. two years of this shit, and i've had enough" *cracks another bottle of Spaten*
"well............ fuck you. i'm free. like right now. getting ready for bed"
"how orderly your thinking is, mr sensible. do u know what dictates your life? your fucking calendar. your fucking order. your fucking coffee. and your fuckign Bach!"
"hey hey. don't insult Bach!"
"okay sorry. he sounds good when I make us drunk"
"yeah nigga. stop drinking. comeon. time for bed" *nudge*
"you still haven't asked, whats the occasion nigga"
"yeah , so whats the occasion nigga?"
"the occasion? its a non occasion nigga! everyday passes by and everyday passes like yesterday is today, and today is yesterday and tomorrow is certainly yesterday and today! fucking ay!"
"its like that luv. suck it up, and deal with it."
"goddamn you know and i know that this year is gonna be shit"
"fuck man you're right. Every since Ram went MIA on me. and The Evil twin graduated. no more confidantes"
"exactly prick. no more fun. and my other brladers are what, a million miles away"
"fuck me, yes. pass me another bottle will ya?"
"fuck you. its my turn to drink!"
"drink, you? double yew tee eff brother?"
"Ram's getting married remember. a toast to him and Tiff. that slacker's got some charm to charm Tiff's socks off eh. and Tiff's not bad looking either. Damn. geleng and a mat salleh. imagine little Rams going around.."
"stop it prick! that thought of it is unbearable"
"hell, yeah, but look at the present company goddamn."
"whats wrong with them, they're fine"
"well fuck you they're fine."
"no confidantes, but they're fine."
"fine your ass nigga"
".... can't click."
"exactly. fuck. i miss ram. and the evil twin."
"yeah me too."
"and some of them tossers are stunted like you too prick."
"speaking for yourself eh?"
"they're acting as if they've made it. they're enjoying the yuppie lifestyle. all the cars. all the frivolous shite."
"speak for yourself before you judge prick. take a look at yourself. you're stunted too. just growing too much in the other direction. you're going INTO the ground nigga, while they're just trying to grow out too early too quickly bitch. hiding yourself where people can't find you. pathetic. why do you covet the ivory tower so much?"
"its not ivory prick."
"yeah its made of bone. i forgot. the bones of the shoulders of the giants. old and fossilized."
"inertia is the my life now dawg. inertia is what moves me."
"still....."
"how very fucking true. screw the beer. i've exceeded my quota for two weeks."
"my drunken half other. you've regained your sense of propreity"
"well fuck you.
"inertia. remember my brother. inertia. its that which gets me going. the weight of the mundane. the comfort of normalcy."
"stop bullshitting you're tipsy. get your ass to bed"
*pulls drink from hand*
"la la la. i'm pathetic, and i've just realized that i'm pathetic and i still gotta study for my p chem tomorrow"
"you didn't realize nigga. i did you and myself and yourself"
*smash beer bottle on head*

--------oblivion---------------------