Arte trivialle has a meaning!

Arte trivialle actually has a meaning! I googled it and here is what I found:

'The word trivial entered Middle English with senses quite different from its most common contemporary ones. We find in a work from 1432-50 mention of the "arte trivialle," an allusion to the three liberal arts that made up the trivium, the lower division of the seven liberal arts taught in medieval universitiesgrammar, rhetoric, and logic. The history of trivial goes back to the Latin word trivium, formed from the prefix tri-, "three," and via, "road." Trivium thus meant "the meeting place of three roads, especially as a place of public resort." The publicness of such a place also gave the word a pejorative sense that we express in the phrase the gutter, as in "His manners were formed in the gutter." The Latin adjective trivilis, derived from trivium, thus meant "appropriate to the street corner, commonplace, vulgar." Trivial is first recorded in English with a sense identical to that of trivilis in 1589. Shortly after that trivial is recorded in the sense most familiar to us, "of little importance or significance," making it a word now used of things less weighty than grammar, rhetoric, and logic.' (http://www.thefreedictionary.com/trivially)

Ironic, isn't it?

Things to do in a boring, sleep-inducing class

Here is a list of things to do in a boring, sleep-inducing class:
1) Count the number of times the lecturer tries to tell a joke that fell flat, or if the lecturer is flat himself, count the number of times that you are grateful that the lecturer actually tries to tell a joke.
2) Paint the Mona Lisa on your friend's arm with markers, highlighters and pens. If they can do it with toast, I bet stationery works even better. You can both admire it during the break later.
3) If it gets really, REALLY boring and if you feel really, REALLY sleepy, give the person in front of you a very hard kick. Make sure he is the biggest guy in class. When that person turns to look at you, just smile. Wait for a bit and see what happens. With any luck you may find yourself with a black eye. Or worst. Adrenaline works better than any amount of caffeine.
4) Here is a trick I learnt from a guy in my class, given here with some minor adjustments to maximize the entertainment value. If you don't know the person behind you, turn and stare at him/her. Turn and stare repeatedly with a creepy smile. Whisper the word "watermelon" into your friend's ears repeatedly. Then turn and stare again. Its always fun to irritate or mess with someone else's head.
5) Write a song about your boredom. Then write another song about your boredom . Then write another, and another song about the boredom you face in class. Make sure all the song sounds almost the same, ala Taylor Swift. If lady luck is on your side, someday you might have a successful recording career just like her.
5) When all else fail, leave or just let yourself fall asleep. You'll be surprised at how liberating it can be.

Malaysians just couldn't care less, or do they not have the balls?

I am not being obscene; I meant it in a metaphorical, 'unliteral' sense. Our Prime Minister and Dr M recently commented that Malaysia is very different from Egypt, and that protests not unlike the ones seen in Egypt will not happen here. The PM even went as far as to warn against any attempt to usurp power by using demonstrations.
I don't necessarily agree with our PM or Dr M all the time, but I have to agree with them on this one. Malaysians are generally too preoccupied with their lives to gather in the streets to protest. Sure, there will be a number of Malaysians who are willing to brave the hot sun and sacrifice their time to protest. But for the rest of us it is a different story altogether: 'Demonstration in KL on Sunday? Where? OK, I will avoid using that road. But alamak, now cannot go Midvalley already lah. Never mind, I ll just go to One U.' Malaysians generally see protests as an inconvenience. Parents warn their children not to join for fear of the police. Some think that demonstrations have no effect: 'demonstrate for what? no use one'
Now, before you accuse me of calling Malaysians cowards, let me tell you that I am one of those people who avoid places where demonstrations are held. I just think that Malaysians are very practical people who care more about the bread-and-butter issues more than rights. There is nothing wrong with that; people need to fill stomachs first, don't they?
In the one year that I was in the UK, rubbish collectors, staff at the Royal Mail, Railway employees, university lecturers and professors and staff of the British Airways went on strike, or almost went on strike. Students went on a violent protest against the hike in tuition fees. Protests and strikes happen in Malaysia, but on a (much much) smaller scale. Do Malaysians just couldn't care less? Do Malaysians not have the balls? I think not. When pushed to the edge, Malaysians will take the protests to the street. No doubt we are (sometimes) 'all talk no action', but I think when the situation becomes unbearable, or when those with power openly and atrociously misuse it, Malaysian will take action. The situation currently just does not warrant the turmoil and chaos involved, but all politicians should take note.

Vanity and good looking people

I recently visited the hair salon to have my hair permed. As a result of the perm, I experienced a (chemical) burn on my scalp, so I had a scalp treatment done, which by the way, did nothing to relieve my pain, but I thought that it would go away after a few days, so I bared with it. However, the worst part of it all was, after washing my hair the day after, my hair did not turn out the way I expected it to. So the next day I visited the salon with my friend to lodge a complaint to the hairstylist. Hey, I can bear the pain and all, but if you make me look ugly, you pay, you understand?
Anyway, let me get to the point, which is not at all to inform everyone that I had my hair permed, or that I am an air headed blonde.(used in the metaphorical sense, of course; I have nothing against blondes) In any case, I am definitely not one, contrary to what the current situation might imply. The point is that when we reached the hair salon, the moment my friend who was with me saw the hairstylist, she turned to me and said "Jue Ann, tell him your problem and see what he says. Be nice." Me, being the rational, logical creation of god that I am, in any other situation, would of course agree with this statement. But this is not any other situation. This is a situation where the perming lotion caused a chemical burn on my scalp, and prior to getting to the salon, it was HER suggestion to complain, and she also said that I should be adamant about about getting some sort of compensation. Before we got out of the car, I was under the impression that she was going to back me up. So I agreed, but dont get me wrong; I am not a difficult person in general, but I believe that consumers need to exercise their rights in order to ensure that businesses provide the best products or services that are also value for money. Or maybe I was just pissed.
Now I am supposed to BE NICE? So what made her change her mind? The fact that the hairstylist was HOT (and according to her, it was also because he was extremely polite. YEAH RIGHT). Never mind that he might be gay and never mind that he was also TERRIBLE at his job. Apparently good looking people are more superior than your average, didnt-win-the-genetic-lottery lesser mortals, and they can get away with anything. Even reducing your friend's scalp into something that now looks like dried mince meat.
Ok, so he was polite, and so he did rush out to return my phone when I accidentally left it in his salon. But so? I am looking for someone who does the job(i.e. a good hairstylist), not someone who looks like Zero Ma or some other Taiwanese hearthrob who holds the door for me. People need to get past the pretty, shiny exterior and look at the person's talents and abilities. If not, you might as well get your pet peacock to do your accounts or appoint a monkey to represent you in court.(Although to be honest, I sometimes doubt if an accountant or lawyer could do a better job, so you might be better off with a peacock and a monkey after all.)
I am sure everyone knows style does not necessarily equal substance. Yet people continue to be nicer to those who are visually more aesthetically pleasing. Now do you wonder why I put myself through so much pain to get nicer looking hair?

I am Malaysian and I speak 3 languages.

At home, I speak English, but my mother, in an attempt to make me learn Mandarin, tries to communicate in the language with me and my brother. Her brothers and sisters (my Aunts and Uncles) and their children consider Mandarin to be their first language. She and my dad are from Hokkien families, so I understand the dialect as well. My dad used to work in the customs so I had spent a substantial part of my childhood in the customs quarters, where most of my neighbors where Malay. I also went to a kebangsaan school, where the Malay language is the medium.
So I speak 3 languages. Well, two and a half to be exact, and one dialect. Yet, despite this, I still cant communicate properly with the hawker on Petaling Street, or the hairstylist in Damansara. Mandarin Chinese is an option as they can understand me but they reply in Cantonese, something foreign to me; I find myself being (somewhat) a foreigner in Malaysia. I feel cheated; after all, I am Malaysian and I am Chinese. Should'nt everyone speak the same language?
In Malaysia you are expected to be fluent in your mother tongue. Some people might resent you for conversing in another language. Me and my friend, who is Indian, learnt this the hard way one day as we were travelling on the bus. While we were talking excitedly and rather loudly, an Indian man came up to us to tell us off, not for talking loudly, but because my friend choose to speak English rather than Tamil. At that time, I was not sure of what was going on; my friend immediately fell silent for a while, but later continued the conversation with me, ignoring him. I am glad she did. We were 17 at that time, and still remain friends to this day. I can bet that she has already forgotten about the incident but I, however, have not. Difficult as it may be, I try not to judge a person based on the language of his or her choice.
So here in Malaysia the language that you speak defines you. I dont think that should be the case. Language is a tool. If you need it, you acquire it. After I recollect the incident on the bus, I no longer feel annoyed by the fact that the Chinese in KL dont speak Mandarin. If I want to avoid the miscommunication that happens so often to me nowadays, I will just have to learn the language, simple as that. While I am at it, I should celebrate the fact that people in Malaysia come from different backgrounds and speak various languages. I just hope that that Indian man on the bus now feels the same way.

Looking back!

I revived my blog after a year of absence because I realized that I needed an avenue to air my opinion and because I still loved to write, but most of all, it is because I wanted to be heard as well. Looking back at the previous posts, I cringe at how immature and self centred my blog was, hence I deleted them all. Out with the old, in comes the new, I guess. It is surprising how much a year can change a person. I only hope that is it for the better.