hip, hip hypocrisy

can anyone say hypocrisy? i just looked in the mirror at myself and found that hypocrisy is just a synonym for yours truly. and i feel awfully ashamed of myself.

all that talk about keeping calm and blase about interviews. all the nonsensical proclamations that i don't give a damn about which faculty takes me in (not which faculty I GO TO. there's a huge difference). all the useless preaching about keeping a "ping chang xin" to mian dui the rejections and unfavourable outcomes.

Oh, dear Lord. Save my soul for i have succumbed to the sin of lying to myself. in so doing, i have deceived the people around me, and i have even partially convinced myself. but i know the Devil is eying my denial with greed, so please save me.

i cried twice yesterday. once, when i ignorantly and irresponsibly poured my orange gourami (TT, which stands for The Terminator) and angelfish and 2 other larger gouramis into the arowana tank. The arowana snapped open his jaws and chewed TT like a gummy sweet. Despite refusing adamantly to partake of any living food in any given form in the past 4 months that I have been here. i thought TT was gone for good, but miraculously he was hanging on to his dear sweet life - for all of 6 hours, before succumbing to the calls of the Great Beyond.

Thus TT became The Terminated. yes, not a funny joke. my mentor came up with it in a sad bid to cheer me up cos my crying was making his goosebumps protest.

I am an awfully irresponsible girl.

The second flooding of the lacrimal ducts came when i was helping my mentor (the one with the sick jokes :P) cut fin clips for DNA digestion. Sometime in the late evening, and it was raining depressed raindrops outside. alex the mentor decided to tell me a story after i confided in him my disappointment in myself for being such an ingrate and hypocrite when i am already being favoured with the chance of being considered for medicine.

alex: let me tell you a story.
me: *unaware of the imminent floodgate-opening story* ok, say lor. free entertainment, haha.
alex: you know har, i had a friend. he was also like you, he worked like a workaholic and cared about his career and money the most.
me: most youngsters are like that - very materialistic. (note that i still couldn't shake off the hypocrisy despite all the self-berating)
alex: yar. so he worked and worked and worked and forgot about his family. he slowly forgot his mother (his father, i assume, has already left this world some time ago) while he worked his guts out to earn all the money and the certificates. then one day his conscience struck and he thought: oh, i forgot all about my mother.
me: *faking nonchalance* hmmm.
alex: so, like any other modern "filial" youngster, he called up his mother. "ma, come i treat you to dinner." The mother was so happy to hear from her son again and couldn't say much more than her eager agreement to the dinner appointment. so they met for dinner at the restaurant. the mum has become much thinner, older and more frail since the son last saw her, but she was so happy. she was smiling, and laughing, and he had never seen her any happier before in his entire life.
me: well, yeah. i mean, they lost contact for so long...
alex: the mum was really really happy that night. so she said to the son: "next time, we come here again, but on one condition: i will treat you. promise?" the son casually agreed without thinking. he thought, just a meal can make her so happy, it's not even a classy restaurant. he sent the mum home and they parted, mutually promising to make a date for the next dinner soon.
me: *thinking, oh no. she dies. i bet.*
alex: then, not long after the dinner, the son got a call from the police. they say the neighbours found the old lady dead in the flat alone. so naturally the son was quite sad and all, but he thought, well, she's old. and all the usual mental excuses people think of when they're trying to convince themselves they're not guilty.
me: yeah... *thinks: he's hit the nail on the head - i AM trying to run away from my fear of rejection by feigning apathy*
alex: wait, not finished yet. during the funeral on the day after the death, he was there busy with stuff and visitors when he got a call. he answered, hello? a male voice said, is this mr XXX? he said, yeah, speaking. the voice says, oh we're calling from YYY restaurant, your mother made a reservation for tonight but paid upfront quite some time ago, we're just calling to check and confirm your presence tonight?

suddenly my throat just closed up tight and i couldn't breathe, and everything clouded over with salty depressed guilty tears taken from the chilly april sky. and i cried.

in my mind, i can still see vividly the image of a well-dressed businessman and his wife, sitting at a small round table set for 3, looking at the sole empty seat and weeping silently together to mourn the loss of the last reunion dinner for the family.

alex, i'll never forgive you for making a stupid girl sick with the flu cry twice in a day! >_<