I spent most of yesterday morning in my GMAT class, learning to tackle critical reasoning and math problems. I’m sort of understanding the problem though I’m still pretty rusty. The teacher made it look so easy on the board that it felt like even a three-year-old can do it. So why can’t I? Maybe I’m thinking too complicated. I feel like the problems are designed to teach us to approach it in a simpler manner, like a five-year-old tackles additions and subtractions by counting fingers.
After my GMAT class, I texted my mom who, by the way, was supposed to text me, not the other way around. She was already at my friend’s graduation and had told me to meet her there. She gave me the address but didn’t give me driving directions or when the graduation was supposed to start. Maybe she thought I’ve been to the school and downtown so many times that I’m supposed to know every shortcut to get back on the freeway. Ha ha, I don’t.
Then, just as I need the internet most, I lost it. The moment I stepped into the parking lot, the internet just poof, gone.
So I had to get directions the hard way, by asking around. Thank god, I bumped into the lady that sat next to me in class. She’s awesome at giving direction but since I’m venturing into unknown territory, I was questioning myself and the directions she drew for me the whole way.
Did I make the right turn? Did I miss the freeway entrance? It’s not that far, is it?
Fortunately, I followed her direction and I made it, only made one mistake along the way, getting onto the wrong freeway, actually, it’s the right freeway, just wrong direction.
At last, I arrived after sitting in traffic jam for 10 minutes. Apparently, there was only one road in and out of the arena and drivers in that part of the city happened to be quite unforgiving. They didn’t let me sneak into the lanes at all.
I parked my car somewhere, stomach growling, hand trembling, and feeling quite stuffy. I made my way through the crowd into the arena. From there, I searched for my mom while being shoved by the tens people around me listening to an old man shouting, “First level is full!”
I went up to the second level where I asked an old lady about the main box office. She was like, “What are you talking about?”
“The main box office,” I said louder and slower, enunciating each word as clearly as I could. Thankfully, before I got too frustrated and irritated by the lady’s naggy voice and lazy attitude, I heard a familiar voice behind me. It was my mom, squeezing through the crowd, coming up the stairs. There, she led me to an entrance and together, we descended a set of stairs to our seats.
The smart person I was, I managed to bring my tablet (camera’s got a dead battery) and captured a few pictures. Not very good mainly because we arrived too late to find any good seats.
It was a little different than mine. For starters, it’s a smaller school so the commencement and convocation had been combined. Secondly, everybody, including the undergraduates sat in the same place. In my graduation, the undergraduates sat in a restricted section of the stands. I think by sitting down there, it kind of give you a sense of importance whereas sitting in the stands just makes you feel like a bystander, sort of like your achievement wasn’t big enough to be recognized.
The first speaker was the president of the school and what he said at first really moved me. He said something along the line of, a part of your life is over but a new part of your life is just beginning. I kind of felt like that when I took my last final before I graduated last year. I felt like I’ve been waiting so long for this moment and now that it’s come, I wish I could just have one more day of learning.
And as usual, an idea sparked. It’s sort of autobiographical but the idea’s playing in my head like a movie ever since.
I’ve been spending most of the day today writing another story since my current rewrite of my novella has temporarily reached an impasse. I will have dig deeper into my brain to come up with a plot of what happens next.
But yeah, you can say going to my friend’s graduation changed my perspective on somethings, like 180 degrees change.
It was written and publish about 13 months ago. So basically, last summer. Now that I reflect on this post, last summer was probably the worst summer in the history of all the summers I’ve had counting the ones as a kid in China. When I wrote this, I felt like I was literally about to blow.
I have been mostly restricted to fiction this week. If you haven’t notice, I’ve been posting nothing but fiction in the last three days. What can I say, I don’t feel like write anything when I feel like crap and yes, I still do but I seem to be just a tiny bit better this morning after mom pushed open my door at 7 am this morning and woke me in a panic for no reason at all except telling me to get to work. She’s gone for the day though, finally, taking a language exam 50 miles away.
This is Another Story 