Intolerable team mates

          Recently we've been assigned with teammates for our final assignment, which means we're stuck with one person for the whole semester, and our grades depend on each other. No big deal. Pick people on random. Go ahea- oh wait you actually did that.

          I've been stuck with the new classmate. She has work experience in advertising, which is what this class is, she already has a diploma in advertising and graphic design, sounds great right? Nope. Every single task, she'll say "why don't we make our target audience mothers? Because I made a study on mothers before this." or "What if we made a vending machine for noodles? Because that's what I did when I worked for Maggi." My god, shut up. Have you ever thought about maybe having different ideas?

          It'd be nice if it was something like 'oh, our target audience is working young adults? Great! I have what we need right here.' instead of 'oh, our target audience is working young adults? How about we completely switch focus and target people who don't need targeting at all? Because I dealt with that once, and I only know about things I've already done.' Perfect. Just the kind of teammate everyone wants.

          How about you start thinking about things that can actually be done? I know you're older and you have experience, and a newer iphone, but you have to know that there are some things you're just not that good at. Food photography for example. Part of our assignment was to create a new recipe for instant noodles. Don't be like 'here, why don't I take pictures instead' after I've already taken pictures (and mine were used in the end anyway). You don't know how to use an iphone OR an iphone camera. Swipe left god damn it, you don't have to unlock your phone and find the camera app EVERY SINGLE TIME, the food is burning.

        AND I'm the one cooking too. We had to go shopping to buy some ingredients that I didn't have, because I'm a nice, generous person, so I volunteered some ingredients that I already had. Makes sense right? So we bought tortilla wraps, instant noodles, and mushrooms. And I used my butter, chicken, cheese, and broccoli.  Some of these things are more expensive than the other. So she offered oh so generously to pay for half of the food we bought just then, but she fully intended to take half the ingredients home with her. Not just that, she absolutely LAYERED the wraps with cheese. MY cheese. And it's not cheap cheese either. She even said afterwards, 'you know, I don't eat noodles or mushrooms or wraps, but I do eat cheese'. Dude, I'm not gonna give you my cheese. My cheese is my life. Anyway, she never offered to pay for my ingredients that we used.

          What also sucked was that even though my ideas were the ones that the lecturer liked, she got all the glory because she talks more than me (too much in fact) and now the lecturer thinks it's all her idea. And since the photos were on her phone, it looks like she cooked it too. I know it's partly my fault for being quiet, but MOST people would say 'Jo had an idea that bla bla bla' or 'Jo cooked the food bla bla bla' because most people are decent.

          The thing about all of this that really annoys me is she's not doing it on purpose. I can't even really be mad at her because she doesn't know what she's doing. It's so frustrating. And I have to deal with it for the whole semester. 6 months! Argh. Time to train my patience.

Barbie dolls and doll dresses

          Many people have asked me: Why did you buy a barbie doll right before your 20th birthday? I know. Seems ridiculous. I haven't played with dolls since I was 10. And it is very very much because of my father.

          When I was about 7 or 8, my dad taught me how to sew. He was constantly buying me barbie dolls and dollhouses, and he told me stories of when my aunt was a girl, He would tell me about how they had no money to buy doll clothes, and how creative my aunt was, so he taught her how to sew. And she stole clothes from people and cut holes out of them to make clothes, specifically a pair of my dad's jeans.

          This just reminds me so much of the kind of person my dad is. He never thought, oh, I can afford to buy doll clothes now, there's no need to make it by hand. Because it really isn't about the doll clothes is it? I mean, let's face it, they were incredibly ugly. It was the process. The bonding as father and daughter. And the lifelong skill he taught me. None of my other siblings know how to sew, and it is a terrible inconvenience. Sewing on a loose button, mending a ripped seam, it's an incredibly useful skill.

          When my dad was very very sick, I ordered a barbie doll and some sewing materials, thinking I could start making doll clothes again and show him the things I made with the skills he taught me. Deep and metaphorical, I know. But luck is cruel, as it happens. My parcels arrived on his funeral. What a shock, and what a blow to my emotions. As if I didn't already have enough regrets.

          I am not unfazed by my father's death, how could I be? I'm just not the type of person who shows emotions so freely, as many people do. And it does bother me that many of my relatives think I do not love my father or appreciate my father, just because I couldn't find anything to say to him in his deathbed. It bothers me a great deal, considering I am definitely the only child to ever really consider my dad's feelings on most anything.

          He and I are very much alike. A little too much alike, even. He was incredibly stubborn, as am I, and many people have urged me to curb my stubbornness, but... It would feel like I would be less like my dad. I would never ever want to be less like my dad. If I could, I'd be a carbon copy of him. I want my life to go the way that his did. Marry someone better looking than me, earn more money than my spouse, have 4 children, live in a big house that I bought myself, and be a great parent. It's my life long dream. The ultimate life goal.

          I like to think he's in heaven somewhere and he sees what we're doing (not how taoist heaven works but honestly, it's made up anyway, I'd like it to be my way) and he'd be able to read what we write, hear what we say. I hope that I'll get to be in heaven some day and he'll tell me how proud he is of me. And I'd be able to tell him how much of it was because of him.