Change (in the House of Boredom Inc.)

Change does not come easily. Even so, sometimes you nonchalantly found that you've changed towards something you did not expect in the first place because of small habits you've built up along the years without realizing it. It seems like the more you're *trying* to change, the more difficult it is to do. Just like how you've gained weight during the pandemic without being aware that you've been ordering more takeouts, while the journey towards weight loss seems like a Herculean challenge to keep up.

I've been taking a look at my blog posts along the year. I expressed my concern regarding the decision to create one blog post per day in some previous posts, wondering if the quantity of my writing will actually help me to become a good writer, after all. My partner advised for me to just keep writing, and told me to take a look at my past pieces, and I would see how much I have improved.

The verdict? I missed the way I could write.

I feel like along the years my brain has changed its way without me realizing it. I've become somehow more... normal, more sane, and I lost my touch of melancholy. I feel like I can no longer write in ambiguous metaphor and puzzling remarks. No more emo made-up conversations between me and a fictional significant other, no more insane subplot about prescribed a crazy medicine, no more bloody implied murder through passage of regrets.

I've become boring that I can no longer carry a narrative. My sentences do not hold the same power it used to back then.

After a brief moment of sorrow and heavy heart, it sinks to me that I might have changed. Along the years, I've been a different person without me realizing it. And as a changed person, I don't know if this blog is still relevant to my development. [Hold up. I'm not saying that I'm going to abandon this blog]

What I'm saying is, past Tay might have used this blog to express the unsaid, to release the pent-up anger and imagination, to use this blog as a catharsis towards sanity. But present Tay isn't past Tay, and what previously worked might not doing it the same way now. Now that present Tay has resorted to other means of coping mechanism that past Tay did not give way to, she is aware that she might not have written as beautifully as she previously could.

This blog is reduced to just a honest rant without the roundabout metaphorical journey. You now know that I hate QR code menus without me making a dramatic fuss about its black-and-white grid, without comparing it to gliding your finger through spiky concrete. It's just opinion piece now, ready to be submitted to mediakonsumen.com. It's new, it's honest, but it's not what past Tay would have wanted, and neither it's something present Tay is awfully proud of.

So the question still remains: Does writing everyday guarantee my improvement or it would just hinder it due to the "quantity-over-quality" pitfall? Is this blog still relevant, considering my current state?

I'm sure there is no clear-cut answer for that, since it's a journey I have to undergo to internalize.

But I think the fact that I'm beginning to question it, in itself, is already a step forward. That thought in itself is already a byproduct of me attempting to write every single day, so perhaps my piece on Tuesday is an ugly boot for me to leap towards a masterpiece Thursday. Perhaps I'm just getting accustomed again after a long while of blog hiatus.

If I do wonder how relevant my blog is towards my present self, maybe I do need to break down what part of it makes me hesitate, and I can use it for another material. Maybe the relevancy isn't so much about the writing itself, but how much the idea fit into a writing. If I have an honest piece that I'm not particularly too fond of, perhaps I can use it as a video review script or something. Doesn't mean that I have to stop writing, but maybe some of my ideas are better fit for stuff other than writing.

I wrote this at 10 AM, first thing in the morning as soon as I woke up. Brimming with ideas and fuzzy with extra caffeine I took yesterday. So perhaps the writing-everyday prompt is not such a bad idea after all.

Death to QR Code Menus

Imagine. You're just finished walking around the mall after looking at new shoes and accessories. You feel hungry. You and your family pointed at a nearby restaurant, reminding it's lunch time. You all walked in, sat on a table, and the waiter approached the table to give you menus. The images look appetizing, and you feel you're torn between choosing the steamy noodle meal or BBQ beef slices. You called the waiter and asked for his opinion between those two. He informed you of the two menus and you chose BBQ after a moment of consideration. He took your orders, confirmed them and said they would be ready in fifteen minutes. You thanked him and he bowed as he left your table.

If only, right? Instead of holding a menu book with its immersive pictures, the waiter handed you a piece of paper with the ever-increasingly familiar black-and-white grids. The darn QR code menus.

It was bothersome enough for me who spends everyday using my smartphone. Since the menu was in form of a .pdf file automatically saved to the device, my father had difficulty in locating the file in his smartphone. I had to try assisting him without being too invasive towards his phone. I re-downloaded the menu two times before we could open it, and even then it was too small for my father to see the whole menu clearly. Even I was getting disinterested to order anything.

Has this ever happened to you? What happened to the ultimate dining experience?

I don't want to sit here scrolling my phone straining my eyes to look at the small pictures in the digital menu, the file cluttered in my google drive for who knows how long. I want to be immersed in my dining experience. Just the foods and me (and whoever was eating with me).

Since the infamous Covid-19 pandemic period, restaurants seem to resort to switching their physical menu with QR code menu. I still like eating out, and I noticed in the many restaurants that I visit post-pandemic, those opting for QR code menus are divided into two types. First one is where the QR code only gives you the menu. This type of QR code only directs you to download a .pdf file of their menu, but you still have to call the waiters to order. The second type is where the QR code directs you to a website dedicated to their digital menu and you need to input the order directly through your phone, much like when you order UberEats or any type of food delivery service.

Now, I don't have any preference between the two. I would like both of them to just go extinct at this point, but they do come in different types of annoyance. Whichever kind the QR code menu we're talking about, ultimately the reason that I hate them is the inconvenience. Allow me to present several points of my argument here.

1. The menus aren't really optimized to phone viewing, and those that are, aren't as appetizing.

I've mentioned the two types of QR code menus. In restaurants like *some* sushi place I like to visit, they basically give us the un-printed version of their usually-physical menu. So instead of having the grand, big 'ol menu book with colored pages you can flip around to view the mouthwatering pictures, you have a lousy teeny tiny screen that you need to zoom in one by one to look at the topping.  

I would say this is a pretty time-consuming process, and not an exciting one at that. Unless you own an iPad, most times the items are too small to see clearly. Perhaps it's not too big of a deal if it's a place you like to frequent and you're already accustomed to the menu, and you have a regular order. Like in a *certain* sushi place, they recently shifted to the first type of QR code menu, but since I already know what I usually order, it's not as annoying. But the problem with this is then I'm doomed to repeat my usual orders, and there's no sense to explore other food because I'm already too lazy to scroll and zoom in on potential new favorites. 

There is also the second type of QR menu, which is akin to something you see in GoFood or UberEats. The menu is optimized for phone, because you order directly from your device. But I personally think this diminishes the experience of eating out. With this kind of menu it just feels like you're not dining outside your apartment. You don't really talk to the waiter, and it feels like you're not really expected to do so. Perhaps some people are okay with this change of not having to interact, but I feel like it's part of the charm of going out to eat.

2. "No-contact" safety? But you're already there!

One argument in favor for these QR code menus is the pandemic situation we all know have faced. Business owners are increasingly trying to appeal to more hygenic measures, such as cashless payment and contactless delivery. And now the QR code menu. Because they probably don't want our filthy hands on their physical, printed-out menu.

I don't know how to tell you this, but if you are eating out, you already risk yourself by going out, sitting on the assigned seat, out in the public. Looking back, I figured Covid-19 is transmitted airborne, so having removing your mask to eat out is far more risky. And if you're really a person who's concerned about hygiene, you would already accustomed to bring your own hand sanitizer, or own little bottle of soap to wash your hands?

3. Errors by customer's side.

Personal experience. I've once ordered via QR code where it directed me to the website to order on my smartphone. I was already tired enough that I didn't want to look at my tiny phone (I prefer one I can put in my pocket), but my family's lunch fate depended on me. I wouldn't possibly get my father or my mother to be the one ordering, right? So I explained what's on the (teeny tiny) menu, described the menu one by one, took their orders, and when I try to click the "submit" button, it just did nothing. I clicked and clicked. Nada. After several attempts and resetting my mobile data, I finally walked to the cashier and they inputted our orders manually. So much for automation, right.

Now, I could be just being an old grumpy hag in this case, but what if other errors happened? What if we ran out of mobile data? What if the menu refreshed itself and we had to re-input the orders? What if my parents wanted to eat there but their daughter wasn't there to help with order? What if their phone doesn't have a built-in QR code scanner? Would they still want to eat there, then?

What they have established by shifting the labor towards customer's side is basically adding more possibility to errors. For digitally inclined customers, perhaps this wouldn't be much of an issue. But they're saying to us that if we're not on our phone, they don't want our business.

4. Straight to system?

Perhaps another argument in favor is how the QR code menu adds convenience on behalf of the restaurant, particularly with the second type of QR menu. Because it inputs your order straight to their system. Possibly it's also to avoid human error in ordering, but personally I prefer the "repeating order" sequence from the waiter, as it feels more effective in confirming the order from both sides.

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I would add an example of a restaurant that I like to visit that had shifted to electronic ordering system but still not a hassle. Pizza Hut.

I've eaten at Pizza Hut many times post-pandemic, and I see they've implemented a decent mix of automation while not compromising the experience of eating out. They still give us physical menu, a couple pages of binded paper, still with yummy-looking images, clearly informed price included tax. We still had to call the waiter to order, but instead of paper and pen, they now input our orders in an assigned non-assuming smartphone. So the labor of "inputting order" is still ultimately by their side, and not ours. And there's still room for order modification, menu recommendation interaction, and repeating-order confirmation.

I think that's a good example, because if there's change in the ordering system, the trained waiters would be the most qualified to bridge between us customers and the management.

I would like to see opinions regarding why the QR code menu should persist. Sure, I am no restaurant owner, but as a customer who loves casual dining every once in a while, I would like to keep my experiences valuable, unbothered by the hindrance of smartphone-induced inconvenience. Sometimes you just don't buy a lot of mobile data package, you know. Sometimes you just want to enjoy your leisure time by eating out without getting distracted by your mobile phone. Sometimes you just want to disconnect for a bit.

I'm just wondering with the unpopularity of QR code menus, why are they still prevalent? Is it because we don't directly complain about it to the restaurant?

In the meantime, please bring physical menu back with all those mouthwatering images that make me want to buy them all. Make dining out great again.

Accountability

The narrative of writing one blog post per day is plenty exciting, but the execution isn't always so. The main problem would be that there is no accountability. Say that I accomplished one blog post per day for a week, then what? What difference does it make compared to, say, if I constantly post for a month?

In my ideal self there is the argument that writing everyday would help hone my skill as a writer, but there is no real proof as to how my skill improves. There is no standard set other than the amount of posts I create, and I might fall victim to the "quantity-over-quality" criterion. I can be putting out very boring posts but I wouldn't notice how boring it is because the standard is ultimately coming from myself - and who am I writing for? Precisely.

A few months back one of my friend and I embarked upon a mutual "accountability notes" journey. It's basically a shared diary in the form of a collaborative Google Docs file, where we both can write not just what happens on that day, but also whatever comes to mind. It was great for a while to kickstart the mood for writing, because there's the feeling that you're not alone or something akin to talking to a wall, but also there's variety in the pages as you're not the only contributor to the document.

Mostly I wrote about what happened in the day, or week, if I was too busy to write daily. There are also moments where I took class notes there, paraphrasing the business-language into my own rant-induced sentences. There wasn't any strings attached or agreement that we *have* to write there every day, or every week, or every month, but the existence of such document reminded me that I do have a place to write my rants other than this blog (If my blog looks like ramblefest already, just imagine what I write there).

The same cannot be said about this blog. So far I've been wondering who else is reading my blog other than my future self. Some friends here and there sometimes chat me up to let me know that they read my stuff (God bless y'all) and added their comments and discussion, and that's nice. But they don't come constantly, just like the stream of my writing. Maybe I do need to brush up on my writing discipline first before talking big about accountability, feedback, and such.

I've been thinking that I might need another thing like the "accountability notes" for my blog. I want to know whether there is a particular direction this blog is moving towards, or ideas of how I can improve my writing from an experienced mentor, or perhaps just something like a community that I can join. But you know me, I would still be selfish and write whatever I want to write, because that's ultimately the true nature of this blog. It's my own ramblefest. But maybe, just maybe, there is a platform where I can get ideas from here and there without being in a tight-knit commitment.

The Impostor

"Impostor syndrome is a psychological occurrence in which an individual doubts their skills, talents, or accomplishments and has a persistent internalized fear of being exposed as a fraud."

Impostor syndrome emphasized the definition upon skills, talents, and accomplishments, but I personally feel like my sense of impostor-ness (?) heavily resided on my identity.

I once had a job interview where the interviewer asked me "what do you think the ideal teacher is like?" (I was applying for a teaching job)  and "do you think you are that kind of teacher?". I responded accordingly and basically said no, I wasn't at all the ideal type of teacher that my standard set upon. Suffice to say I didn't get the job, but since then I kept asking myself about the ideal "me".

Who am I? What am I aiming for? Did I even want to teach for the rest of my life?

My first impression almost always subconsciously thought that everyone else knows what they're doing, and I'm the clueless sheep in this jungle of adulthood.

I met one cool person and I immediately put them on a pedestal. They mess up and that whole image is crumbling, in turn I no longer am fond of them. 

I always have this ideal image of someone else based on their identity role. Met a professor? Immediately my brain goes "whoa, what a genius!", which, of course not saying that it's wrong. But most times just because they're a genius doesn't mean they're perfect, you know. I learned rather recently that someone can be situated on a relatively high position, whether it's job or academia, and they're not always perfect.

We're only human, you know.

But there was a time when I was naive enough to divide the world between those "who knows what they're doing" adults and "who has zero clue of the world" misfits. And I used to lock myself in the latter box, finding solace in the echo chamber of emo jams. I used to think of those music as my friends, the sad lyrics and the words expressing their hollowness, since they resonate with me so much. "We don't belong" they chimed inbetween those pounding drums and guitar riffs.

I listened to those music on my Walkman during school lunch breaks. The white hijab covering the earphone wires from my ears to the phone on my chest pocket, world out, music in. If you asked me then what the ideal student is like, I would say it's totally someone like me. Achieving high grades, lots of friends, and... well, to me the ideal student just needs to get high grades. Overall that bar didn't cover more aspects like organizational skills, charisma and sports, but I did set high standard for one particular thing: grade. And I fulfilled that criteria without seemed like trying too much.

There are two takeaways from that moment: first, the standard itself is subjective and second, I was a very happy student.

I didn't even intend to be the achieving student from the start, but once I obtained straight As in my elementary school year, the momentum was established to keep moving towards that direction. And boy did I sprint without looking left and right. I was happy with myself particularly because I didn't see how I would be unhappy.

Looking back, I knew I did miss moments that make elementary school, middle school, and high school worthwhile. But I wasn't aware of those, so I was content. I remember that I got bullied by a particular boy during my elementary year, but I was so oblivious that I didn't even *know* I was bullied. I remember I missed out on the middle school after-graduation prom party (and basically my whole senior year) to attend a long quarantine for science olympiad, but I had good friends and academically achieving so it wasn't a big deal. Ignorance is bliss, ey?

High school times weren't even that memorable, only bits and pieces of memories and regret that I didn't pursue something other than academic. I figured that college times is where my sprint seemed to have passed the finish line and I had the moment of revelation as I take in what's surrounding me. The standards began to get higher - or should I say, broader?

What previously did not get under my radar began to manifest itself in front of me. Friendship. Romance. Communication. Interpersonal affairs that I wouldn't usually comprehend becoming hard to ignore. Hardships. Heartbreak. Feelings of insecurity and inadequacy.

I still had my weapon of high-grade exam score plutonium, but there was a sense of lost-ness. I no longer knew what I had to do, now that I'm at that stage. The accomplishments seemed futile (not trying to be ungrateful). Impostors' syndrome, now that I'm in the so-called nest of acadmic excellency.

Everyone seems to know what they're doing. Everyone seems to be doing great. Even if they're not, they still seem to have a sense of purpose, unlike me.

But little did I know that academic excellency does not equate perfection. Just because your classmate is a quantum mechanics prodigy, doesn't mean he can hold a conversation with you. Just because one of your colleagues is a great coder, doesn't mean he's not an asshole who wouldn't break your heart. Life began to take form in its imperfection, flawless foundation being wiped away.

During my post-grad study I've been encountering actual projects that make me realize that we're all ultimately humans. Professors also make mistakes. The important thing is how we learn from them. One of my friends told me that he found solace at the fact that even our supervisors (the PhD ones) are kinda winging it in their jobs. Projects are plenty and we only have 24 hours a day. Our brain needs energy and nourishment and refreshments. Helps are obviously needed.

It was recently that I learned to become human, to learn that others are human too. I found a... uh.... let's say, weakness of my own that is a struggle to treat, and my therapist told me to be more appreciative of myself. At first I was like, "what's there to appreciate?" since I wasn't as academically excellent as my past self. And that's exactly the problem. Do I have to be straight A student to love myself? The initial answer was "yes", but as I ponder the logic behind that answer, I knew that ultimately it's not right.

If you have to be a straight A student to love yourself, when is it going to end? What if I graduate and there is no longer straight As to gain? Would you stop loving yourself then? Or would you set yourself another high standard as a means to love yourself? The former happened to me. I stopped loving myself and it almost cost me my life. It was by surviving and moving forward that I found life only makes sense if you are kind to yourself, just like you would to others.

I learned that by allowing myself to sometimes get a C or B is how I can be truly free from the confine that my past self set for me. There was relief in knowing that the world does not end even if I failed one semester. And a little hint of sadness because I'm not the main protagonist of this life.

Maybe I can get a brighter glimpse of the future if I can keep being kind to myself. Reminding myself that just because I'm human and I'm prone to mistakes, doesn't mean that I don't deserve a job. Doesn't mean that I don't deserve a decent pay. Doesn't mean that I deserve to be a subject of abuse.

I must admit that my impostor syndrome is kicking in because I'm recently finished with my post-grad and now I'm looking for jobs. That one job interview would always ring inside me, "do you think you are the ideal kind of [human job]?"

I would have the answer ready by then.

Now What?

So. Uh. Long time no see.

It's been a while since I write here (deja vu right, I know). Things have been happening to me, and I've been happening to things. Some days are busier than others, and long story short, this blog hasn't really crossed my mind for quite a while.

It only occurs to me when everything cooled down. When the thesis defense ended. When the breathe of relief was sighed outside the fourth floor meeting room in Labtek XIX. When the last revision was sent. When the grade appeared on my academic transcript.

Now what?

It was supposed to be a breath of relief, but... in reality, there was numbness. To be frank, the numbness lasted longer than the joy. I was supposed to rejoice. Happy that it passed. But... not really. I mean, surely I was glad, but not *that* glad, you know?

It seemed like it happened too sudden. I felt like I could do better.

But that's just always my problem, isn't it? That feeling of constant inadequacy disguised as "perfectionism" or "idealism". Or perhaps those are also real, mixed and jumbled inside me to form a bundle of emotion I can't quite pinpoint.

Now what?

I don't really know what kind of answer I'm looking for right now. Is it the "what-is-next-for-me" type of "now-what" or "what-does-my-research-contribute-to" type? I suppose it's the former, because after all I am now emerging to the outside world, beyond the boundary of systematic academia world. Perhaps I could pursue more of those, but is it what I really need right now?

It's been almost two weeks since I began waking up wondering in the morning. It's a whiplash from the usual busy routine. Waking up without a sense of purpose is... familiar. It's what my past self had encountered for months, before the second academia phase kicked in. It's... not great. I mean, stressed out every day working on your thesis is unhealthy too, but it's a different ballpark when we talk about sense of purpose.

I have a lot of interests. A lot of things I want to do. But they're not specifically long-term. Only bits and pieces of activities that can be done in spare time. Or even, things that can occupy my spare time nicely. Such as writing a blog post like this.

I have ideas of what I want to write. To create. I think it's always been my calling. Whenever I'm left on my own, it always pops up on my mind. To write. To document the present so the future knows what's in the past. I just wish I can expand that intention towards something bigger than myself. So I'm not only writing for my selfish self. So that it contributes to something to someone else.

But I'm a simple girl. As long as there is one person appreciating my writing, I think I'll be content. I think that's the main reason I never intend to capitalize on my writing, because I never want to try to appease the market. I just want to write according to my selfish intention.

I want to write about A Thing purely because I'm interested in The Thing. If there is one other person who also likes The Thing and we can connect because of that, then that's cool! But otherwise, I would be making a billboard for myself. Advertising my past ideas to my future self.

So to answer the question "Now what?" I think I might say.... it's writing. It always has been.