Touch Wood
Not that wood, you perverted shit. Am talking about the kind that grows you get from trees.
That aside, I think that I'm rather superstitious, in a Cina sort of way.
Numbers play an important role in Chinese society, belief-wise. Businessmen uncles shell out tens of thousands of ringgit bidding for a nice license plate number, thinking it will avert all accidents and enable their cars to fly, Batmobile-style.
Addresses. A house with a "good" number sells for a higher price, developers knowing full well that Chinese buyers will happily part with thousands more for it. Houses number 14, 24, etc. will most probably go to an Encik Ibrahim or a Mr. Vellu. And fair game at that.
Countless other examples exist, influencing decisions in areas ranging from gambling to gift-giving in the festive months and beyond.
A brief lesson in Cina beliefs. Generally, 8 is the uber Chinese number. It translates to mean prosperity, riches, success.. and all shit positive. 9, 3, 13 (in stark opposition to Western superstition), and 6, among others, are also kickass. The number 4, or anything with a 4 in it is the ultimate no-no.
So.
The number that was given to me when I enrolled into UCD, the number that was to be my student identification forthwith, was a horrible, insanely fucked up number. Not only did it have many 4s in it, but to make matters worse, to undoubtedly purport its evil intent, the 4s were strategically and perfectly arranged with other so-called black numbers. They strung together to say..
Definitely definitely die die.
Cibai.
I remember actually going to the admissions office, requesting a change of the number that I believed was going to cause me to fail all my exams, contract lung disease, testicular cancer and develop homosexual tendencies.
So I was stuck to it, and will be until 2008. I have yet to develop testicular abnormalities, nor have I failed a paper (touch wood touch wood touch wood), but I have a nagging suspicion that those numbers are fucking up my life in their own discreet Cina ways.
Fast forward to now.
I've just received my examination number (for purposes of seating, etc.) for the coming summer papers. Wahey, pop the Dom, it's a good number! The 5 digits hold hands and sing out, in crystal clear voices, cutting through the evil night..
That aside, I think that I'm rather superstitious, in a Cina sort of way.
Numbers play an important role in Chinese society, belief-wise. Businessmen uncles shell out tens of thousands of ringgit bidding for a nice license plate number, thinking it will avert all accidents and enable their cars to fly, Batmobile-style.
Addresses. A house with a "good" number sells for a higher price, developers knowing full well that Chinese buyers will happily part with thousands more for it. Houses number 14, 24, etc. will most probably go to an Encik Ibrahim or a Mr. Vellu. And fair game at that.
Countless other examples exist, influencing decisions in areas ranging from gambling to gift-giving in the festive months and beyond.
A brief lesson in Cina beliefs. Generally, 8 is the uber Chinese number. It translates to mean prosperity, riches, success.. and all shit positive. 9, 3, 13 (in stark opposition to Western superstition), and 6, among others, are also kickass. The number 4, or anything with a 4 in it is the ultimate no-no.
So.
The number that was given to me when I enrolled into UCD, the number that was to be my student identification forthwith, was a horrible, insanely fucked up number. Not only did it have many 4s in it, but to make matters worse, to undoubtedly purport its evil intent, the 4s were strategically and perfectly arranged with other so-called black numbers. They strung together to say..
Definitely definitely die die.
Cibai.
I remember actually going to the admissions office, requesting a change of the number that I believed was going to cause me to fail all my exams, contract lung disease, testicular cancer and develop homosexual tendencies.
"Yes, can I help you?"Pai seh, balls.
"Is it possible to change my student number?"
"Erm.. I'm sorry but that can't be done."
"Damn. Lemma puki chau cibai!!! Lu ai wa si ah?" (spoken very very softly..)
"Why do you want to change your number?"
"Nevermind then. Thank you." *quickly leaves*
So I was stuck to it, and will be until 2008. I have yet to develop testicular abnormalities, nor have I failed a paper (touch wood touch wood touch wood), but I have a nagging suspicion that those numbers are fucking up my life in their own discreet Cina ways.
Fast forward to now.
I've just received my examination number (for purposes of seating, etc.) for the coming summer papers. Wahey, pop the Dom, it's a good number! The 5 digits hold hands and sing out, in crystal clear voices, cutting through the evil night..
Definitely prosper, forever and ever.
My night was made. Those words surely counter and nullify the effects of my definitely-definitely-die-die student number, right? That alone gave me enough confidence to stop the studying I was doing and come online to post. Fuck books. I'll get first class honours by just signing my name onto the exam sheet.
I'm rather superstitious, no?
I'm rather superstitious, no?
This entry was posted by tsh, on
Saturday, April 23, 2005.
You can bitch back.
say it