Archive for June, 2009


Goodbye BBerry

Morning began as a challenge. I had difficulties waking up and dragging myself out of bed and, as a result, I missed the train by a minute and was forced to catch a cab again. After numerous interesting cab experiences, ranging from annoying to disgusted, I am really trying to limit my cab rides now. Nevertheless, I had no choice this morning. Luckily, I had a pleasant cab driver and I thought it would turn out to be a good day.

For three hours, we finished up the video critiques and role played systemic interventions. Despite this nagging, unexplainable sensation in the pit of my stomach, I decided to do the online final examination with a few classmates anyway. It was fairly easy and I finished it in an hour and a half. Coffee, a fellow classmate, offered to give me a ride home. The day appeared to remain pleasant.

30 minutes later I am at home. I decided to call Cupcakes as I haven’t talked to him for a while. I went to my bag to grab my phone and much to my surprise, it wasn’t there. Mild panic sank in. I dumped all the contents of my bag. Still nothing. I am now panicked. I looked for it around the apartment. Absolutely nothing.

My thoughts started racing. I’m trying to remember where I may have placed it or, in this case, misplaced it. The last time I had it was at the computer lab at the uni. For the next 10 minutes, I kept calling my phone. No answer. I called a cab…again…and headed to the school.

With the cab waiting for me downstairs, I ran up to the computer lab. It wasn’t there. No one noticed the phone. No one heard the vibrations. No one turned in a phone¬† at the security desk. Then I thought maybe I dropped it in Coffee’s car. I called him and asked him to check. Nothing. At this point, I only had 1 more thing to check.

I asked the cab driver to drop me off at the same spot where Coffee dropped me off. I got out of the cab and did a thorough inspection of the surroundings as a I retraced my steps back to the apartment complex and eventually to the apartment. Nothing. By now, it has been over an hour since I realized that the phone was missing. If I did drop it on the street across from the apartment complex, I knew I would not see it again. With the last ounce of hope I could muster, I called it again for 5 minutes. No one picked up. With a heavy heart, I called my phone company and reported my phone lost. My line is now suspended and I officially have no phone. All of Simon’s pictures are gone. Phone numbers, addresses, and email addresses have vanished. Personal emails and text messages are now privy to a stranger’s eyes. This upsets me. I am still upset. I am disappointed with myself. Granted, I never lost any cellphones in the 10 years I’ve owned them yet it still does not ease the disappointment and sadness. I really liked my bberry. I was planning on keeping it for a long time. I already miss it terribly. So long bberry. I hope to enjoy your company again soon.


Blog Vs Book

Beside my laptop sits the book shown above. I kept tossing and turning between continuing to read the book or writing on the blog. The minute I open the book I get lost in the author’s words. It’s been a while since I read a book that I have difficulties putting down. That’s exactly how it is with this book. So my compromise is to write a short post about the book…haha…kinda lame…but I don’t care…=)


RIP (Insert Famous Person)

Every time I hear about a famous person dying, I always do not know how to react. I can barely describe how I actually feel. It’s like I feel the sadness of the event without actually feeling sad. Unlike many people, I really cannot muster a tear over a famous person because I do not really know these people. It seems a bit illogical to me to cry over a stranger. I’ve always wondered if other people feel the same way I do.

Well, today I found out that Michael Jackson and Farah Fawcett died. Between the both of them, I can empathize more with Michael Jackson mourners than Farah Fawcett’s because I was an 80’s kid. I grew up listening to Michael Jackson. I even remember attempting the moonwalk. Certain childhood memories are linked to some of his songs. Nevertheless, I’m not sad. Once again, I recognize that this is a sad event. Nothing more…nothing less.

This brings me to this funny cartoon Mr Shell sent me.

How true about media coverage.



Over the past month and a half, my blog posting has been quite inconsistent along with reading my Google Reader feeds. I wrote about this issue recently; however, it was merely to explain my situation rather than be proactive. This week I decided to tackle a task that I have been unsuccessful at before. I will attempt to write on my blog at least 3 times a week for a month with hopes that this will become my minimum frequency of blog posting. This will be a real challenge for me as I have huge tendencies to quiet down and crawl into my “I don’t want to share anything” hole. In addition, I will also try to read at least 5 feeds every day from my Google Reader. Eventually, I will catch up and then adjust my amount appropriately depending on the average amount of feeds I get on a daily basis.

On a different topic, I just finished this book that I borrowed from the library. Yes, I am one of those people who borrow books for leisurely reading at the public library. It is an awesome book and I highly recommend it to everyone. The book was published in 2006 yet I never heard of it. My encounter with it was purely accidental. I’m glad that I did though. I even added it to my list of books to purchase. I’ve posted a picture of the cover to anyone interested.



In a couple of months, my first year as a counseling student will officially end. I know that I do have 2 more years before I technically graduate with an MA in Counseling yet I already feel like I’m somehow at a career crossroad. Let me explain.

My career path has not been as smooth as most people. It was plagued with uncertainties, indecisiveness, immaturities, and trials and errors. Don’t get me wrong…if I have to live my life all over again I would definitely do everything all over again. It made me who I am today. Nevertheless, this rough career path created certain crossroads during unconventional points in the journey so what I am going through now is not something new. Anyhooo…

Before I decided to enter my current program, I initially was in limbo with a different program all together. I had a supervisor, the willingness to relocate to work with said supervisor, a specific research topic I couldn’t wait to delve into, and, most of all, the eagerness to start this new chapter in my life. Sadly, my undergrad uni grading system was completely different from grad uni so after some of their mathematical conversions my gpa fell under the uni’s cutoff. I was seeing the compounding effects of my partying from my earlier undergrad years and my rebellious nonchalance to the culture of determining self-worth through grades and gpas. Yes, it wasn’t the smartest thing to do, but that is a post for another day. Well, the combination of my gpa being 0.2 less than the cutoff and a supervisor who wasn’t willing to fight for a student he already accepted resulted in me being in what they termed pre-masters. So….off I relocated, retook some courses I disliked to begin with, and worked at supervisor’s lab. At this point, I was disheartened and discouraged. I also was disappointed with the supervisor especially since I expected him to be like my mentor, who would’ve fought for me. Let me clarify at this point that I never expect people to fight battles for me. I would, however, would actually fight for a student that I know has potential and skills that I accepted her before the uni officially did. But then again, he’s not me nor is he my mentor so I moved on. I worked at his lab for a year and was still willing to continue my graduate studies with him the following year. This lasted until I learned his reason for not fighting for me. It had nothing to do with me. It was because one of his current graduate students was not performing as expected (aka slacking off to the point that the lab tech is doing majority of her research) and he was getting heat for her from the department head. This to me showed poor judgement and poor leadership on his part. Of course, there are other things, but I will not list every single one here. Suffice to say, after a year, I decided that I did not want to join his lab anymore.

The following year I worked full-time and took classes part-time while deciding the next step in my career. This was when I decided to pursue psychology as my career path. In addition, I opted for a terminal master’s degree since considering my age, I wanted to have that option. I enrolled in my current counseling program.

Now, almost a year into it and practicum being just around the corner I started thinking about the next step again. Should I apply to a phd program or should I just work after graduation? It may seem premature to many since I still have two years left; however, I want to be prepared for certain requirements such as GRE subject if I decide to apply next year. Professional schools for a Psyd are not really an option for me since I would need funding. My parents have decided that they will stop funding me after my masters. I already have taken out student loans so I do not want to be in huge debt when I get my doctorate. A part of me feels that I should just work and begin thinking about starting a family. Work would also be necessary to save for a wedding. However, another part of me is telling me to go do a phd while I still do not have a family and that family can wait. Many students have kids while doing their phd. This part poses a good argument especially in terms of internships. One must be able to have relocation flexibility to increase matching possibilities. Both sides have such solid arguments that for the first time in my life, I can actually say that I do not know what to do.


Post by email – FAIL

Ever since I switched from desktop to laptop, I have not been able to post as often primarily because I am in the process of rearranging the apartment to accommodate my laptop. I know it sounds a bit weird that a laptop is demanding space modification; however, it is quite necessary. The desktop table was the place that used to be where I would do my work. It was my area. Unfortunately, the transfer of desktop ownership included renouncing my primary usag eof the table too. Thus, I am now trying to establish a space I can relocate to.

Luckily, WordPress recently introduced the post by email feather so I opted to take advantage of this and, hopefully, I can keep up with the posting while still turning the apartment upside down.

*** Update ***

I compulsively checked the blog immediately after I sent the above post; however, much to my dismay, it was not showing up. Since I was being compulsive, I opted to sleep on it and check again today. Unfortunately, it still was not posted and, upon further investigation, I discovered that the post by email feature does not work with Gmail. Something to do with POP3 mail. I am not quite in the mood to figure this out just yet so I guess posting by email…for now…is a FAIL.


Piano Memory

Even from a very young age, I knew that my Mom loves the piano. She was always listening to her piano collection which ranged from classical pieces to renditions of theme songs. Unfortunately, my grandparents never nurtured creativity in the family. Their staunch beliefs on academic aspirations dictated the outcome of all their children. Any artsy activity was never encouraged. They believed that delving into nurturing one’s creative bone is a luxury that one can indulge in once they have achieved their respective careers. And there were no ifs and buts regarding the matter. As a result, my Mom never had piano lessons as a child so it was no surprise to me that she decided to enrol me in piano classes.

I was in fifth grade when I started my lessons. It made my Mom happy. She enjoyed knowing that I’m learning to play the piano. She made me practice purely because she wanted to listen to me play. Sadly, I was never good at it. I did not really have the passion for piano. I actually wanted to learn to play the saxophone instead of the piano. My Mom knew this, but she told me she could not find a saxophone teacher so I was stuck with piano. Deep down, I think she just really wanted me to play the piano. After two years of lessons, I gave up. I told her that I could not continue anymore. She was a little disappointed, but then she decided to teach herself¬† to play by using my books. It was obvious her heart was in it. I helped her learn the notes and with her dedication to practice my Mom eventually played the piano. And she was much better than me. I remember waking up certain Sunday mornings to her playing the Unchained Melody. A little morose for a wake up music, but it was nice to see her achieve what she has always wanted to do. Unfortunately, when we moved my parents decided to sell the piano because it was an inconvenience then. I know my Mom missed our piano. One day, I hope to buy her a piano so she can play again.


Error: Twitter did not respond. Please wait a few minutes and refresh this page.