April 17, 2007

It occurs to me that I’m extremely moody.  But that’s not the part that bothers me, it’s when I get stuck in a social encounter when it hits – thereby appearing bipolar, bitchy, quiet, curt, etc.  Most often, if I can leave (when there’s more than 2 people), I will.  While this may seem the source (or rather, nullify any) of my bemoaning how people don’t really know me, I doubt it is so proximal.   I do, oddly enough, find solace in reading random blurbs about the commonness of depression, social-isolation, and appearing aloof amongst graduate students.  I’m pinning it on grad studies since otherwise, or concurrently, I’m yet another diagnosis (I won’t venture here today though).  However, this doesn’t so much help when I’m reading about it from some random student-dude’s blog, an interview by a Prof in Helsinki, or another demystifying and demoralizing psych study (with recommendations to be more social!).  Hmphh. Well, I’d started this before… and worried about it and then stopped.  But here I am again, nonchalantly dropping hints that there is indeed a me you don’t know.  Should you happen upon my notes and read and have a bit of beef, well say so!  Shall I begin?  Most recently (and related to facebook),… I have enormous feelings of guilty after I (in my head) pretentiously want to demand that college “post grads” or professional schools (e.g. law school, med school, etc.) do NOT count as grad school.  Not to burst your bubble, or perhaps it’s my bubble, but the point is… what I consider grad school requires intellectual inquiry and invention – not memorizing and then practicing till you nail it in some (albeit very difficult) final.  To our Canadian credit, our university is not the equivalent of most
US colleges… but understandably (thanks) most ppl put college b/c they do realize it’s closer than grad school. 
 On the topic of school, intellectual, prestige and all that Schnaz, if you really knew me – you’d understand the conflicted way I rant about this.  Unfortunately, one of you once asked me: “do you look down on the working class?”, thus making it screamingly and painfully obvious you don’t.  

Anyhow, expect more agitation soon… oh I’m full of it (ha!) J


today, for the 4th time, i logged into the “new and improved” online application program that is supposed to let me apply to as many US schools of public health as i want, in one shot. 

however… if certain schools (read: none, except one) aren’t involved in this initiative, then the 17 page application doesn’t seem so worth it.  especially when 17 pages does not include the space required to enter every last item of your ‘experiences’ rather than a CV and letters of intent/programs of study/etc. aren’t included in the page count either. 

the good thing (for me at least) is that this isn’t an all-you-can-eat buffet, you pay for what you apply for – in my case, just one please!  and thank goodness it’s just one (for now) – dude!  who makes their deadline early december?!?!  answer: the ivey mofos – to separate the complaining, feeling-sorrow-for-herself, student-in-finals from the … huff! what’s the point?  getting back to those “research experiences” again, for the 5th time.

fraternizing with the folks

November 7, 2006

Posted on previous blog on August 12, 2006

fraternizing with the folks

the other day i went to mcD’s with the rental units with a pad of paper and a pen in hand to make a real attemt to explain to them what i do. for my father, this was more of a lesson about what i will not eventually become… that is, telling my dad that, ‘no daddy, your daughter is not going to be a doctor in the GP sense… no daddy, just because i want to get my doctorate that doesn’t mean i can or want to diagnose people.’

in total, 5 coffees, 2 egg mcmuffins, a muffin, 5 sheets of paper, and 3 pictograms later… ‘ga jia, whatever you do i don’t get but it’s ok… daddy and mommy support you’

fast forward 2 days… this morning:

daddy dearest asks me: “ga jia, how much more school you have… take so long!”

“well, probably another 3-5 years”, i reply while hacking at pork cutlets with him.

“why take so long? phd easy right?”

i look up at him, honestly hoping that he’s developed a sense of humor in English and is only teasing me. he’s not. and i don’t know how to tell him that it hurts that he thinks this school stuff is easy.

i recount this story to my brother who laughs and jokingly mocks my dad while he’s not there: “yeh sure dad, school just gets easier and easier”. he gets it – i think.

fast forward to dinner this evening:

i’m bitching about girls who only care about their appearance and daddy says: “what’s wrong with that? that’s better right?”

i look around the table for support… none. i want to scream now: ‘is that what you want!? then maybe you need a better social network with which to support your daughter who should have only been born to look pretty and marry rich!’

but i’m just hungry and cranky and i know my father doesn’t really mean this. something must have been lost in the translation…

and so, i plug in positives into my own re-translations, because i know from his actions that he doesn’t mean such things (mostly).