Who am I?

To all of those people who read the title and thought that this must be one of those soul-searching and seriously philosophical posts, sorry to disappoint you, but I guess I'm not that type. To those of you who thought the same and exited, geeez... we need more patience, don't we? To those of you who are reading this and thinking, 'Oh my God! Not another one of her weird posts', Phbbt to you.

This post has to do with my "professional me". Or, well, since I don't seem to be having much of a profession at the moment, the aspiring professional in me. (Please note AT THE MOMENT in earlier sentence. I am merely unemployed by choice. It's not like people won't employ me or anything. Really.) (By the way, have I coined a new phrase? Unemployed by choice. :D) (I ramble too much, don't I?) (Do these thoughts inside parenthesis irritate you?) (Have you forgotten what I was on about yet?) (Are you wishing I've forgotten too?) (No such luck!) (Muahahaha).

The aspiring professional in me? Hmmm... then I am thinking - do I aspire to be the professional I was trained to be and am going to talk about now? Well, I seriously don't know... but that's not what this is about. OK, ok, I guess you must all be going - Get on with it now!!! So I will.

I've studied Psychology for five years of my life. That makes me a psychologist - with a specialisation in counselling. Now the point of this post is -- that people have so much trouble understanding what exactly a psychologist does. (Ahem. So do I sometimes... but then those are the philosophical things I am NOT writing about, y'know.) (Or maybe those thoughts are plain dumb, but... back to topic NOW.)

Scenario 1: Starring (?) old elderly aunt/grandmother's sisters / most old ladies above the age of... say, 40, and yours truly. My relatives inform the visitors that I am a Psychologist. Instant reaction = wow. And their heads swivel around to gape at me. Mouths slightly open, slack-jawed... you get the picture. (Right at that moment, how I wish I could have grown a couple of horns or tentacles or something.) Then they say something along the lines of, "Oh! That means you can read my mind." Accompanied with a nervous giggle. Then she, sometimes a he too, avoid me crazily everytime I am in the same room as them and when I am there, they speak guardedly, darting inconspicious (only to them) looks at me through the corner of their eyes. Excuse me, but I am not God, even thought I'd like to be. So how the heck can I read all their dirty thoughts? (Dirty 'cos if they were not dirty, then why would they be scared? :p) But this reaction is fun. Can play with it lots. :D

Scenario 2: They inform them that I am a Psych... Reaction: Instantly come and sit next to me and give me their hand, palm facing upwards. "When will I get a job/get married/get rich/whatevertheywant?" Oh my God! What the hell? I am a psychologist. Not one of those fakes who sit on the pavements with a parrot and a deck of cards!! I mean, please. Get a life! Sigh. This reaction is the most insulting really. After studying all those years, they equate you with an illiterate saffron wearing weirdo, and your heart sinks. Sinks, I tell you. Drowns.

Scenario 3: "She's a psych..." Reaction: "So what do you do exactly?" This one is so... well, just so something. I mean, I've been struggling to define what I do for God knows how long and this person comes and asks that to me to my face. If I wasn't such a strong person emotionally, I'd have a nervous breakdown or a fake epileptic fit right there in front of him. This question is right up there with "What's the meaning of life? Why are we here?" It basically has no right answer which I can reply with in one line. And I really don't think the question-asking-person wants to be saddled with a lengthy, winding answer, after which he still is not sure about what I do. So just let it be already.

Scenario 4: After being informed of my Psychology infliction. Reaction 4: "Oh! I have this cousin / neighbour / mother's second cousin's wife's neighbour's far off relative who is mentally retarded. Why does he bang his head against walls / throw tantrums / keep staring at one place for hours?" In other words, the person is trying to ask me - why does he behave like he's mentally retarded? Hello! Missed the bulletin, didn't you, aunty?

Scenario 5: "She's a ... " Reaction: "That's interesting." Then they ignore you for the next two hours and you're wondering what category they fall in. Then they come and sit next to you... "You know, I was wondering... I mean, you're a psychologist and all... so you must be intelligent. You know, my daughter, Blank, she has such a big problem. I mean it must be her age or something, but you know she watches so much TV and doesn't study/ doesn't cook... And then she talks to boys." The list goes on indefinitely. Translation - She isn't the bloody puppet I want her to be. Ultimately it comes down to, "Will you talk to her?" Hmmm... let's see. Now this is so much like you meet a heart specialist and ask him to check out your heart because it's been beating a bit weirdly for the past few days. Now would you do that? No! I mean, how can you remember all the problems you're having with your daughter only when you meet a psychologist? And please, what will I be able to do in one talk?

I'm done ranting. Really. Enough of this now. There are people who react differently too, like people who are genuinely interested, but right now I've worked myself up into righteous anger + indignation, so enough.

Oh, and as a last note, psychologists are people who help you help yourself. They are not miracle workers. They are not magicians. They are not crystal ball owners. They're just normal humans who are trained to help you with your problems and who make you comfortable with life in all its complexity. If you're still thinking what exactly psychologists are, think of us as angels... ;)

For Sale!!

Blog for Sale

Created on 11th May, 2004, the blog has enjoyed a pampered life, with posts almost daily when it was new... but the frequency waned over time as the owner got busy with real life intruding on her cybertime. Loved and cared for by its writer, this blog has now achieved the enviable poistion of the most visited blog on Fullhyd. Located in a prime location on Fullhyd's bloggers' page, it has enjoyed a lot of popularity and the current owner wishes that it will continue to do so under the new management. It has not been used or abused much - unlike the blogs which have N number of posts, Weird and whacky just has a comfortable 23 (24 if you count this ad). Not too many and not too less.

Weird and Whacky has a beautiful view over aloque's blog, as it overlooks poetry, philosophy, tidbits about the city and random bits of madness evolving out of aloque's fingers as he tip-taps on his keyboard under the influence of godknowswhat. It also boasts close proximity to dessert rose's she, herself and her first blog where you can take a walk around KBR with Dr. Sheila-like creatures or just wander along with a cloud and read its love story.

The blog itself is a pleasing dark green colour, with a bulb in the upper right corner, which has never been replaced yet and is expected to give years of service. A consistent font (Times New Roman) and colour (blue) on a white background has been the same throughout, making it a great brand identification device.

Weird and Whacky also has a whole list of established patrons, readers and even fans who visit the blog regularly even when the business of posting is slow. This is attested to by the figures which say that a total of over 800 hits had occured AFTER the last post had seen the relative light (or dark) of the cyberworld. The owner is very sorry that she has not managed to garner hateful comments. To her immense disappointment, there has been no one who posted comments posing as 'Aran's fan' in all of the two and a half months the blog has been in existence. (Ohh and this is also the right place to mention that Amita has her fan who is single-mindedly devoted to her blog, reads each entry and then disses her. That is what I call true worship. Aran does not have anyone like that, unless you count Anoop, who just disses Aran, not the blog, but then you can't count Anoop. Anoop is just... well, not countable, totally unaccountable.)

The blog in question also has a list of favourite links chosen carefully by the owner over time. A special mention is made of the last four links, of which the owner is incredibly proud and which raise the blog's value many times over.

The current owner, Aran, vouches for the satisfaction and feeling of well-being that this blog has given her, not to mention the sudden and spectacular increase in her IQ. In an interview which she gave, she has referred to it as "my baby" and "the most exciting thing in my otherwise worthless life" which is high praise indeed. (Full transcipt of the interview coming soon!) Apart from the above mentioned qualities, the blog can be a jewel in the crown of any blogger. Aran says her social life on the internet has grown by over 85% since she has started blogging on FH. When we asked her about her real life, she started crying... which led to the termination of the interview as a heart-broken female is not something our correspondents are equipped to handle.

Please email for appointment to view the premises. The price is negotiable and all Aran asks is that Weird and Whacky should get a loving home and a new owner who cares for it as she has.

From Hero to Zero

In spite of the crappy title (which sounds like a really bad Mithun Chakraborty movie) that I've managed to think up for this post, I'll go ahead with writing it without any embarrassment whatever. Yes, some of you might think I've lost it, and perhaps I have.

The topic of this post is role models. Or rather, being one. When you're the eldest in your generation, you naturally are expected to forge new pathways and set new limits, surpassing those of the generation which has passed. (For example, if your father got 56% in his tenth board exam, you get 75%. That way.) Here, I am the eldest one and I thought I had done my duty with the utmost reverence and perseverance, smile on my face in the face of adversity and all that. But recently, I've seen my younger cousins bounding across the limits I've set. The goals I've reached are now just a rest stop for them.

It wasn't that long ago when I had been on a pedestal. All the words coming out of my mouth were listened to with an enraptured expression, sometimes even repeated in an awed voice. Take this for example:

Characters: my cousin who is six years younger to me and I.

Scene 1: I was in the 7th or 8th standard and we were having a discussion about what everyone wanted to be when they grew up. I said I wanted to be a vet. (That was because I loved animals and didn't know that I had to take chemistry in junior college to acheive that goal. When I came to know about the chem, the love of animals understandably went down a bit.) Anyway, I said I wanted to be a vet then. Little, cute cousin asked me what that was. I said it's an animal doctor. Instant widening of eyes and she is looking at me like those weirdo devotees look at their sadhu baba. (I know that's such a yuck comparison, makes me think of myself in flowing saffron with a beard.) But anyway, the point here is she thought I was the coolest thing on earth. (Ok, the devotees do not know the meaning of COOL, so scrap the comparison and let's get on with this). Then, a pause and she says she wants to be a vet too. I was bowled over. I mean, what's more flattering than that? Of course, I did the gracious 'Oh no, you still have a lot of years to go before you decide... you might want to have your own goal.' speech at that time, but I was secretly thrilled. Who wouldn't be?

Now cut to a few years later... scene 2: Cousin stays over at my house and we have a heart to heart. I am, well, grown up and she has just passed her 10th standard. She tells me about the guys in her life. First, I am shocked. Think, she is too small for all that. Then it sinks in, thankfully I make none of the 'you're too young for guys' comments, and then I feel honoured. I mean, she trusted me enough to come and share that with me. Ego swelled to burst point.

Cut to a few days earlier: Scene 3: I enter cousin's house and we have a little chit chat about each others lives. Then she goes-- "Why haven't you filed your nails? They're looking so bad." After a while - "You really need to change your hairstyle." Later - "Don't you use any moisturiser?"

How did this happen? Sometime, when I wasn't paying attention, I moved from somebody she looks up to, to somebody she can look down her nose at. While I was strutting and doing the elder sister stuff, my younger sis grew up and I didn't even notice.

I want my weirdo devotee back.

Surprise!!!!!

By definition, surprise means:

1. To encounter suddenly or unexpectedly; take or catch unawares.
2. To attack or capture suddenly and without warning.
3. To cause to feel wonder, astonishment, or amazement, as at something unanticipated.

That is courtesy www.dictionary.com. The highlights are mine though. Please take a few moments to think about the highlights. There's a reason behind making those words bold. Read all those reasons. They play a part in my life and I am going to elaborate how in just a moment. Err... I think you can safely skip over definition 2. I don't think I am going to be attacked or captured anytime soon, (but then that's what I think. If someone was going to catch me by surprise, I wouldn't know it now, would I?)

Now, in contrast to the definitions above, I was informed yesterday, that I was going to get a surprise tomorrow. A surprise, my dear friends, is not supposed to be known beforehand. You can't tell someone, "Hey! I'm going to surprise you." It ceases to be a surprise. It says right there on that dictionary site!

And I, by nature, am a curious person. Yes, yes, I know all those things about curiosity killing cats and all, but I cannot help it. If someone tells me half of something I am itching to know, I get consumed by thoughts of that thing day and night and morning and evening and afternoon and... you get the point. It's a disease. It's a curse. It's something I want to get over, but can't. :(

So, since yesterday, I've been obsessing on the fact. What will it be tomorrow? Will I like it? Will it be _________? (fill the blank with a thousand and one different things I have thought about since yesterday). And now there still are about 22 hours before I come to know what it is.

How mean can they be? Why did they have to mention the surprise if they weren't going to tell me? NO! The anticipation thing doesn't even begin to answer that question. I do NOT want to anticipate things. Anticipation is about things you know, not about things you don't know. And please, just take it from me, I am NOT an 'anticipation' person. I am the 'would like to know right now, thank you' person. And if they don't tell me after I bug them for half an hour, I might even turn into 'sicko, just tell me, @%#$%' (followed by more expletives) kind of a person. And then, if they don't tell me still, I turn into the 'Ok, I'm just going to sulk' person. I went through the whole routine yesterday, and still didn't come to know what it was. Not even a hint. MEAN, I tell you, mucho mean. (tee hee, that's spanish I think. Makes me feel cool to write that. ;)

I'm writing this to distract myself from mulling over the fact. And to make some of the frustration go away. It's not a nice feeling, this 'anticipation'. I was told I will feel good when I finally get it after the anticipation. But what if I get disappointed? I mean, I've been thinking about this for so much time now, so it had better really thrill me when I get it, or I might turn into a furious, sputtering 'Stupid Cow! You wanted me to anticipate THIS?!!!!' kinda person and launch myself at my friends' throat.

And well, I still don't feel good after getting all this out of my system. What do you think it can be...? Aaaarrrrgggghhhhhhhh!!!

The Mmmuahhh Science

Recently read an article on MSN on why people close their eyes while kissing. There's actually a guy who researched it. Yae Muan Ching Sum Ting. He is from Singapore. No, that's not the reason for either the perversion or the research, it's just to explain his name (which I forgot and then invented here, but then all those oriental people have the same kinda names anyway).

Oriental scene.
You: Hai Chhoo!
Five oriental men, simultaneously: Yes?
You, amazed: Err... I sneezed. Pardon me.
Men: Sorry san.
You: Ahuh! No problem.
And you still can't figure out what happened.

Anyway, back to topic; what this Singaporean man found out was that people close their eyes while kissing because:

1. They overload their senses. With the kissing going on, looking at the kissee, with all the kissing sensations, well, all over your body, you want to umm... stop the eyes from overloading your senses with other images. You want to concentrate on just the kiss.

Sounds nice. Makes sense. (To brains like mine. Hehehe.)

But then I read further, and he says it may be because:

2. Vision theory. This says that when one kisses, the blurred and three-dimensional figures of the person whom you're kissing make him look, well, to put it in my own words, not worth kissing.

Well, didn't quite believe this, will have to try this one... (Kiss with eyes open, see blurred man --> Oh my GOD! Get off me! *push, run for life* result: deep psychological scars) :D

Reading further, he said it might be due to another reason:

3. Modesty. They feel shy while kissing and so the closing of the eyes is an effort to ward off embarrassment, preserve privacy.

Okay, could buy this. Yep, people are shy.

But you know what amazed me? This guy, he probably got a grant ( =lots of money) to research why couples close their eyes while kissing, and he just comes up with a bunch of guesses which I might be able to tell him if I thought hard enough. I mean, how hard is it to come up with these things? When you research something, don't you come up with something new, something worth spending all the money on? ONE explanation rather than three 'might be's. Something which justifies your sitting and watching all those couples kissing each other with their eyes closed?

W-A-I-T A M-I-N-U-T-E!!!!! Watching couples kissi... Now if that isn't... WOW! Ahem.

Enlightenment. :D

It isn't such a waste after all. To Mr. Mei Jus Wau Ching, that is.