Me, Myself, and Psychology

Me, myself, and psychology:

- An internship for Seminar in Psych Services
- Psych Collective event-planning and communications
- Psych Convention e-mail correspondence
- figuring out which MA program to apply to (Educational Psych concentrating on Learning Theories or Program Evaluation? At Hunter or at Touro? Or should I just go with Speech Language Pathology??)
- figuring out when to apply to aforementioned MA programs (for Fall 2012 or Fall 2013?)
- Job-searching

Thank goodness I have a writing journal to keep me calm, cool, and collected (for the most part). Having said that, I need to write more posts with actual substance in them, rather than just checklists and verbal spews of messy poetry and purple prose. I need to get back on track.  I'm not myself without my writing.

Yup. The plot is TBD.

Poetic Prose: The Seemingly Nonsensical Logic of My Disquieted Mind

So many thoughts lingering in my mind, at the tip of my tongue, waiting for my lips to form the words that would breathe the sounds to life. I'm living in a mess of indigos and violets, my poetry blurring into my prose. I haven't felt this way about writing in a long time.

How does one convey emotion through images, rather than merely tell?

Perhaps that's precisely what has been troubling me about my writing. I have the paintbrushes, the paints, and the canvas. Perhaps I need to trade in these old specs for a new set of lenses. Maybe I just need to hone my brush strokes. Or maybe...

Maybe I just need to get my hands to stop shaking.

I flip through old diaries, the paper cracked and crisp betwixt my fingers, until I feel peeled and distant from the teenage girl who authored them. I slam each diary shut. I wish for a furnace, but burning these well-worn leaves won't stamp out the invisible imprints that the past has branded in my mind. But that teenage girl, the one who bared her ideas on those personal pages, will forever remain a part of me. She's grown up and she's moved beyond the silly narration of those pages (I can only hope).

I stare at empty pages as my thoughts dance in circles, waiting for my voice to give them weight. Instead, they linger, waiting for an unassuming passerby to catch the barely audible whisper.

So this is my journal of discontent, my heart's manifesto, the seemingly nonsensical logic of my disquieted mind.

Clearly, I still have a lot of figuring out to do. I won't cross my fingers, though. I need to write.

False Starts & Indefinable Fresh Beginnings

False starts and fresh beginnings. We've all had our fair share of those.

Just when I think that things are finally falling into place, life shifts and I'm thrown against a corner with the breath knocked out of me and my heart making a break for it. The problem is, my heart's got nowhere to go. The exact direction has yet to be determined.

The words escape me. What was I thinking? Why did I say that? I can't take it back. Did he really mean what he said? The part about me being a "worthwhile challenge"? I can't for the life of me, fathom why.

All I did was paint the world the way I saw it. The way I dream it, sing it. Live it. The way I twist my doubts, wring them in my hands and set them free, turning them into hope. Hope for the better, hope for the right answers, hope for the possibilities, hope for the future. All this, my odd and misplaced philosophy. Yet I never once considered myself to be a philosopher. I'm just someone who likes to think.

Am I really that strange? Am I really that crazy for thinking that I can live my life outside the confines of a  black-and-white box? Am I foolish to believe that I have the freedom to choose which combination of right ideas will be the hues that color my world? Am I naive to believe that I am the master of my doubt, that I can bend my doubt like a helium balloon and set it free so that it does not stomp on my free-spirit?

Sometimes he talks a mile a minute, and I'm still hung over the first words that left his lips.

I don't know why I bother so much.

Arguing in circles. There's a reason why they're pointless. You forget why you cared so much in the first place. Taking a stand and then you forget your purpose as you trip over the semantic wires you used to tie up your argument. You then end up tying your own tongue with words you hope you won't have to eat later.

In the middle of washing dishes, in the midst of reorganizing my bookshelves, in the hours I spent at the laundromat watching the clothes spin in repeated circles, I felt it: that first inkling, that indefinable emotion, the way my heart slowed down for just a tiny beat the moment the thought surfaced in my mind: it bothered me.

It bothers me that I care.

It bothers me that I'm even writing this, wondering why he's even got me thinking about questions that I thought I answered long ago based on the premise that you can't always ask the same question twice. Situations may be similar, but there will always be the nuances, the subtleties that people often tend to look over and forget. There are black-and-white issues, but there aren't always clear-cut answers. The circumstances determine the form the answers will take, so I have come to believe, and continue to believe despite his prior efforts to change my mind.

Why did he want to change my mind so badly anyway? It bothers me to think that he cares about what I think. It bothers me even more to think that I could be completely off the mark in making this assumption.

I don't want to think that this is another one of those false starts, another one of those foolish moments when my imagination usurps my reason. It's a scary thought, one that leaves me awake at night, awaiting the next day with breathless anticipation.

Do dare give this thought, this breathlessness, weight? Do I dare utter the words out loud, write it down on paper, record it into this media for all the world to see?

I'm not sure if I will just yet.

But I'm not going to cross my fingers or twiddle my thumbs while the hours pass. Instead, I think I'll reorganize my closet. Read a book. Take a walk. Write some more crappy poetry until I finally get the words right. Maybe then I'll have some more answers, whatever form they shall take. Maybe then I'll finally step up with the courage to say the very words I dare not speak.

I'd like to believe that it's just the sun rising, gently brushing new colors onto a fresh beginning. Whatever this is, whatever it turns out to be, I hope it's all for the better.

Maybe it won't even bother me at all anymore, and I won't mind so much that I care. This should be interesting.

Esc

I think I've grown a little rusty in writing poems. I just hope I can learn a few more tricks and techniques once I take that poetry workshop this semester.

Until then, this is one of the things I have to work with, called "Esc." Feel free to be as honest as you want to be and let me know what you think of it. Writing is a learning process, after all. Thanks!

"Esc"

The never knowing

The moment you shake your leg, tap your foot,

Rake trembling hands through your hair, 

Teeter in your seat

Wonder if the message you sent

Ever reached the inbox

"Delivered," your screen reports

Yet you feel anything but saved

"Delete" you want to press,

But you can’t backtrack to that space

Shifting restlessly

So you go to your bed and lie in it

Sleep, that natural route of circumvention,

When one drinks dreams from that cup called denial

You never authored anything

Your fingers never touched that keyboard

Your prints aren't etched between each binary-embedded word

Each invisible pixel between the spaces of each

Letter you wish you’d never typed

The only thing retracted:

The only thing that ever mattered and meant the world

And even when the sunlight spills through the window and

Hits the speckled eggshell walls of your room

You’re sitting up, listening to your lungs expand and collapse,

Watching the shadows rise and ebb as the

Reasons dance around and around, and

Once again elude you

Say Goodbye and Embrace the Change: Hello, 2012

Why, hello there, familiar strangers. Yet another chapter has closed as we now ready our pens to write a fresh new page.

2011 was definitely a year of change for all of us. As I sit here trying to think back to all that’s happened, I’m struggling to find the right words to string together to make sense of everything – the good, the sad, the bad, and the downright ridiculous. The images of 2011’s major events blur in a swirly haze in my mind: the passing of influential public figures who contributed to the arts and to technology, the opening of the Ground Zero memorial, the defeat of despotic leaders, the safe return of our troops, the wedding of a royal prince who found his princess, and a woman who’s famous for being famous somehow managed to get married and divorced within 72 days while also raking in at least $18 million. Of course, this doesn’t cover half of the things that happened in the past year, but it serves to depict how oddly scary and yet wonderful our world has become thus far.

Personally, I never actually thought that this year would truly bring change to my life. Sure, I made a list of resolutions for myself – that clichéd list of items that we’re never sure we intend to keep. But resolution lists won’t always help determine your future for you. Change is inevitable, but it’s up to you to decide how much you’re willing to embrace its unpredictable winds. 

Things I that never expected would happen, but did:

• I never expected to break out of my socially awkward shell, but somehow I managed to get over it and find the confidence to talk to new people. Granted, I still have some fears, but I learned to stop letting most of them get the best of me.
• I never expected to gain more insight about my career goals from completing an internship last summer and learn some valuable and translatable job skills, but I’m glad that I did. Hopefully, I'll find a job at a nonprofit organization and help others using my knowledge of psychology.
• I never thought that my family and I would move to a new address, but it’s happened. Despite the slight disruption it caused in my studies and in my social life, I’m slowly getting used to our new place. Plus, it’s warm and cozy.
• I never expected that I would actually take a leadership position in one of the undergrad clubs at my college, but here I am working closely with the other club officers planning exciting new events for the Spring 2012 semester.
• I never expected that I would get a host of new ideas for writing projects, even when I haven’t intensively worked on my novel in months because of college. I never expected that my first rejection letter would sting so much at first, but it’s actually made me more determined than ever to become a more effective writer. Sometimes the most humbling of experiences can motivate you to pursue your goals with more passion.

As for my 2012 resolutions, I’m going to keep it simple: I’m going to try to live each day like it’s my last.

This means that I’m going to try to be a good daughter, a good older sister, and a good friend. I’m going to compile recipes in a scrapbook with my sisters, and we’re going to learn how to cook new recipes. I’m going to view my world from different angles, and I’m going to create art out of it, even if I have rudimentary photography skills. I’m going to listen to new and upcoming music artists. I’m going to branch out and read philosophies I’ve never read before, even if doing so sometimes makes me want to throw the book against the wall. I’m going to explore the science fiction and fantasy genres more, and I’m going to do more historical research to further develop my characters and get that novel completed. I’m going to walk around my beloved New York City and I’m going to rediscover its hidden treasures amid both the glitz and the grit. I’m going to travel. I’m going to write poetry, and goddamnit, I’m going to sing my heart out.

I’m going to take all the lessons I’ve learned from my mistakes and with these, I’m going to close my eyes and take a deep breath. I’m going to open my eyes, my heart, and my mind. I will start anew.

Though the Mayan calendar ends in the year 2012 and people fret about the implications, I’m actually not too worried about it. The advent of 2012 is not the harbinger marking the end of the world, nor is it simply the end of another epoch. It's a new beginning. Every beginning has its uncertainties, but it's this very ambiguity that also gives rise to hope.

With the arrival of 2012, we raise our proverbial hats to the prospect of a prosperous, healthy, and joyous year. We look forward to the promise of a better future and compose lists of resolutions – that clichéd list of items that we’re not sure we intend to keep. We often criticize others for breaking their promises. Yet I wonder… Can we truly keep our own promises to ourselves?

I'll close this post with a song by Joy Williams.

Have a happy and healthy start to a new year, dear friends. 

This is your genesis. ;)

The Neophyte

Here is the poem I mentioned in the previous post, the one inspired by the music I was listening to the night I first started writing it. After many edits and revisions, I think I've finally got it. The most recent version is the one you see below. I tried to incorporate the use of more concrete images to give the words a life and personality all their own. Hopefully, I accomplished that. 

That's where you come in, dear reader. 

If you're feeling up to it, I'd love to know what you think. Be as constructively critical as you want to be, as I'm thinking of submitting it to a student publication at my college by the end of this month. And now, without further ado...

“The Neophyte”

He thought himself a neophyte intellectual who lacked

The prerequisite pretension

Strumming his fingers through mental chords

Striking up a match,

Shaking jolts through dormant lords,

Inciting the vocal

Fuel of a generation

He played them all with his charisma,

Leaving them breathless,

Leaving them blinded,

Rapt by the rampant drumming and

Wondering after the true charlatan

He struck up a conversation

Summoning up his charm,

His weapon his gentle persuasion

As he blithely blew his game plans

Into the seamless curve of Gale’s ear,

Knowing full well that she’d leave him

Winded, shooting the breeze about

His wounds

Sunk beneath his psyche

She was half-tempted to grab the spade,

Twice-enticed to forge her verbal blade,

Deciding at last to pick up the scalpel

And knit her way through the fibers

Cloaking his core

Unwinding, testing out the theory of

How long until he cracks

And shows her she’s more

Than just a constellation in his rose-tinged sky

But she refrains, restrains

Chooses to smile and feign indifference

To his mad scheming

As her analytical wits crackle with

The spark that started it all,

The spoken verse that struck a chord

And cursed her with the scalding imprint of

His asymmetrical smile

Burned somewhere in the folds of her brain

And all she can think to say was DAMN IT.

Moving in the Middle of the Semester

Hello again.

Life has been crazy lately. For one thing, my family and I moved to a new apartment three blocks away. It's a little stressful right now trying to figure where all our belongings are located. Let me just say that proper labeling goes a long way. My parents didn't do a splendid job of it since the movers were already there taking our furniture out of our old apartment, so we couldn't find most of our stuff until we opened up random boxes and started unpacking things at the new place. It's a little further away from the subway, but I like our new street -- it's quiet enough and quaint enough that you can take a stroll through the neighborhood when you need to clear your head and think. Plus, it's only a block away from the laundromat, so weekend chores shouldn't be as difficult as it was before.

As for school... it's a struggle. Subjects are getting more difficult, and the course requirements are demanding. I have a group project and four research papers due by next month. I just hope I can still keep my head up from drowning in stress. Yet even through the all-nighters and the caffeine-infused study sessions, I'm still willing to embrace the challenges that the future may hold.

I haven't had much time to devote to my novel-writing because school and family has kept me busy, but I did write a poem late one night. It's amazing how music can inspire you to do something creative. While listening to my favorite stations on Pandora radio, I felt that all-too familiar itch to write. Words were rearranging themselves in my head, mixing themselves up with familiar lyrics, and creating new phrases I didn't ever want to forget. So I took another stab at writing a poem. It's a little different from my earlier stuff, but I'm glad that my writing is heading towards a new direction. I like to think it's progress.

I may have to read this book.

For now, I'm still reorganizing and figuring things out in my life. I'm not sure where I'm headed, or what I'm going to end up doing in the next five or ten years. I'm usually a meticulous (and okay, a somewhat neurotic) planner, but right now, it feels so good to just close my eyes and take a deep breath as I look out my new window at the calm autumn evening.

I kind of wish the rest of the country felt the same way. There's been a lot of unrest lately, what with the OWS movement going on in Manhattan and the upcoming presidential election next year. If only the world took a moment to stop spinning so fast... maybe people would see things with a better perspective instead of constantly taking sides in gray situations. There's always a side to every story; we cannot always presume to know everything. The best we can do is just, for once, learn to listen to each other and try to be understanding.

Of course, that's just the optimist in me talking. The pessimist in me just heaves a sigh and shakes her head. Oh well...

Until the next post, dear friends.

This is yours truly,
J.Day

Silly Little Thing Called Fear

It's 3 something AM in the morning and I can't stop thinking about what I'm going to do for the rest of my life. Find a job for next semester? Work in a lab while doing independent research?

Having choices can be a wonderful thing, but thinking about the possibilities can sometimes paralyze you with the fear of failure.

There are so many things I want to do, but so little time to do them. I'd like to think that I'm fearless, but when it comes time to mobilize and get things done, I feel a little frozen. Like a panic-stricken chicken running around in zig-zagging directions with its head dangling from the base of its neck.

Maybe I'm just over-thinking it. I shouldn't let fear of failure stop me from pursuing my goals and trying out new things. I have to learn to embrace it and accept it for what it is in order to fully overcome it.

No longer shall fear of failure paralyze me into inaction. I will pursue the things I want to accomplish.

For now, though, I really need to get some sleep.

Until the next post, dear friends.

Leave the Pieces So I Can Breathe

It's been a month.

I can't spend the rest of my days wondering why he flaked out again and hasn't called, despite the message he'd sent saying that he "didn't forget" about me. Life would have been a lot simpler if he hadn't told me that and kept asking me about my schedule. It would have been a whole lot easier to forget him, as my friends have been suggesting that I do. I can't blame him for being busy, but at the same time I really wish that he wasn't so confusing.

If he still wants to see me, then he has my number. Until then, I don't want to hold my breath any longer.

So I'm going to assume it's headed nowhere, cut my losses, and move on. I've got other things to worry about, anyway.

Here are the obligatory (somewhat relevant) sad songs:

I'll be fine, as long as I'm able to breathe. Nothing ventured, nothing gained. At least I've gained some perspective on the matter.

Now that that's done, on to actual priorities...

And So It Goes, This Soldier Knows That Senior Year Won't Be An Easy One. But It Can Be Done.

This summer was both pretty awesome and productive. I hope yours was just as fruitful and enjoyable.

I finally finished my internship as the research assistant to the director of evaluation and program improvement. I had a blast working there, and I feel that I've learned so much. I think I'll definitely pursue educational psychology for my master's degree (and hopefully, Ph.D). It seems that the chips are slowly falling into place...

Location: Islands of Adventure

My family and I also went to Florida for a one-week vacation. Though I wanted so badly to go to Disney World to revisit my childhood memories, it wasn't part of the budget for this year. So instead we went to Universal Studios and Islands of Adventure. "The Return of the Mummy" ride and the Harry Potter coasters were AWESOME. They left me exhilarated and breathless (my asthma notwithstanding). I don't have any phobias, but I'm glad to say that I've survived riding on several roller coasters in one day and lived to tell the tale. I'm definitely riding a coaster again when I get the chance!

Swimming at Westgate Vacation Villas

We also went swimming each day at the resort, which helped soothe my asthma a little. My sister and I figured out how to float on our backs and swim backwards (sort of). I'm glad to say that I'm no longer afraid of the water. But I'm still sticking to the shallow end... I like knowing that I can just stand up immediately if I ever feel like my lungs are filling up with water. Breathing underwater is another skill I have yet to master, it seems. Overall, I'd say that the exercise was well worth it.

My mother would beg to differ, though. She's still horrified at the fact that she no longer has the milky white complexion that most Filipina women would die to have. To which I just shrug a shoulder and say, "Your skin manufactured melanin in response to exposure to the sun's ultraviolet rays because we were at a location near the Earths' equator. It's natural. Get over it." Beauty's only skin-deep, and if you're going to nitpick about your skin's coloration for vanity purposes, then I feel sorry for you. There's more to life than skin-whitening products. Like finishing your bachelor's degree.

School started on the last Friday of August. Although it's already been two weeks into the semester, I'm not exactly sure how busy I'll actually be, since I'm now the new Psi Chi secretary at my college. With that added duty in addition to my academics and my active involvement with the International Order of the Rainbow for Girls, I think I'm going to have my hands full for the year. Not that I'm complaining. Better to lead a productive life than to bum around wasting away your skills talents. Plus, books and Rainbow keeps me grounded and level-headed even during my craziest moments. Even during those crazy moments when I'm wondering about that someone and acting like an irrational goober. Ah, well.

In other news...

Getting that story down on paper...

I'm sad to say that unless you count all the statistical reports, training manuals, and literature reviews I've worked on for my internship, I haven't really done much writing. I haven't touched my manuscript in months because I've been so busy at the office this summer. Perhaps between the madness of my potentially stir-crazy senior year, I might be able to find time to get back to penning my characters' journeys. Time management is going to be one big bugger in the coming months. Let's hope time doesn't kick me in the butt, shall we?

I'll try to update this blog when I get back with the aforementioned brief book reviews and maybe some thoughts about my favorite SyFy shows. Until then, here's my summer 2011 playlist. The music featured in it are pretty much songs that describe my current state of mind (sort of) and my overall outlook for the summer and beyond.

Hope you enjoy it and make your own loud music. In no particular rank or order:

1. Dear California - Vanessa Carlton




This song came from Vanessa's new album, Rabbits on the Run. There's definitely something different about her music in her latest compilation. The hollow, indie-rock sound present throughout the album gives an ambiance of nostalgia. It gives Vanessa another perspective from which she can showcase her voice and musical abilities. "Dear California" reminds me a bit of The Beatles "I Wanna Hold Your Hand." I guess it's because of the harmony of voices, the guitars' upbeat tempo, and the light-hearted piano accompanying the guitars. I like it. It's simple, catchy, and memorable -- perfect for relaxing on those balmy summer evenings. Hope Vanessa will release more music. :)

2. Loud Music - Michelle Branch




I absolutely LOVE that she's back and making more loud music after starting her own family. She must also be a cool mom. I'd love to babysit little Owen for her if she's ever around New York. Michelle's just fantastic. I loved her country music, and I don't even listen to country that often! Anyway, just like Anna Nalick and Vanessa Carlton, it's great to see that Michelle's back writing and sharing her awesome tunes with us.

3. Summertime - Michelle Branch




Michelle sounds even better performing it live with just an acoustic guitar. :)

The simplicity of this song makes it so sweet to listen to. The heartfelt lyrics and mellow cheerful tune speak volumes of nostalgia, longing, and light-hearted wondering. I can't help but fall in love with the chorus of this song because it invokes a feeling of sweet inspiration whenever I'm cooking dinner or cleaning. There's something about it that transports me to a different emotional state. It makes me wonder if this is what it's like to feel happy with the way life's unfolding, while also thinking about someone you love who may or may not be with you to share that moment of peaceful contentment.

4. All You Wanted - Michelle Branch




This is a throwback, but it's my all-time favorite song by Michelle. "So lonely inside, so busy out there, and all you wanted was somebody who cares..."

Seriously, who can't relate to those lines? They strike a chord within me whenever I listen to this song. I'm reminded of all the times when I've wanted to cheer up a friend, to hug them and tell someone that it's okay, they'll get through whatever rough patch it is that they're experiencing. Even more so, I'm reminded of all those times when I've been down and needed someone willing enough to listen to me or just to hold my hand.

5. Lasso - Phoenix




Ah, and now we arrive at "Lasso." Every time I hear this song, I feel like getting up and jumping around like a madwoman. Of course, doing that in the middle of my morning commute on a cramped train probably won't do me any good except win me some dirty looks on the subway. I'll just content myself with tapping my feet, I guess.

6. Last Friday Night (T.G.I.F.) - Katy Perry




If you're a faithful follower of this blog, I know what you must be thinking. I know this looks bad, especially since I've stated in previous posts how much this person annoys me with her airhead demeanor and her screeching in "Firework." For this particular song, though, I'll make an exception. As much as I hate to admit this, I actually LIKE "Last Friday Night." Ditto with "Teenage Dream." They're the only two Katy Perry songs for which I'll make exceptions.

You have to admit, the music video for "Last Friday Night" is pretty fucking hilarious. (Thank God Rebecca Black didn't sing a single note!) The nonchalance of the song immediately takes my mind off of my worries and makes me want to go with my friends on a fun girls' night out. Not that we'd do anything illegal, of course...

7. Super Bass (Nicki Minaj Cover) - Julie Anne San Jose




I also never thought that I would ever like a Nicki Minaj song, but it turns out that I do. I decided to post this version of Nicki's "Super Bass" because Julie Anne San Jose has a powerful voice and does an amazing job of covering it. Plus, we share a similar name! (She's Julie Anne... whereas I'm Julianne, ahaha.) Not only can she sing, but she can rap, too! I'd like to think that I'm a decent singer, but I sure as heck can't rap even if my life depended on it. This girl, though, she's got it all. I hope I can find more of her music. Her voice is just amazing. :)

8. Speak Slow - Tegan and Sara





No particular reason... I just love the paradox in the chorus. Plus, it's fun to sing along to!

"When your love lets you go, you only want love more even when love was not what you were looking for. Speak slow, where do we go, ah ah? Where do we go, ah ah? Where do we go, oh?..."

9. Carousel - Vanessa Carlton




Here's another one of Vanessa's songs from Rabbits on the Run. The harmony of voices and the fluidity of the piano create a happy, hopeful melody that reminds you of time's ability to heal old wounds. Many often  say that life is one crazy roller coaster. Perhaps a carousel is a better symbol to use to represent life. Not only does it spin around, signifying life's cyclical nature, but the animals on the carousel ascend and descend in much the same way that one experiences bouts of sadness and joy. During the entire ride, the music carries you through the journey, just as time carries you throughout your life.

10. Soldier - Ingrid Michaelson




I've heard of Ingrid Michaelson before, of course, and though I liked "Take Me the Way I Am," I never thought to give her other songs a shot... Until I watched an episode of Lifetime's "Drop Dead Diva" and got hooked by the song at the end of the show. So I looked her up on iTunes, and I ended up downloading her newest album, Everybody, in its entirety. I only regret not listening to her songs sooner.

I think "Soldier" is my theme song (for now). It pretty much summarizes my attitude toward life -- that no matter what happens, always keep your chin up. Things will work themselves out eventually. You just have to step up and be brave.

"But how do I know if I'll make it through?
How do I know? Where's the proof in you?

And so it goes, this soldier knows the battle with the heart isn't easily won. 
And so it goes, this soldier knows the battle with the heart isn't easily won...

But it can be won..."

 

 That's it for the playlist and for this post. Until next time, dear friends. Keep braving the battle with the heart. Whatever the outcome, always remember to keep it real.

This is yours truly,
J. Day