Photo by Pantavila.
Photo by Pantavila.
Wednesday, April 11
Snow. In April. Boo. Due to the inclement weather, my flight was delayed an hour. That wasn’t so bad, because that meant my host, Will, was able to pick me up from the airport after work. We took the scenic route back from Midway to Logan Square along Lakeshore Drive.
Found in one of the many gift shops at Universal Studios. They also had Rafael — but no Ralph — as well as Jose, Juan, Josefina and Jorge.
More on this and Migra Mouse in my blogging.la post today.
The top ten cool things about my sister, Lori.
And Lori, 23 is not old, but it might just be one of your best years. I know it was for me.
Ten things I realized this past weekend in Las Vegas:
1. I might be the kind of girl I never liked… the high maintenance girlfriend.
2. Gambling with play money at Adrian’s 21st birthday party, which featured Black Jack and Texas Hold’em Poker, is much more fun than gambling with my own hard-earned money.
3. When I get a hunch (say, bet on 31 on the roulette table), I should follow it. I missed 4 opportunities, but the worst was when I stopped playing for a few spins of the wheel after betting 31 (and other numbers) for every spin and two of the next three numbers that came up were 31! I wanted to kick someone, but I think that’s not cool in Vegas casinos.
4. Cold weather makes me grumpy.
5. I really need to get my camera repaired or just get a new camera.
6. There are several things I don’t like about my home state, but I love the fact that smoking is not allowed indoors in public spaces such as restaurants. The negative impact of second-hand smoke in public places may be debated, but the annoyance factor is still high.
7. I’m too old (and high maintenance, see above) for the “cram a bunch of people into a single hotel room to save money” strategy.
8. I don’t really like the food at most buffets.
9. Vegas was more fun when I used to go with my parents as a kid or as a babysitter with my madrina’s family.
10. The boyfriend puts up with a lot from me. I think it’s because he loves me.
I chose the photos based on the following considerations: story told, amusing factor (as nebulous as Flickr’s “interesting” factor), and composition.
I used to feature one of my photos every Wednesday, but I stoppped. Part of the reason is because my camera is broken and the other part is because I got too busy/lazy.
The following are a collection of my favorite photos I took (or taken of me and others) in the first six months of the year. For more photos from 2006, you can check here for the Mil Palabras archives.
Isa loves telling people about her first impression of me way back in the summer of 1998. According to her, I was a snob and because (a) I was from Hacienda Heights and (b) I was in the UCLA band. Lucky for me (and I do mean lucky), Isa and I were placed in the same sections for our composition and political science courses that summer. She was kind of enough to let me use her computer to write my papers and we studied together for poli sci. I’m not quite sure what made her initial impression wear off, but I’m glad it did.
Since that summer, Isa has become one of my closest friends and confidants. I can (and have) tell her anything. She knows me so well that she can tell when I’m lying or holding back on the truth. I can’t lie to her. We’re a lot alike and love to compete with each other. The only times we even get close to fighting or arguing comes in the middle of a Scrabble or Trivial Pursuit game.
Isa moved into the apartment over 2 years ago. It’s been a difficult two years, but having her across the hallway has made it easier.
Happy birthday, roommate!
A few months ago, I posted the following:
While I was waiting for Chispa’s graduation to start on Saturday, a thought came to mind.
My parents weren’t at my graduation last year. They didn’t see me walk across the stage or hear the dean actually pronounce my last name correctly. There are no pictures of me in a cap and gown flashing a huge smile between my mom and dad. There’s not even a picture of me and my sister. Danny and Adrian, my brothers, were the only ones who could attend. (To be fair, I decided at the last minute that I’d be participating in the ceremony.)
I decided on Saturday afternoon that I want my parents to see me graduate again. Maybe that will help me get back on track with this thing called school.
Even after writing that, I couldn’t find my increasingly elusive ganas (motivation). I informally checked out of school and classes.
I didn’t completely drop school and made a half ass attempt at finding mis ganas. At the Raza Graduation, I sat on stage and listened to Dr. Katy, one of three PhD students participating in the ceremony. She spoke about participating in the ceremony four years earlier when she earned her MA. Katy said, “When I heard her [a PhD student] speak, I decided then and there that I wanted to finish and come back to Raza Grad as a PhD.” Nice words, but not quite what I needed.
I spent the long summer talking my issues out with peers and a therapist. I spoke to anyone I trusted and who knew me well enough to know this wasn’t just a phase. Thankfully, I have a lot of good listeners in my circle of friends (undoubtedly related to many of their backgrounds as counselors). No one told me what to do, but they did make suggestions and asked helpful questions.
I didn’t talk to anyone before making my first decision last week. I tried to sleep late Monday night, but couldn’t and got out of bed. I emailed my advisor’s secretary to set up an appointment. I needed to talk to my advisor about filling out any paperwork required to formally withdraw. I decided to be a PhD drop out.
But something strange happened between 3 am Tuesday and 3 pm on Wednesday when I met with my advisor.
Perhaps there’s a guardian angel for graduate students who was looking out for me.
When I woke up, I found an email from Erica, my pseudo-mentor and recent graduate of the program. I replied to her cheery “what’s up, Pucca?” email with a more somber explanation of my recent decision. That evening I told a fellow grad student and good friend, Arshad, about my decision. I couldn’t see his face over instant messenger, but I knew his words “shouldn’t we talk about this?” meant he was concerned. We did talk, but didn’t get too far.
I wrote out some of what I needed to tell my advisor on Tuesday night. I was less sure of my earlier decision and knew I couldn’t drop out without talking to my advisor and getting her feedback.
On Wednesday morning, Erica called from ~2,000 miles away. “You know, I’m on the stay in school tip, but I also want you to be happy,” she said. Our conversation was more like a counseling session and it was just what I needed. A few hours later, I spoke to my advisor. She was supportive, helpful and said everything I needed to hear.
I took me four months, but I made my decision last week. I’m sticking it out. Some day, you all will get to call me Dr. Cindylu.