It is officially the 7th circle of hell here in San Jose, CA. I just checked the thermostat on weather.com and it tells me that it is 87 degrees, but it feels like 500 since we are in the valley. Combine the heat with an unairconditioned apartment and a headache and you've got buckets of fun. I believe I would rather freeze my pahtootie off during a harsh Noreaster.
Oh, and I would like to take this moment to welcome my mother to blogland. I promise to keep things moderately clean. :)
Thursday, June 30, 2005
Tuesday, June 28, 2005
Frickin' Viruses
It's been a long, long time. It almost feels like it's been since 1927. Much has happened to my poor little lap top since then. It's been sick. Really sick. Like, Trojan Horse Virus sick. Yes, that's right. My month old computer was sent back to Best Buy thrice to get rid of the crap. Finally, the people at Best Buy had to whipe the system clean and start with a clean slate. Hence, the reason why there is such a massive gap in my posting. If anyone has any advice on good anti-virus software, please pass it on. Once our Norton Anti-Virus is out of date, I would like to have software that actually WORKS. What a concept.
So, just a warning: Be on the look out for suspicious windows that look like an actual warning telling you that you need to remove spyware from your computer. It creates a system-eating virus that doesn't go away. Not only do you have pop-ups every second, but you get a lot of porn, too. But, not good porn...computer-killing porn.
Happy surfing...say no to "the horse."
So, just a warning: Be on the look out for suspicious windows that look like an actual warning telling you that you need to remove spyware from your computer. It creates a system-eating virus that doesn't go away. Not only do you have pop-ups every second, but you get a lot of porn, too. But, not good porn...computer-killing porn.
Happy surfing...say no to "the horse."
Monday, June 06, 2005
"This is it!"
Everyone struggles with who they are at some point in their lives. I have been in a fight with myself for the past eight years over this, with fleeting moments of clarity, but none of my career choices have given me enough satisfaction for me to have the "this is it" moment that I have been waiting for.
Until this past month.
Since I have been unemployed, (which comes with the territory in the arts...another reason why I have been seeking another path) I have made it my mission to find ways to stay motivated about my career change. Through a career counseling class, I determined my path would be Occupational Therapy. It had everything I was looking for: helping others in the community, work stability, independence in the work place, ability of starting own business, flexibility in work schedule, better pay....but was it really for me? Am I ready to try graduate school again? Do I really have what it takes to treat the sick/injured? Do I have the patience to better the lives of children with developmental disabilities?
Apparently, yes, yes, yes, and yes.
About a month ago, I spent the morning with an OT (Occupational Therapist) at an elementary school. Her main objective is to help develop motor, developemental and communication skills of autistic children. That particular morning I spent with her, she had three different cases; all three were different levels of autism. I was extremely nervous because I haven't been around small children in years, and I thought I was going to appear awkward and uncomfortable. It took me awhile to warm up, but once she started blowing bubbles with the second child, I started connecting with the kids and felt completely at ease. The morning consisted of obstacle courses of jumping through hoops, playing fireman, coloring pictures, lifting objects, climbing ropes, spinning on tire swings and blowing bubbles. All of these activities help these children redevelop parts of their brains that are wired differently and improve communication skills. When the parents come to pick them up, they meet with the OT and discuss the day. Some parents are desperate to do anything to help their child have a normal life inspite of their disability. They want their children to have better social skills, but run into problems with scheduling play dates with other kids. Two weeks in advance, only. I couldn't believe it!! When I was growing up, we couldn't keep our friends OUT of our house long enough for quality family time...is it life in the city? or is it parents keeping their kids so busy with soccer, piano, dance, etc...? Other parents...well, you can only imagine that they are in denial or do not take the advice and their children do not get the full affect of the treatment. The OT expressed that it is very critical to get as much therapy in ages 3-5 to get better results. After that, the brain is more difficult to penetrate.
This morning, I ventured in a different setting: a hospital. This is territory that I haven't ventured in much since I was in high school visiting sick grandparents. The smell alone was always enough to make my stomach turn. I thought I would be on the floor in minutes, but there was so much to concentrate on that I forgot about all the things that made me queezy about the white hospital walls. The first patient was a real piss-cutter. Male, 50's, knee injury, bitching incessently about waiting on a banana for his cereal...basically, my father. Stubborn, cussed like a sailor, everything had to be his idea. I felt at home immediately.
Everyone in the unit from Physical Therapy/OT/Speech Language Pathology was very helpful, friendly and really liked their jobs. A stark difference from some of the things I run into in my field. Don't get me wrong: I have liked doing my job. Many of the people I have met have become life-long friends, and I never would have met them if I hadn't chosen the arts. I never would have met my boyfriend. I never would have learned to sew, which I truely love doing. Many people fit the arts beautifully, and I still strongly believe that the arts are underappreciated and very needed in our society. And then there are those who grow so bitter of the same thing and feel so trapped, that no one around them can enjoy their job. This is surely true in many other fields, and I have felt myself becoming that bitter person working with physical pain every day. Instead of feeling sorry for myself, which can be easy to do, I decided to take the scary, difficult route of changing my career entirely.
I want to be an OT.
I am very excited to say that I have officially had my "this is it" moment. Wish me luck.
Until this past month.
Since I have been unemployed, (which comes with the territory in the arts...another reason why I have been seeking another path) I have made it my mission to find ways to stay motivated about my career change. Through a career counseling class, I determined my path would be Occupational Therapy. It had everything I was looking for: helping others in the community, work stability, independence in the work place, ability of starting own business, flexibility in work schedule, better pay....but was it really for me? Am I ready to try graduate school again? Do I really have what it takes to treat the sick/injured? Do I have the patience to better the lives of children with developmental disabilities?
Apparently, yes, yes, yes, and yes.
About a month ago, I spent the morning with an OT (Occupational Therapist) at an elementary school. Her main objective is to help develop motor, developemental and communication skills of autistic children. That particular morning I spent with her, she had three different cases; all three were different levels of autism. I was extremely nervous because I haven't been around small children in years, and I thought I was going to appear awkward and uncomfortable. It took me awhile to warm up, but once she started blowing bubbles with the second child, I started connecting with the kids and felt completely at ease. The morning consisted of obstacle courses of jumping through hoops, playing fireman, coloring pictures, lifting objects, climbing ropes, spinning on tire swings and blowing bubbles. All of these activities help these children redevelop parts of their brains that are wired differently and improve communication skills. When the parents come to pick them up, they meet with the OT and discuss the day. Some parents are desperate to do anything to help their child have a normal life inspite of their disability. They want their children to have better social skills, but run into problems with scheduling play dates with other kids. Two weeks in advance, only. I couldn't believe it!! When I was growing up, we couldn't keep our friends OUT of our house long enough for quality family time...is it life in the city? or is it parents keeping their kids so busy with soccer, piano, dance, etc...? Other parents...well, you can only imagine that they are in denial or do not take the advice and their children do not get the full affect of the treatment. The OT expressed that it is very critical to get as much therapy in ages 3-5 to get better results. After that, the brain is more difficult to penetrate.
This morning, I ventured in a different setting: a hospital. This is territory that I haven't ventured in much since I was in high school visiting sick grandparents. The smell alone was always enough to make my stomach turn. I thought I would be on the floor in minutes, but there was so much to concentrate on that I forgot about all the things that made me queezy about the white hospital walls. The first patient was a real piss-cutter. Male, 50's, knee injury, bitching incessently about waiting on a banana for his cereal...basically, my father. Stubborn, cussed like a sailor, everything had to be his idea. I felt at home immediately.
Everyone in the unit from Physical Therapy/OT/Speech Language Pathology was very helpful, friendly and really liked their jobs. A stark difference from some of the things I run into in my field. Don't get me wrong: I have liked doing my job. Many of the people I have met have become life-long friends, and I never would have met them if I hadn't chosen the arts. I never would have met my boyfriend. I never would have learned to sew, which I truely love doing. Many people fit the arts beautifully, and I still strongly believe that the arts are underappreciated and very needed in our society. And then there are those who grow so bitter of the same thing and feel so trapped, that no one around them can enjoy their job. This is surely true in many other fields, and I have felt myself becoming that bitter person working with physical pain every day. Instead of feeling sorry for myself, which can be easy to do, I decided to take the scary, difficult route of changing my career entirely.
I want to be an OT.
I am very excited to say that I have officially had my "this is it" moment. Wish me luck.
Saturday, June 04, 2005
Here, Kitty, Kitty
Last night I decided to reread the entire Tres Navarre series by Rick Riordan...this time in order. When I woke up this morning, I decided to do a little investigative work of my own and found out that he has a new book coming out. I love this Navarre character. Who doesn't love a guy who would name their cat with a first AND a last name (Robert Johnson)? It reminds me of a dear friend of mine who named her first horse after her favorite Jr. High School janitor, Mr. Sanchez.
Know any other good pet names?
Know any other good pet names?
Wednesday, June 01, 2005
Blog me??? BLOG YOU!!!
You know, this is always something I have wanted to do, but for some reason it scared the crap out of me. The only reason I was pushed to do this is because ADoD forced me to comment and defend my sense of direction.
I turned 26 yesterday, and for the first time, my birthday just seemed like another day. Was it special? Yes. But, I still didn't have that childhood expectation that comes with turning one year older. Maybe that's because I spent the evening with my boyfriend and dozens of senior citizens playing banjos at "Strawhat Pizza." I never reckoned my fella for the sing-a-long-with-banjos type, but "Irish Eyes are Smiling" was all his. It was a great time, and I'm sure we'll be back next Tuesday.
So, now, ADoD...I've created this freakin' blog, so it's on like donkey kong!
I turned 26 yesterday, and for the first time, my birthday just seemed like another day. Was it special? Yes. But, I still didn't have that childhood expectation that comes with turning one year older. Maybe that's because I spent the evening with my boyfriend and dozens of senior citizens playing banjos at "Strawhat Pizza." I never reckoned my fella for the sing-a-long-with-banjos type, but "Irish Eyes are Smiling" was all his. It was a great time, and I'm sure we'll be back next Tuesday.
So, now, ADoD...I've created this freakin' blog, so it's on like donkey kong!
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