Thursday, 29 November 2012
I was reading this piece about choosing supervisors on U of T's website and had a good laugh.
I guess I'm lucky. Through the years, I've had supervisors who did everything listed on the "best" to "worst" scenarios. I think the supervisors described was an amalgamation of all my supervisors' good and bad traits.
U of T was probably writing it tongue-in-cheek, but hey, I've had supervisors who:
1) Visited me in the hospital (two supervisors, mind you)
2) Called the family practice to find me a doctor, and dug up numbers for a chiropractor when I injured my back
3) Dealt with all the bureaucracy for me and all I needed to do was get them signed
4) Tried to tell me who my "secret examiner" was since "everyone else knew theirs."
1) Supervisor who is never around!
2) Supervisor who always showed up late for any meeting, and then tried to rush me off!
3) "Makes you feel nervous, stupid, isolated or angry"
4) Supervisor who could never make up her mind and everything was "good." Or on the flip side, supervisor who could never make up her mind and everything was "NOT good."
Thankfully, I haven't had a supervisor turn on me...yet.
And I hope we don't go there...
Tuesday, 11 September 2012
I think something is wrong with the education system when university students think it is perfectly fine to "place" a friend at the head of the line for the bus and later have the whole group saunter in and join that ONE friend who was place-holding for a group.
Why should a group of 5-6 people get ahead of the line simply because they had a friend arrive early? When buses are full, 5-6 people is sometimes enough to make you wait for the next, next bus!
And this seems to be very normal thing when university students are around. Another group of people who love to cut queue are the elderly.
Now, I almost always let old people behind me get on the bus first. But it irks me that they think that their age gives them the right to walk to the front of the line. I am all for wheelchairs and strollers going first, but people who walk to the front of the line because they're old is another issue altogether...
We seem to be getting better at teaching our children how to count, read, and write...but we're not getting any better at teaching them respect, consideration, and manners.
And we also seem to teach people that when it comes to what is right, there is a double standard.
Monday, 16 July 2012
|Sheba and me enjoying the sunshine...|
|More sunshine with my furry poochy friend!|
I have been so much happier since I made friends with my professor's dog, Sheba (who, incidentally, has the same name as one of my dogs back home). Sheba's such a lovely, loving, and lovable pooch. She's a 7-month labradoodle, and she makes my stresses just melt away...
Sheba's very good about giving me a little kiss to say good morning (that and a multitude of scratches!). The office is so much more cheerful with her around...
|Getting a brush at home...|
Sheba is quite a celebrity too. The professor's students love her as much as I do!
|Together with Joanna, we spoil the poochy...|
There's something about dogs and smiles here. I am very happy to approach people whom I don't know to say hello to their dogs, and most owners are perfectly happy to talk to you about their dogs and share a pet and lick. And compared to Malaysian dogs, the ones here are sometimes super humungous! Which I like! I've met dogs that weight almost a whole me and another half...
Sheba's been away for almost a month-and-a-half at "doggie camp", and I've missed her tremendously. I can't wait till she returns to work! :-)
Sunday, 13 May 2012
Durian feast by the roadside in Penang...
So after a long hiatus from the world of blogging, I return to say I just came back from Malaysia. It's been 2 years since I returned home, and my tummy was the one planning the vacation!
My one grumble...Malaysians only had one thing on their mind: To remind me how fat I've become since I last returned. Sheesh. They couldn't even let me enjoy my vacation without commenting about my weight...directly.
"Wah, so fat!"
"Wah, put on weight!"
"Your face very big already lar"...
Sheesh...I come back once in two years, let me eat in peace lar, ok?
Top on my list of must-eats was:
Durian (see pic)
Ipoh Kuey Teow
Char Koay Teow (with the cockles and Ipoh taugeh)
And almost everything else Malaysian...
Oh well, the tummy was happy. The weighing scale was not...
And then when I returned to Vancouver, my classmates and I went to eat: Malaysian food! Haha...
|Daphne's empty coconut at the Malaysian restaurant in Vancouver...|
Returning to Vancouver did not earn me any weight-comments; the Vancouverites were more fascinated by my "gorgeous tan". I had a good laugh because I managed the tan even with all the hiding from the sun!
See for yourself! The durian picture was taken the first few days I was back in Malaysia, and the coconut picture was taken a few days after I returned to Vancouver...
Sunday, 22 January 2012
There is bound to be one everywhere you go--the ubiquitous pengilap kasut (shoe-polisher) or a**-kisser as my new close friend in Vancouver calls them. Even after meeting many and having to work with them at some point or another, I still have not completely gotten used to them.
They make my skin crawl.
I don't know how they do it. I am very patient, but pretend to like you and polish you up is something I just can't make myself do. If I don't like you, it's pretty obvious (thankfully, I don't dislike many people), although I've gotten better at being civil and not just avoiding you.
I have to kind of work with one currently. The first time I met her, my skin crawled horribly. She started by telling me she needed to "teach you how to handle people." Now it's not arrogance that's making me not like her--I'm the same girl who let a fresh first-year undergraduate "teach" me how to read a journal article while everyone looked at me incredulously for a whole half hour.
When the girl (nice thing!) was done and had left, people wanted to know why I hadn't just told her I know how to read journals. Well, she was beaming when she sat to teach me, and if it makes her day, why not? And it did make her day, although she was rather sheepish a while later when she found out I had graduated, but she thanked me profusely for not telling her off. I told her I was fine with it if she ever wanted to practice "teaching" anything, and she was even happier with that!
So what's with shoe-polishers? Is this an evolutionary skill of some sort? It can't be just culture, because they can be found across the world!
Ergh, geram only. Guess that's the working world.