When you think you COULD BE a therapist

So if I’m not in my room watching anime, studying in the library, having class or socializing (yes I do that now), usually I am either running desperately to get to work and arrive in a red, sweaty mess usually with a painfully throbbing ankle (sorry, injury).

What work?

I work as a monitor for one of the dorms, a job which basically entails sitting on my butt ‘monitoring the dorm’ /doing nothing for a few hours. Usually I study, watch buzzfeed, do art or catch up on a good book while I ‘work’.

Anyway, today my friend (we will call her Potato) was chilling with me in the monitor room. In the desk, I happened to find a folder of forms. These were referral forms for the counselors office, which students could fill out and give to the counselor if they want assistance for some problems.

Intrigued, I started reading some of the ‘problems’ out loud to Potato. Some of them were really weird. Issues like ‘sexually acting out’, ‘being easily distracted’, ‘swearing’, ‘lying’, ‘daydreaming’. We thought it was so funny, we were creating the different scenarios of the counselor and patient. I mean, can you imagine someone walking in like:

Counselor: ‘hi what’s your issue?’

Patient whose problem is swearing: ‘Fuck you know shit I just can’t stop fucking swearing fuck shit’


Patient whose problem is easily distracted: *wanders in

Counselor: ‘hi can I help you?’

Patient: *squints at her. ‘Why did I come in here?’ *scratches head. ‘Huh’.

Counselor: ‘you look lost. Can I help-‘

Patient:* wanders away.

Yeah. This is why I’ll never be a therapist.


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Huh, I actually like my major (Adventures of a Uni Student)

Judging by who I make friends with, it’s almost like I’ve completely distanced myself from my own major.

Over the past semester and summer classes, most of the people I’ve made friends with were in the departments of Theology and CIS (Computer Information Systems). So basically, I’m friends with a lot of pastors-to-be, and businessy people who know a lot about computers. A bare few are actually in my faculty, the Faculty of Education.

This is mostly because a lot of the students taking Education as their major are from Myanmar, and they mostly stick together. I also tend to sit next to the same people every time, so I never really branched out that much.

But now I’m in a class where the teacher splits us up into different groups a lot. But not only are we in different groups, we have to stay within those groups. And the result was that I actually realized ‘Hey, I actually like the people in my faculty!”

It was hard not to be jealous of the multi-national, smart-mouthed individuals at CIS, or the boisterous close-knit Biology Majors, or the tux-wearing all-knowing Theology majors. But my closed-mindedness shut me off from quite a lot of people.

This may sound dumb, but I slowly realized that we all had the same passion. We weren’t taking Education as our major just because it was one of the cheaper majors to take. It was because of a desire, a mutual drive to see our worlds and communities better educated. We even had jokes that only we as teachers and educators would understand. And I found myself laughing and enjoying myself more than ever. And as people talked to me, I realized that I wasn’t as invisible as I thought. People were actually interested in talking to me and finding out what I had to say.

Instead of seeing them as just other students in my class that I would never really get to know, I saw them for what they were really were. Special. It dawned at me that these 30 some individuals in my class were going to change the world. Sure, we’re just a bunch of goofy uni students now, but when we leave, we’re going to split up and benefit our own different parts of the world. And that’s amazing. And I only hope I get to know them and enjoy their company while they’re here.

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How To Be Zen When You Want To Strangle Someone (Adventures of a Uni Student)

By an extraordinary turn of events, sometimes even the best week of your life can turn into it’s very own hell.

This is the story of how I have not completely collapsed due to sheer stress (yet. There’s always time for a meltdown later).

During my summer break, I was told that my ID card was no longer able to be used. They punched holes in it and threw it in a box. Some time prior to that, I’d lost my ATM card. So now I didn’t even have my ID card to make a new ATM card. Upon arriving back at my dorm after a long six hour trip, I discovered that the door to my room was jammed. I couldn’t get inside, and maintenance was not available to fix it. That also meant I couldn’t access some important final registration papers to give to the university’s office, which were in my room. After spending the night in a friends’ room, I found out today that maintenance still hadn’t arrived to fix my door. And since I can’t give in those important papers still, I will have to pay a fine tomorrow (if my door is even fixed by then).

So how have I been handling it?

Well, despite resisting the urge to scream at various odd times of the day and break down my room door, I’ve been doing the things that I can do. Notifying the dorm monitors. Eating. Taking a shower. Working on this blog if that can count as being productive. Though I’d love to complain, I have to accept that sometimes bad things happen. Multiple times, and at the most inconvenient moments. It doesn’t help to whine about them. What helps is going on with life, and learning to make the best of it.

Huh, look at that. Maybe I’m taking my own advice after all, and learning how to not freakout :).

Have a great day!


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Meaningful Conversations with a 10 year Old (Adventures of a Uni Student)

Kids say the most wisest and profound things that sometimes leave you questioning everything that is right in the world.

Yesterday I visited my sister at her workplace, a small cafe off the side of Siam Country Club road. As I was sitting around writing yesterday’s blog post, this curly haired kid in a school uniform walks in, giving me a weird look. For the sake of my recollected tale, we’ll call him Marco.

Marco is my sister’s boss’s kid. After bonding over fidget spinners and mutually annoying my sister, I went to get my sister Angel some food at 7/11, and Marco decided to tag along.

“Whatever you do,” Marco tells me, “Don’t ever go on a walk in front of our house.”


“Because it’s full of stray dogs. Trust me, Angel and I tried it. There are like three pitbulls.”

“Oh wow.”

“And we saw one dog with a muzzle, so Angel and I were like ‘it’s ok, it has a muzzle.’ But then another dog appeared that looked exactly like the first one, but without the muzzle.

Me: *inwardly sweating from the sheer intensity of this story.

Marco continues, “whenever I see strays, I always do three things. One, don’t look them in the eye. Two, don’t intimidate them. Three, don’t scare them.”


“I told Angel this, and she did the complete opposite of everything I said.”

Writing this story now, I think this tells more about the personality of my sister rather than this ten year old’s wisdom.

Later, while we were standing at the cashier, I asked Marco. “Who’s cooler, me or Angel?”

Marco looks at me as if I were stupid. “Angel.”

“Of course, ’cause you’ve known her longer.”

Marco continues looking at me quizzically. “You look like Angel, and you sound like Angel.”


“But you have different teeth.”


“And shorter hair.”


“And more acne.”

“Okay thanks.”

When we came back, and Angel and her boss were closing up the shop, Marco and I were sitting outside waiting for them. Somehow we got to talking about horror movies, and having a very in-depth conversation about Chucky.

Me, “The worst horror movie I’ve ever watched is Chucky.”

Marco, “The only reason anyone dies in Chucky is because they’re stupid. Like for example, you can just put him in a box and lock him in there. He can’t get out.”

Me, “Maybe he can break out, cause he has supernatural abilities.”

“Why would he have supernatural abilities?”

“Cause he’s a demon-possessed doll.”

“He’s not demon possessed. What happened was he was a murderer who learned voodoo and transported his spirit into a doll.”

“Whatever, a murderer-possessed doll. Why did he put his spirit into a doll, anyway? Why not a car? He could kill so much more people that way.”

Marco agrees, “yeah, and he has such chubby hands. Like how can he even kill anyone with them?”

Me, “Superpowers!”

“What I don’t understand is like, one scene, the girl comes in and she sees Chucky lying on the floor. But somehow, Chucky jumps all the way up and kills her.”

Me, “You keep forgetting he has superpowers.”

Kids are hilarious.






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Cupcakes, ID Cards, and Haircuts (Adventures of a University Student)

So in a similar style to my ‘adventures of living on my own’ series, I’m now starting a new one. Adventures of a University Student. It is full of weirdo escapades, beginning with today.

Right now, I’m on summer break at my adopted parents’ home in Pattaya.

Today my ungodly body clock woke me up at 6.30 (this is due to the wicked ritual of ‘mandatory morning worship’ which is held in my dorm at 7:00 a.m. every morning and has now completely desecrated my ability to sleep in). After scrolling through Instagram for a while, I finally forced myself out of bed, and made a delicious breakfast of premium blend tea and quiche leftovers.

Ahhh that was the best breakfast I ever had. I fucking love leftovers.

My adopted parents’ drove me to see my sister, and we hung out at her workplace for a while and I had a delicious mint chocolate chip cupcake. Maybe I’m just writing this post because I want to talk about the food I ate today. Oh well.

Later I went through the nerve-wracking process at Pattaya’s City Hall to make a new national ID card. It was nerve wracking because it already takes a ton of courage for socially awkward me to have any interaction with people. And after being reprimanded by scarily intimidating staff, I left nearly on the brink of tears. And without an ID card (long story. Too long).

The good part of the day is that I got a wonderful new haircut where I chopped off most of my hair. Now my head feels like a floating balloon.

Have a great day!





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Sometimes, being a lady is a pain

You know it’s that ‘time of the month’ when you’re watching a TV series, and a character that you don’t even care about dies, but when you’re watching their funeral tears start welling up in your eyes.

We ladies have many problems sometimes. One of the most prominent ones is when jogging. Jogging is not simply jogging, my friends. As a lady, there are many factors to consider.

  1. The presence of men in the area and what is the likelihood of them staring at your boobs as you run.
  2. Boobs are a huge hassle. It’s not like with guys. With guys, they can run with the wind coasting over the smooth planes of their chests no problem. With women, we have two bouncing weights on our chests, and any wind that blows by just messes up our usually very long swishing hair.
  3. Also, I’m pretty sure I’ve nearly broken an arm a few times by attempting to remove a sweaty sports bra.

And our hair! There’s so much work that has to go into maintaining it. I’m pretty sure I have used a million tons of shampoo in my life time, money which probably could’ve gone into feeding a small third-world country. The amount of bobby pins I’ve acquired and lost could be melted and reassembled into a computer. All the elastics I’ve used could be made into a chain that stretches all the way around the world. But even after all that, at the end of the day my head looks like a bird’s nest. Or that of a very bedraggled ghost.

The pain, my friends, the pain.




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The Time I Discovered Something Beautiful

To write this post, I must consult some very wise sages. By wise sages, I mean the various quotes I’ve screenshot on my phone, from pages like WordPorn, TheGoodQuote and etc. I swear, these two accounts make up the philosophy for most of my life.

Guess who this girl is?


If you answered Angelina Jolie, you are correct!

Haha just kidding. It’s me.

What did I mean when I wrote the time I discovered myself? This may sound strange, but there does come a time when a girl suddenly realizes how beautiful she actually is. This is not because of a boyfriend or girlfriend, or of a multitude of compliments, or that she suddenly became gorgeous after going through puberty or plastic surgery. It is the result of a lifestyle, a period of time passing where she continuously thinks positively of her own self-worth to get to that point. That journey is what I’d like to share with you all, in the hopes that you one day discover yourself in the same way.

I grew up with very low self-confidence. And when I say low self-confidence, I mean that I thought of myself to look like nothing more than a slug in a gutter. To tell the truth, it was heavily influenced by the people around me, my family, friends, and even strangers. As young as 6 years old, I was told that I was too skinny or too dark-skinned, that my teeth were crooked (and henceforth ugly), my hair was too messy, my knees were too scarred up.

Even my best friend tore at my self-esteem. She did it with frowns when I wanted to wear a certain piece of clothing, telling me I wouldn’t look good in that. She would laugh when she talked about boys and I tried to partake in the conversation. ‘What boy would ever like you?’  When I wanted to try new things, she did it with snorts of disbelief. ‘You’ve never tried that before. Are you sure you want to do it?’

My parents did it too, in their own way.

By the time I was thirteen, I hated my reflection in the mirror. All I could see were the comments of everyone else. It drowned out the little voice in my head that told me I was beautiful anyway. To me, the world did not see me as beautiful, or even worthy. All I could think about were the boys who didn’t have crushes on me, on the girls who had plump arms and cute faces and bright, shining, straight-teeth smiles.

It took years to get to where I am now. Now people surprise me. They ask me how I can be so self-confident, and it makes me blush, because I wasn’t always like that. Now when I walk down the street, I turn heads. People take second glances. Because of my confidence, I get chosen to lead things. When I get up in front of a crowd, instead of having the urge to break down and cry, I swallow my beating heart and speak, loudly and clearly.

When I’m talking about beauty here, I don’t mean with physical features. And I don’t think it’s too proud to think of yourself in this way, as a force to be reckoned with. You are lovely and wonderful, as unique as you are. No one can ever be as amazing as you, so why would you want to hide that. Don’t be afraid to wear that crop top. Walk down the street with your head lifted high and a smile on your face. Laugh loudly, without fear that people will think you sound weird. When you enter a room, command everyone’s attention with your presence alone. Of course, don’t be rude and haughty about it. Humility and kindness are the most beautiful attributes a person can have.

We only have one life to live, and it’s too short to live it hating yourself, to pick flaws in your own personality and body. I value myself, even though I have acne, scars pockmarking my face. My teeth are still crooked. I have a burn scar on my right leg, and I’m still skinny and dark-skinned. But does that mean I’m ugly? No, it absolutely does not. Beauty is NOT physical attractiveness.

Beauty comes from the color of your soul, the inner workings of your mind and heart. I’ve seen people that society would consider as unattractive, but their faces shine, their hearts are warm. There are people on this earth who love and care so unconditionally, that their faces are brighter than the sun. I’m sure that as I say this, someone you know comes to mind. It doesn’t matter how old they are, how much they weigh, or how damaged their hair is. They are beautiful. We are beautiful.

I hope that what I’ve written today resonates in your heart somehow. No matter what you’ve been through, what people say about you, or even how badly you perceive yourself, there’s beauty in you. It is a permanent part of who you are, and all it takes is for you to realize that. And be free.

As always, have a great day!



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