Reasons to keep your psych degree a secret:

1) people will always ask/wonder if you are analysing them.

2) people will ask you to analyse their *whomever*, whom you have never met.
for example:

lady: hey, since I have you here do you mind answering a question for me?

You: uh…no. shoot.

Lady: my ex-boyfriend has some serious mental problems, I think he has NPD or maybe ADD. What do you think?

You: I don’t know your boyfriend so I can’t say. Even if I did know him I’m not a licensed practitioner I’m not qualified to make any kind of diagnoses.

Lady: but you do have a psych degree don’t you?

You: yes…but it’s just a BA that doesn’t really mean much.

Lady: I think I must have an inborn psych degree.

You: even if you did, if it was just a BA it wouldn’t mean much.

Lady: but really, he has so many issues. I don’t think he knows how to love. Like seriously, he is incapable of loving and I was looking online and that is totally how they describe someone with NPD.

You: NPD eh?

Lady: you know, Narcissistic Personality Disorder.

You: Yes, I know what it means.

Lady: Then you know what I’m talking about.

You: Honestly Lady, I have no idea what you’re talking about.

Lady: Well, I’m sure he has NPD and maybe ADD. I’m not really sure what that is…but I’m sure he has it. And you know those defence mechanisms people use? Well he’s totally a projector.

You: is that so?

Lady: Totally. He was always projecting things on me.

You (to self): to bad it wasn’t a very heavy object, ‘cause then I wouldn’t be having this conversation.

Lady: Yeah, and whenever he talks to his sister he always asks her if she’s talked to “her” parents. Why does he do that? I think it’s because of the fact that he can’t love. His kids were always telling me that he was incapable of loving. That’s why I left him…that and because he was violent. He always used to throw things. He was always breaking my stuff. When I left him he tailgated me the entire time I was driving down the highway until I got to my friends house then he stood outside yelling at me to come back for an hour. I think that’s because he has ADD

You: yeah…I wouldn’t blame that on attention deficit disorder. Don’t get excited by the terminology but that behaviour is more characteristic of someone with an anti-social or even psychopathic personality…but since I’ve never met him this is based on your very biased observations.

Lady: Psychopathic..? yeah that sounds right.

You (to self): if I had a bio degree I’d diagnose you as clinically deaf.

Lady: My boss has NPD too. I swear she is totally borderline…and she’s a Jew!...

This was a real (abridged) conversation I had with a neighbour it continued for another 20 minutes wherein she proceeded to diagnose every other person in her life. Too bad she didn’t take the time to diagnose herself in the process.

So if you have a psych degree I suggest keeping it to yourself for the sake of your own sanity.

IN RE: Stefan Soleanu 1984- 2008

Wet Night

a true story in several acts.

as all stories go, this one begins with a boy and a girl.
as most stories go this one begins with a boy trying to impress a girl.
unfortunately as life usually goes things did not happen as they are planned.

Act 1
[enter our protagonists: boy, milo and toac]

perhaps it was a sign of things to come but from the beginning things did not happen as planned. the boy was supposed to bring a friend along to make things a little less triangulated but that fell through so with their very conspicuous third wheel milo, the boy and their chaperon set off on what turns out to be a very eventful night.

with a slightly awkward threesome options for the evening were limited so with no real plan for the evening they head to cafe mirage at Kennedy Commons.
[also note that cafe mirage is in the same plaza where milo and toac were last in a car - things did not go well. was it also a sign? perhaps.]

after what seems (to the waitress) to be hours and several failed attempts to order things not on the menu they finally order and slip into casual conversation.
the food is... fine.
conversation is...fine.
everything is...fine.
but overall things are going well. average dinner talk. nothing of note. then things start to spill-literally.

it starts with the salsa. it didn't even make it to the table but it's really no big deal no one really needs that much salsa anyways.

"i'll have a coffee." he says "i hate coffee".
what? then why did you order it?
"i hate it because i don't actually like it and still have to buy it."
do you see the logic in that? no? well that's how the conversation pretty much went for the night.
luckily for him he didn't actually have to drink it,
SPILL #2!
on the table, the floor...himself...
but he handles it with grace and wiping himself off he prompts toac to continue her story.

Very graceful.

but he's not the only one who has some food issues.

milo, in a selfless act, leaning across the table to rescue him from additional coffee drippage succeeds in her mission but sacrifices her girls to an unruly salad in the process.
but then again her girls pretty much get into (and out of) everything.
being ever the gentleman, the man of the hour offers to assist milo with the cleanup with some leftover nachos.
fortunately for her (and the nachos) no help was needed.

Act 2
perhaps trying to makeup lost ground at the end of the night he offers to foot the majority of the bill and hands the waitress his credit card- only to have it handed right back to him.
silly him! he forgot to activate the credit card (or so he says). that's okay - he has a backup (and i don't mean milo and toac).

now that the official plans for the evening are finished what's one to do? what's three to do when one has been embarrassed on a regular basis? what are three to do when there's a tsunami outside barring their escape from each other's company?
not that we really wanted to escape...really...

so what's one to do? tell stories and impart pearls of wisdom!

DID YOU KNOW THAT?
"gasoline is not flammable, it explodes."
oh really?
PLEASE CONSIDER THE FOLLOWING:
"there has to be a spark for it to ignite. you can't just drop a match and boom".
oh no?

apparently…

Act 3
finally the rain lets up. hallelujah!
but toac and milo don't want to go home just yet, it's too early and too dry to call it a night- but all of that will change.
the rain's lightened up just enough so that their hair can make a safe exit so they make a beeline for the door.

"where's the car?"
over there?
where?
isn't that it?
wait that's it
"here it is...don't touch the car!"
WHAT NOW?
his car alarm is malfunctioning. craaap.

"no don't touch it!"
why it's not going to explode?
not unless there's a spark.
(apparently)
turns out toac has a direct connection with the G-man.
cue the lightening! cue the thunder!
cue the cursing!
he's gotten the alarm situation worked out but dammit he left the lights on. dammit the battery is dead. DAMMIT!
oh wait i forgot, cue the torrential downpour...DAMMIT!

what do we do? where do we go? we're getting drenched? oh no!
thankfully the level headed milo suggests waiting in the car. smart girl.
so what does one do when one has absolutely no means of escape? make small talk of course.

what are we going to do?
alert the media?
smoke signals?
this is not the time to panic
cell phones?! huzzah.
he has plans with his friends- hopefully these friends will come to our rescue. no luck.
milo's friends? still no luck.
toac's friends? huzzah!

but what to do in the mean time? small talk again...DAMMIT!
what's left to discuss? we already know of his dislike for the words perhaps and suppose- they're a little too pretentious for his taste.
so talk turns to practical things, how is our knight in shinning armor going to give us a boost? we need to move the car.
but the car can't be moved with milo in it and being the cripple that she is she can't help push. what to do with her?
she offers to stand under the awning.
"the what?"
the awning...that thing sticking out over there...
protected by her pashmina.
"her what?"
you know...scarf.
"you and your big words!"
turns out he doesn't like the words pashmina and awning either.
milo then says "perhaps I'll go stand under the awning with my pashmina?"
"i suppose" toac concurs.
(funny? at least milo thought so)

but neither toac nor the boy are dressed for the occasion. what to do?
clothes swap!
unfortunately this is the one time milo is too small. try fitting a size nine foot into a size six boot. not impossible, but certainly not fun. try fitting a large Transylvanian man into a small ladies jacket - a lot more fun.
getting into one another's shoes is not the hard part, manouvering to get out of knee high boots in a two door sports car is the challenge. unfortunately (again) an Eagle Talon was not made to serve as a dressing room so accomplishing the clothes swap requires a considerable amount of flexibility and a certain level of dexterity normally only seen in young children and russian gymnasts.

Act 4
hark! what is this we hear? our noble hero has announced his arrival!
[enter noble hero]
but in order to save us he needs to find us first...
quick! someone get out of the car!
i can't get out!
you get out!
"wait! don't get out yet!!!"
stupid alarm! it is a fortune of sorts that causes the alarm to stop as the battery cuts out for once and for all.

what a night this has turned out to be.
with a quick hook up and an even quicker boost, followed by a hearty thanks from one and all, a few slaps on the back and a promise of beer our noble trio and shinning knight are on their way.

Act 5
now heading home much later than anticipated our incredible trio races down the street in an attempt to end the evening as soon as possible and hopefully avoid any other disasters only to be greeted by water works - to milo and toac's delight and his chagrin. all he needs now is a flooded transmission. But their new found luck is holding out.
they're almost home! but no sooner said, they're almost not as his confidence in his inner gps fails him.
aren't you supposed to turn down this street? ...dammit.
at least someone knows where milo lives (i'll give you a hint, it's not milo).

finally safe and sound a little wetter, a little wiser, a little worse for wear-
well, not really worse for wear, and not really wiser but yes, definitely wet- our protagonists have made it back to dailing gate.

Epilouge
sufficiently soggy they call it a night.
but all in all i have to admit
the misfortunes are what made it just right.