Oxymoron In The Tropics

I'm such a terrible flibbertigibbet... at least when it comes to doing my PhD.  But then it isn't a choice to be lightly made. Over the weekend, I sat for hours and thought hard.  I had three other projects on my plate... could I handle a fourth?  Especially one as big as a PhD course?  Worse, it was to be done on a part-time basis. In the end, I realised that I was being too greedy, wanting everything.  But like an over-ambitious juggler, if I try to have too many balls flying up in the air, I may end up with all of them falling on the ground. Well, it isn't as if the PhD has an expiry date.  So back on the shelf those dreams go.  Again.   But, guys, I still want my books back.  I still want to do some research.

I've just taken my PhD dreams off the shelf and blown the dust off. Next step would be to track down my PhD-relevant books from various people who have borrowed the books while they lay dormant.   Hey, y'all... I want them books back! I am still unsure about which research area to focus on (I have two in mind) but what I am VERY sure about is that I MUST choose my supervisor carefully.  To me, that is way more important than the university.  After all, it is the experience and research I'm going after, not the name of the university.

Dear Annie John Dismas, I have never met you although our paths could have crossed some time some place. But when I heard about you, I saw a friend I could have met some time in this temporal existence.   Perhaps I could have taught your son or daughter.  He or she could have said something funny and I could have shared it with you when we met during PTA meetings.  Perhaps we might even have shared a cake during school events.  Or even some tears if your child was naughty.  But then perhaps I could have sat with you and we could have worked out a solution. Perhaps you could have helped me if I were to spend some time in a hospital.  You could have given me an injection (which I so dislike!) and made me forget the pain.  You could have told me stories while we waited for my turn to undergo treatment.  Maybe we could even have played cards together.  But how do I know what games or stories you like if I have never met you? Perhaps my son could have met your daughter and maybe we co...

One of the dangers of being a teacher is falling into a rut.  Year in, year out, you seem to be doing the same thing... although the clients change every time.  And if you don't watch out, the kids (and the solutions you implement) will begin to look the same and will begin to feel boring to you.  Since teaching is so closely tied to my emotional state of mind, I always need to stay 'excited' and 'revitalized', which means a change in my 'scenery' or 'focus' every few years.  Two days ago, Florence smsed me to tell me about an UPSI PhD briefing in KK.  Suddenly I remembered my shelved dreams.  It's not easy to begin a project like this... the time must be right... and the group of people too.  I'd got through my Masters with the help of friends supporting me through so many ups and downs.  I knew I needed the same thing with any further study I wanted to take up.  Some of my friends have signed up for this postgrad programme... some at Ma...