Nightmares

I had this weird dream last night- i dreamt i married a man i didnt love; in fact didnt like very much.

The wedding was in Brazil, i think Sao Paolo it was. My whole family was there and so were some people from uni.

The man i married was Malay (i know- what?!) and one of those quiet violent types, turning psychotic and violent when i brought up that this marriage was a mistake. I didnt think he loved me either.

In the nightmare after the wedding ceremony i ran off to go dancing with some friends (sans new hubby) and then ended up in a Sao Paolo slum injecting heroin while whinging to the lady supplying me with smack.

It was freaky because the person i married was so WRONG. He was just creepy. And we didn't like each other, not even in a human-to-human way.

That part about me being a heroin addict also is straight up disturbing.

To make me feel better- a nice song, with a video about being saved from your nightmares.

thinspire

Men who look better than me in dresses.
Owh i hate being me.

CANDY 1 from Luis Venegas on Vimeo.

First step to being a good Polish housewife

I was invited to my first Polish christmas dinner on sunday past.

The perfect* boyfriend of a friend decided to throw us a traditional Polish christmas dinner to celebrate his new job.

It's a 12 course meal, steeped in traditional and ritual.

I showed up early, bringing a bottle of champagne and ice- and was told there was no drinking. "There's no drinking on Polish Christmas dinner" he says. What? Polish and no drinking? I was flabbergasted. Ok....nevermind. I offered to help with preparation- and he tells me to defrost the carp. It's a whole carp, like with the head and all, if im not wrong, flown/shipped/lorried from Poland. Ok....im still calm, but it he's starting to panic.

I switch into bossy, organized, housewife in kitchen mode (i admit, i do have this aspect of my personality i'd rather not explore) in the light of the panic. At least i rise to the occasion (so he said......;P)

I ended up chopping fish, running out for last minute supplies, frying various sorts of dumplings and keeping the boy sane. It all went well in the end.

The dinner started with the sharing of holy bread- it's the proper blessed stuff. It's a really sweet thing where you go around the table, taking a piece of each other's bread and wishing something for the person in the next year. It was kinda emotional, but really heartwarming.

Then (2) is boiled eggs with heart attack inducing, super-delicious polish mayonnaise. It symbolises purity and new year, so we had to finish the whole tray. Not a problem. I was licking the mayonnaise of my plate. Even the eggs were from Poland. Tesco eggs just wouldn't do.

(3) Beetroot soup (that looks like blood and stains lips a gorgeous red) with mushroom dumplings served with (4) croquets

(5) THE POLISH CARP. Defrosted, sliced (a fucking mission), battered and fried. Fried and served straightway; it was soft, fresh and delicious. I wish there was more. The bones were hell and there's bread on the table just in case someone gets bones stuck in their throat. Eaten with (6) mashed beetroot and horseradish and (7) marinaded, pickle slippery jack mushrooms.

No, unfortunately our carp wasn't that big :( The story is that the freshness of the carp is so important that in Poland people will keep the carp alive in the bathtub to kill and cook on the day of the dinner itself. So yeah, no baths before christmas.

(8) Pickled herring (my absolute favorite!) which my friend had trouble with. He cant stand the look of it. The thing it, it's said that the 12 courses are for the 12 months of the year, and so you have to eat a little bit of everything or not the course you miss will mean a bad month in the coming year. He had some in the end. He won't be buying it again, but it wasn't as bad as he imagined it was.



(9)Boiled-fried-dumpling (i cannot say anything in polish, but i swear that was what it translated to). Filled with cabbage and fungus (like the edible sort not the feet kind). By this point, i was kinda bursting. But dinner must go on......

(10)Lazy dumpling- cottage-cheese like cheese, with a thin pastry covering- fried in butter and covered in sugar that's allowed to caramelize. Heaven, because you'll have a heart attack eating that but you'll die happy. Perfect just off the pan, hot and melty......

(11)Sweet pasta salad, with poppy seed+honey+almond paste, walnuts and raisin. Yum, but i was seriously full up to the gills by this point.

(12) Desserts-

(a) Polish cherry cheesecake. Piquant cherry, that creamy cottage-cheese like cheese and chocolate sponge. At this open i was accessing the special dessert pouch my stomach has.


(b) Polish tree cake. I thought it was called tree cake because it looks like tree bark
but no, it's called tree cake because at the shop, where it's made it actually looks like a tree (a cone, and they stick branches at the top). Tree cake rocks. By this point, i could not move. Neither could anyone else. Hence......

WE ALL MISSED THE LAST TRAIN HOME.

And then was the adventure of bringing lotsa-lotsa yummy polish dinner food home (one of us had a box, i had 2 plastic bags full of tuppeware) on the bus. One to east london, 2 to heathrow, one more to south london and one lucky fella lived in central london. We didn't get any pictures of the meal because we were having to much fun cooking, eating and messing about. It was loads of fun and such a fantastic cultural experience (cliched but so true). And those fungus dumplings go so well with a lettuce salad for lunch today.

*My mate's boyfriend is perfect, except for the little thing about commintment phobia. Other than thats he's perfect. Im jealous. But what's a girl to do?

Time flies when you're drunk and you dont give a fuck

-The Kills-

I know, it dont really matter; does it really matter if we go insane my darling?

Merci Garance, pour la chanson!

Guilty pleasures

I dreamt i got a tattoo-but it got botched up. Even in my dream i had the dilemma, in the end i decided on a small heart (how tacky) on the tip of my right shoulder. In my dream a girl i knew but didn't particularly like was the tattoo artist and all i noticed was her hands were trembling. It was a very odd dream, but most of mine are.

Random thoughts of a drugged up me at 2.50 in the morning when disappointed by the UKFPO

Im being drugged up for my back, which is killing me. I have no idea why. My foot, which was killing me on monday is fine. My limp is barely perceptible, i just walk slow. It doesn't hurt as much as my back. Why my back?! My physio will just have to bear with me tomorrow. The unlucky man.

Codeine based painkillers rock. I understand the attraction, the cause for addiction. The pain really does all go away. Ibuprofen makes my tummy unhappy. Gotta have food/milk with it. Im so gonna be a fat fuck if i keep this up. Ugh. Cannot miss a dose of painkillers. Missed my post dinner dose and now im paying for it.

I still dont know where im gonna end up working. Is it London? Is it Wales......maybe Jersey? The anticipation (and back pain) is kiling me. It's supposed to be out today.....sigh...

Im scared that i'll be riddled with this sad, fat, useless body forever. And that i'll be addicted to narcotics and fat and unhappy.

Ok, maybe i need some sleep.

You know that tacky yet cute english christmas film, love actually it's called, there's a story about a guy who is in love with his best friend's wife and he tells her over christmas, with placards rather than saying it? I love this line: And my wasted heart will love you. Just 'cause. In the movie it looks like this:


Ok, sleepy time. :P

Lisfranc Injury

I fell yesterday.
A little fall, nothing major, but, my God, it hurt.

I kinda fell like this:

It was on a stairs at the tube station. I managed to hobble home.

I got home, propped it on a pillow, put some bandages on and slept. Or at least tried to sleep. The pain was excruciating. It throbbed, i could feel every pulse in my foot.

This morning i couldn't walk on it. At all. I called a cab and made my way to the hospital i used to work. I jumped along on one foot, with my shinai in it's bag as a crutch. A lovely girl helped me into A&E, holding on to me as i hobbled along. Bless her beautiful heart.

A&E was empty. I had 2 lots of x-rays and given the all clear. I do not have a Lisfranc. Well, it's hard to diagnose, but we'll see. If im still swollen and in pain by wednesday it would be a Lisfrance for sure (says the lazy finalist).

Im now on regular on co-codamol and ibuprofen and going to sleep it off.

Pray that i get well soon- bless all your beautiful hearts. x

Should i bring the little red polka dot bikini?

I just received a very curt text from my dad saying that the whole family- when i say whole i mean 18 person entourage, from granny to baby cousin- is going to Phuket for 5 days over christmas.

The dates are such that i'll be missing my friend's wedding. Damn it, the dress just arrived today as well. It's prettier in real life, all flowly, forgiving and just a little bit of elegant shine from the sequiny bit. I didn't get shoes in the end, good thing too, seeing as i wont be going.

Sometimes, my dad pisses me off when i get ultimatums like this.

Now the big question is how many swimming outfits to bring and if i get away with the little red polka dot bikini in front of my aunts. Hmm, it may accidentally expose my tattoo. You know, that little one on my left.............just kidding. I dont have a tattoo, though i wish i could have one. Why i cannot is a complex issue, something involving going to hell.

But i'll be packing at least 2 swimming outfits, my beach dresses and leggings. And i better be working on those sit ups.

This is a mystery for us. One of the weirdest videos ever but i love adrien brody.

I hate being fat

It's tough being fat and fabulous.
If i can say so myself.

It's so much more work. Finding clothes, faking confidence and trying to look good while lugging around the extra weight of a large child is exhausting.

It's taking it's toll on my psyche. Im tired of working so hard. Clothes, make-up, exercise- so much effort just to look 'acceptable', to not be a fat-freak. It's also psychologically difficult. To act comfortable in my own body, to not want to hide away, to be so different; an outcast in normal, BMI under 25 society. I have to constantly convince myself i am as good as everyone else, i deserve to be here though i dont feel it.

I have to work hard to make myself different, special. Not having good looks to play on, i have to develop skills and knowledge to ensure i stay relevant in society. To be accepted, so to speak. But acceptance isn't enough; i want adoration, love, envy.

I want it all.....muahahhaha.....

I hope never to lose my sense of humour though. Never. It's the only thing that keeps me going. The fact that i know God is probably having a good giggle watching me trying so hard. Im thinking if i keep at it, maybe God will give in. Alter my metabolism, warp my genes and give me the miracle that is skinny, smart and happy.

Wedding dressing

Another friend is getting hitched in a few weeks and it suddenly dawned upon me i need something to wear to the wedding.

Dressing up for someone's wedding a task full of possible pit falls and faux pas.
There's so much to keep in mind.

To not upstage the bride, never-never wear white....or black (but some argue nowadays you may get away with it, especially if it's an evening do). Not too short, especially for religious ceremonies...and argh, need to still look good because hey, you never know if there's good looking cousins/friends of the groom about.

The recent summer wedding was easy- a random prom-style, sleeveless floral navy blue dress with bright leggings and sky-high wedges and pretty hair accessories did it. Nothing was new, all the stuff i kinda had lying about. I even wore it to buy bagels the next day.

For this one, since it's a malay wedding...oooh, it's hard. I've ordered a bandeau floor length maxi dress in black to wear with a hot pink kabaya top. Only problem is the chest area of the dress is in black sequins. Hmmm. Black and possibly shinier than the bride. We'll see. Im making an effort because apparently the groom has hot cousins. Im so one-track-minded, it's sad. At least there's not gonna be booze or a bouncy castle, so im not gonna get myself in trouble.

Im keeping the make-up simple, i promise.

Later:

Guess what? I've found the perfect mirrored patent leather wedges to wear with the dress. Can't wait. I'll drive myself to broke-ness if i keep this up for all the weddings i will eventually attend [that doesnt mean you shouldn't invite me, it just means i need to rewear things :( ]

So, it's not just me then....

from Postsecret
And me.

It could've been red hot chili peppers

I made chilli con carne tonight- the generous splish of red wine and chunks of plain chocolate makes it pretty good. I also think the constant patter of rain makes comfort food like chilli that-little-bit-better.

The super lovely sensei today said such nice things about my kendo it made me want to cry (with joy and gratitude). He's so sweet, so encouraging, that i feel better about my kendo. I must make sure to jigeiko with him very few weeks, just for the confidence.

I agree, i am turning into a sop of a girl. Im losing my edge. This is disturbing, yet interesting to watch how in the past-say 5 years, i've turned from granite to soft chocolate chunk cookie.

The point i wanted to make actually was that this song sounds like rhcp. Anthony Kedis or Chris Cornell? Tough one.....

I wonder

Do I shop to compensate for something else? More clothes, shoes and make-up will NOT fix ANYTHING.

What's with Christmas underwear? The spirit of giving (place preferred sexual favour here)? Really?!

Is my obsession with tumblr blogs full of the pictures of pretty, skinny, young things a way for me to inspire self-hate and thus induce self-destructive, yet very effective dieting methods or just that i fancy pretty girls?

That idea that if you have a tendency to think you look horrible is most photographs means that you're vain because you think you should look better than what the objective camera lens is showing you makes sense?

when am i ever a womanly threat? Only when she steals my chocolate. Ouhhhhh...that's asking for it. But really, in any other situation, i ain't good enough to be dirt next to you darling.

how many calories are there is duck rice? Oh Ana, forgive me. Pardon your silly, weak daughter.

is it that i hate myself and i want to die, or more of i hate myself so i wanna be better; but i can't, so i might as well die. If a beautiful young model who walks for chanel thinks her life is so mundane she tops herself; what the hell am i doing still walking around?

what was it? I keep replaying it in my head;what i felt, what i thought- was it denial? is it; is it not? I'll never know and neither will you.

The friend goggles theory- is it (a) we see our friends as beautiful, amazing people because we see past their imperfections and appreciate the beauty of the whole person or (b) we are vain creatures that believe we only surround ourselves with similarly beautiful creatures.

when will i be able to afford lipo, the nose job, a body transplant and a life coach?

if you were right. It scares me that you know me so well.
We accept the love we think we deserve.

stop eating, keep puffing (exercise and ciggies, of course).

It's never gonna happen, is it?

The way to 1000 haya suburi

I think not. But it's funny, in a way perhaps only kendoka can appreciate.



Seriously, listen to it. Too funny. But that's what i do on a monday evening and saturday afternoons. It sounds more like a whip in the clip, real shinais make a sound between a "pop" and a "twack" when it hits right.

Since my sensei made me well up in tears during practice i've not gone back. That's 3 practises already.

What happened: My foot hurt and i wanted a break.....was told a stern "no!" and had to continue. The whole team had to do 100 haya suburi because i was slacking- i kinda died at 30 and was told off (indirectly). I went home with a sore foot and sprained, tense shoulders that were knotted and stiff for 3 days.

I fear this may mark the end of my kendo. I love it, but im not sure if i can do this anymore. Im not sure i have the discipline and strength of character to continue kendo. Im also real awful for someone who has been practicing for a whole year and 2 months.

Not so pleasant

You know what i said about this town not being nice?

Well, what happened today freaked me out, a little.

A really creepy sorta guy followed me off the bus and walked behind me for 5 minutes.

I walked fast, feeling a little suspicious, keeping an eye on the guy's shadow. I was thinking i was probably being paranoid, this guy could not be following me. To be safe i fished my keys outta my bag and planned to walk to the supermarket to try and see if this guy was really trailing me.

About 50 meters from my door the perv walkes up quickly and puts a hand on my behind.

I turn around, shouted angrily and shoved the guy. Then i run, looking behind me as i round the street corner to my door. He wasnt following me, so i quickly went into the house.

Im angry......but more so, im scared. I didnt think stuff like this happens to girls like me. I know it's not my fault, at all, but it still make me never want to wear a pencil skirt again.

A pleasant surprise

is coming home post gig and discovering that the black t-shirt i bought is actually a charming shade of dark green.

Oh Uncle Karl!

Of course it's true...
But it's cheap
What a depressing word...it's all about taste.
If you are cheap, nothing helps.


** On a side note- uncle karl does not make clothes for 'chubby' people. Tis very depressing. Only one thing to do. Lose it!**

The wheels keep on turning

With every pedal im riding the bike into the ground.

I just spent money on a new wheel and i've managed to break my cycle basket.

And the gears are fucked.

My oh my.

It needs to survive the next 8 months. Then we'll know where we'll be, and think about getting a new steed.

I feel bad that i dont want to send him for a proper repair, but i'd rather save up for a new bike, you know?

I feel like im betraying him now, looking at new bicycles, while he's there in the foyer, trying his best to work through rain, fucking london traffic and all the abuse.

Finished my scarf!

It took a year and a half, but it's done!

My first knitting project, all finished.

It's like 8 cm wide and 2.2 meters long.

The idea, when starting it, was to give it to the boyfriend, cos i was hoping when it was finished, there'll be one in the picture.

There isn't, so i'll use it instead, till the man decides to show up.

Bloody men, they're never there when you need them.

Im back of caffeine!

Oh i did miss you.
Why did i ever let you go?
My poor heart went so slowly.....perk up, perk up!

Milk, two sugars and strong enough to wake the dead.

hah, with that heart rate, i could be. I like my caffeine induced arrhythmia with hypotension, thanks.

It's clear i've had too much cardiology as well, right?

Caffeine and Nicotine Withdrawal

I suck without my stimulants. I hate that i *shouldn't* smoke. Ahhhhh......

It is worth living a long life in a sleepy, 'out-of-it' daze or living a short, but alert nicotine driven life?

Did not have coffee today because i felt shy to crash the doctor's meeting. I stole a brownie later when the doctors disappeared, but i hate that they are not kind.

Dazed.

NHS care!

My physiotherapist has big, warm hands.

In his opinion i have defective hip muscles, shit balance and tight-tight muscles. It embarrassing when you have to bare all cellulite and flabby tum so they can 'see' what's happening and scrutinize my walk/squats/lumbar over-lordosis.

Im due for rehab.

This is a 10 months after my ski injury. All started with a dodgy right knee after an excruciating fall after skiing over some rocks. There were times during that holiday i fell into unbelievable positions which im sure limbs are never suppose to be in. Damn skis that wont come off.

Beautiful people overload

I'm having a moment of beautiful people overload. Im surrounded. It's a conspiracy to make me feel uglier!!!!!!!!!!

Equinox

During my pagan phase i used to know what that meant. I was also doing geography at the time, guess that must've helped.

I still think the moon has influence on my mood and womanly cycles, a bit like the tides.

But we are far from the equinox here in the northern hemisphere, the days are shortening; the cold and dark is descending sudden and heavy.

Im unashamedly crazy about the new death cab for cutie number; funnily enough, on the New Moon soundtrack, called 'Meet me at the equinox'. I sure it means something clever, but i cant quite figure it out.

It's odd, i think, that Frank Turner has not made it big. Like, absolutely huge.

I think he's amazing. He's an essential part of my British Experience - his songs reflects the oddities of the English going-out scene, lots of social commentary, a bit of existential crisis thrown in with a cute english accent. Also, the lyrics hit an emotional soft spot for me. The music makes me feel, a good thing when i'm growing numb and boring.

Went to his show in Shepherds Bush last week and it rocked! He's an amazing singer and as Ka-chan commented, adorably cute as well. We have a weakness for musicians and boys with curly hair. His rendition of an old english folk song about a cruel jealous girl called barbara allen wanted to make me cry and it was sheer joy to sing along to 'the ballad of me and my friends'.





It was a great gig- one of the best i've been to in awhile. The videos are from the gig i went to. Sweet.
Just got my copy of Love Ire & Song today.....so im kinda obsessed for the mo'.

Girl crush deux

from garance dore

It's the hair. My hair's growing out now that i'm tempted to get it trimmed just that little bit shorter at the neck. She's fucking gorgeous.

The oddest conversation:
" You're lucky- your boyfriend's charming, funny and hot. If only he was straight and not dating you"
"He's bi, you know."
"Huh? Oh sweetheart, let's not even go there. "

I owe it all to crazy friends

I now am a proud owner of a silver-grey, snake-skin print corset. And a blond wig, studded leather shoe-boots and gloves (matchy, matchy), home-slashed leggings and a scratchy yet fabulous faux gorilla fur glam jacket.

Im a lucky girl indeed. Yes, that is such a thing as faux gorilla fur.

Hmmm, slightly tipsy off blood wine (the totally unrefined, yet delicious combination of red wine and coke).

They made me look so hot. These guys are amazing.

Oh yeah, me and the 'boy that was the reason i came to london' have fate. I met a friend of his today who by the way is uber-cute, if a little annoying but with a gorgeous head of hair. So random.

We're waiting for pizza

Im wearing my pyjamas and a pair of studded, high-heel leather shoe boots, listening to frank turner.

Im using a cheese grater on a shirt. KY is stained pink from standing in the bathtub with said shirt on while i splatter red coloring all over him. That was fun. Now im just shredding my fingers and my feet hurt from the shoes.

But i will persevere because, "i wont sit down, and i wont shut up. Most important i will not grow up".

i did something

I've been thinking about it for awhile.

Some people said 'yeah, go for it'.
Most were adamant i shouldn't.

KY is gonna kill me. So will my mother.

I decided to run the risk. After all, what's the worse that could happen?

Famous last words......

I did it though. It's done.



I chopped off all my hair. Straight it's skimming my shoulders.
A woman who cuts her hair plans to change her life, right?
We'll see after it's had a wash; once it goes all curly.

Tawakal

This email is to confirm that your online application for the FP 2010 recruitment round has been received.

Your answers in the 'Questions' section will now be scored by your first choice foundation school. For more information on scoring and the next steps in the application process, refer to the "Foundation Applicant's Handbook".

Your application results will be available on 9 December 2009. From that date, you can login to your account for details of your overall application score and your foundation school allocation (if you have been successful).

Regards
The UK Foundation Programme Office

I love him!

My consultant is the yummiest, bestest, coolest consultant ever!

Heart!

I wanna grow up to be just like him. *wishes very hard*

say it loud

Post-kendo voice strain.

Probably the only sport where not only do the muscles and ego hurt, but my throat too.

committed

London to Kuala Lumpur, Thu, 25 Mar, 22:00, Flight MH1, Economy

Kuala Lumpur to London, Sat, 22 May, 23:40, Flight MH2, Economy

That was a lot of money. I hope i made the right decision. Too safe, lizzie, too safe.
When are you going to amaze yourself and do something crazy/exciting/brave and amazing?

Halloween

It's gonna be scary this year.

There might be a corset, fishnets, a blond wig and leopard print.

There will be 'single ladies', sexy men and an american football player.

I have to starve till the 31st. Did i mention corset? Oh yes, and he did mention leather and a whip too. It will be an interesting night. I wont let the pictures get on facebook. Promise.

Tell me, where can i get one for myself?

Yes, the smith's is the ultimate original. But I do like the death cab's version, but they changed that essential line which i love: "It's gruesome that someone so handsome should care". Morrisey does sound more the part of a dead-sexy charming man though. I am looking for a beautiful acoustic version, but nothing on youtube sounds quite like i want it too.

So here's the smith's version. It's actually older than me.

punctured bicycle
on a hillside desolate
will Nature make a man of me yet?

When in this charming car
this charming man

Why ponder life's complexities
when the leather runs smooth on the passenger seat?

I would go out tonight
but I haven't got a stitch to wear
this man said "It's gruesome
that someone so handsome should care"

A jumped-up pantry boy
who never knew his place
he said "return the rings"
he knows so much about these things
he knows so much about these things

I would go out tonight
but I haven't got a stitch to wear
this man said "It's gruesome
that someone so handsome should care"

This charming man
this charming man

A jumped-up pantry boy
who never knew his place
he said "return the ring"
he knows so much about these things
he knows so much about these things
he knows so much about these things

Go figure. A lovely person, Chloe Le Fay on song meanings gives this *charmant* interpretation:

"Handsome and sexually confused young cyclist crashes and punctures one of the wheels, leaving him stranded, until he's picked up by a strangely obliging gent who convinces him that getting married would be a mistake and a fiasco, and presumably seduces him on the smooth leather of the passenger seat. Gotta love it."

It's official; my gaydar is dead.

And there's a country-banjo version too. right here.

It only gets weirder and weirder. I'd giggle if i wasn't mourning the death of my gaydar.

Just keep breathing

It doesnt matter if you are sent miles away; away from friends, from london, from all that is known and familiar.

Right?

It does, it does!!!! And why am i shopping online for coats when i should be working on this fucking application?! Why, why why?!!!!

I am a fucking idiot! (im sorry delicate ones, but the foul language is necessary to express how frustrating this is!)

This application hurts. and it matters so much, so so much. Papa was right, i do fear change. I am a true ox birth sign, i like stability, the known, the certain.

I hate the future. It's scary, unpredictable and uncertain. What i hate more is that i cannot express myself properly. I am a stuttering idiot! As ditsy and stupid as they come.

I imagine, in an evolutionary kind of picture, i should not have survived past my 10th birthday. Im not designed for surviving this kind of environment. I dont have the right adaptations. I should be dead. I semi-wish i was sometimes. It's so hard and i try and try because the shame of failure is too much but i'm nothing. That sucks and i just hate myself more and try harder and the vicious cycle keeps on going.

I survived!

I hope my patients did too.

I was almost dead by 6 am..... but coffee, lovey doctors and jaffa cake bars kept me going.

Woke up at 3 in the afternoon and was fed a lovely sunday roast!
Yes, i am a lucky, lucky cow.

The morning of many entries

I want to go skiing over christmas. But this is where i play grown up and do what i should do!!!! Argh!


But, this has made me sooooooo excited to see the decemberist in london!

As you can see, ive not been working on my job application. Shite!

This for all of us, whose hearts arent strong, just elastic/pliable:

Bénis sont les coeurs qui peuvent se plier, ils ne seront jamais cassés
-albert camus-

Sometimes i think, wouldn't it be nice if we were

-from postsecret-

But then i think...nah, that'll be boring.
Come on God > Universe > The Fates > Eros/Cupid, you can do better....right?
Love, adventure, excitement, hot-like-a-volcano with a great sense of humour but also responsible and sweet...

Interventions

I feel bad.
I made her cry. I haven't done that to another girl since high school. Not like i've made boys cry either, but i wish i could.

Im not a heartless bitch. I just told her what she needed to realize. What i've known all along.

We're smart girls, we know where we've fucked up.

It's just denial is so much nicer. Avoiding it means it doesn't exist, right? I'm coping.....really.....I'll do it, later...

Hmmm, lessons i haven't learnt myself. And im trying to tell you it's gonna keep on nipping at your heels, haunting the moments before you fall asleep until you learn it. and fix it.

Because we want it badly enough. So badly the pain is worth it. Because it will hurt. There is a price to pay, always.

So i tell myself. and im teling you. Our battles are different, but the lessons the same.

owh, it's tomorrow..........

Well, if you dont hear from me soon you know what happened.

Ah, the wednesdays

I've been lying around my house in my pyjamas for the past 12 hours.

i came home last night to tv and defrosted rendang. Fell asleep in front of the telly watching the departed. Thought i'd start work at midnight, but instead passed out till this morning.

I moved to the living room- thick toast with kaya, lovely cafetier expresso and leftover rendang while lounging watching daytime tv. I needed a change of scenery after a terrible case of Judge Judy and crawled back into bed.

It's quater to 1 now and im running a bath to try and save my day.

very Lush thinking, but if a DJ can save my life, im sure a bath can save my day. And my job application. Drag me out of depression. Stop me from having that cigaratte.

Tough call for a bath, but it might just do it. The bath is full now, teedleedoo.

I need nicer knees

wah, shy!

p/s i cannot draw.

Click to enlarge



catalog of injuries:
1. sore left thumb
2. very bruised ego

Life's difficult for stupid, fat and ugly girls.

Truth.

that's why you only see smart, skinny pretty ones.

Im almost there, but at least i can catch a cold. Hmphhhpfttt....what's the use of that?

Ineffective friday night spent in my living room wrapped up in homework watching Christian Bale in Equilibrium (the man is beautiful).

Blissful sleep. Wishful thinking.

Slow start this morning, working on my job application form. White space questions suck.
This cold is growing on me. The tickle in my throat is turning into a cough and im getting all coryzal.

Holy crap!

I enjoyed my day in paeds.

I'm getting old- im starting to tolerate children. As long as i can hand them back.

I've lost my stetoscope

and to be honest i have lost so much more today.

Im an idiot.
I hate it that i cant help it. My brain's quit, keeled over, quite dead. I'm still alive. I'd thought brain failure would cause instant death.

Instead it's slow. Painfully slow. As slowly as the smoke will cause cells in my lungs to go renegade suicide.

Hmmm.

Fear

I've had a few run ins with crime lately, but i witnessed today takes cake.

It's midnight on a saturday and im waiting at the bus stop. It's pretty cold and im singing to myself. The roads are empty, with the odd person walking by once and awhile.

On the opposite side of the road a man falls off his bike. A misjudgement of the kerb, not that anybody hit him. The roads are empty. I stand up to look- he doesn't look terribly hurt. I think about running to help, but i see 2 guys running over to him.

Instead of helping him up one of them tugs the bicycle from under this guy and ride away with it. The other runs after his friend. They're laughing.

The poor man gets up to run after them. Im in shock. I wonder if i should shout, say something. Yell help.....but i didnt. I stared, in shocked just stared. The boys cycle/run into the park and the man runs in after them. Im still shocked silent. No one passes by that i can ask to help. Im alone, with no phone.

2 minutes later, the other boy is riding on the bike out of the park. He throws off the man's shopping that is hanging on the handlebars. His friend runs off in the opposite direction. I'm too scared to shout anything. I worry about myself. No one passes, still. I stand there; alert, scared.

5 minutes later a bus ambles along. 10 minutes later im home safe. I pray that the guy is alright. I wish i had the guts to do something, anything.

This city is starting to scare me.
People are starting to scare me.

The funniest thing this week

Crime victim part two

My bicycle, the second one, was the victim of an attempted robbery tonight.

They took my basket off my bike, stole the D-lock that was inside and tried to steal the bike.

Luckily my locks held. Instead they decided to bend my back wheel, rendering my bike un-cycleble and forcing me to push my bike home. A whole 40 minutes walk, at night, near midnight.

Again it was Ka-chan that helped me get through my cycle woes. She talked to me most of the way back, kept me company and sane.

I need to get a new back wheel. And a new D-lock.

Now i wish i didnt bought those shoes today.



the mood in this song is right. It sings of diets, the sea, allergic reactions to anasthetic agents, smoking and seeing the past and the future in perfectly while drowning.

This is what i'm working towards in Kendo

It's all about coordination and stamina. Both of which i don't have.

He looks like a Tim

I have a weakness for cocky, confident doctors. There, i said it.

Tim's one of our jr docs and well, he sets my heart a-flutter whenever he winks at me an asks if i wanna do a cannula. And i loved the way he offers to watch, just in case i flounder. Little he knows i flounder when he's around because my heart rate goes up by about 20 bpms.

He's awful nice to my jr doc- he helps her out a lot, but sure as hell makes her pay for it. She has to pamper his ego. I like a man with a big ego. He knows he's good and looks sexy doing it. A serial flirt, this one. Average score when it comes to looks, but he's got some nice bouncy veins i could cannulate blind folded. A pretty nice bum too.

My attempt at getting him to "show" me the mess has been thwarted today by my jr doc, i dont blame her, i'd have a soft spot for the guy who does my difficult cannulas too. Maybe i should just stay late and be his slave for the evening (on the wards!)

Mancandy, it keeps me going.




Sweet, sweet heart killer -say hi to your mom.

My cute work shoes arrived today

obsession

Vampires
Zombies
True Blood
The Postal Service.

A song that combines all of that. Hell yeah. The CD's already on the way. Say Hi To Your Mom- Blah, blah, blah.

whiskey and cigarettes

That voice.
Stereophonics do foo fighters.

Trouble

Oh no, I see,
A spider web is tangled up with me,
And I lost my head,
The thought of all the stupid things I've said.

Oh no, what's this?
A spider web, and I'm caught in the middle,
So I turn to run,
The thought of all the stupid things I've done.

So I twist and turn,
Here am I in my little bubble.


Some songs just say it better

The scales of truth

It don't lie.

It gives us good news today. Good news that makes exhaustion, nausea, and tummy pain all worth it.

This weekend

1. Slept little
2. On friends' sofa.
3. Talked much
4. About religion, politics, race and paranoia.
5. Scored stuff, though im useless at smoking now. Can't tolerate the good stuff no more. Im such a pussy.
6. Learnt of love and loss, vicariously.
7. Ate too much, especially during the day.
8. Good times and old friends.

Spare my little heart!

Im not a romantic. Let's get that straight.

Im a realist with a mushy, shloppy heart that's small and prone extreme joy and sadness. It's also indestructible, but rebuilding is painful so please don't test that aspect.

My little heart has been given lots surprises this week.

Two dear friends got engaged! Not to each other, but to their respective partners.

MAZEL TOV!
(i like how it means literally good destiny or good fortune and generally congratulations)

Hmmmm, makes me feel like listening to simply red.

low volume, high calorie

Fatty alert!

The irony:

Your chubby friend is now posted on an bariatric firm. I sit there among chubby people whose BMI are close to mine, while the doctors advise them to get weight loss surgery.

Funny, very funny.

Also: i almost fainted in surgery on tuesday. I blacked out for a little bit, wobbled but remained standing. I blame fasting and bad circulation. I actually feel weak and get headaches by the end of the day, especially now that i cycle 4 miles to hospital and back everyday. We have a shower and a changing room at the educational centre so i can still look chic in hosp. i make myself eat lots at night just so that i dont feel woozy before noon the next day. By 2 everyday im ready to collapse, and i have to lie down when i get home for the headaches dont go away.

It's raining heavily outside, i might sleep early and hope to wake to a sunny morning.

bisous.

Dadah-D'-Bunga

Don't ask.

Paris was fun. He's a lovely one. I always get the lovely ones. Im lucky that way.

Im sure france is trying to kill me. Skiing injury, boating accident and flying off bicycles. Masochistic me still loves her though.


The new academic year has started. I'm not ready, don't think i'll ever be, but hell. Things need to be done, right? Opportunities are rolling in front of me like shiny penny falling from a careless pocket, but i can't seem to catch them. Im too scared to even try.


I hate decisions. Especially important, ambiguous ones where it's not clear what i should do.


hm.
it's a getting older thing, isn't it, this worrying about things out of my control?
Gargoyles are an interesting concept.

Banged up and lonely

I came back from france yesterday.

I fell of a boat, a bicycle and into abject loneliness.

Was saved in paris by a friend. Who, in spite of everything, is still a friend.

I have the oddest tan lines, there is a leaf shaped light area on my chest where my pendant sits.

I start 5th year tomorrow, so help me god.

Notes on life

1. i passed exams. Thank you God and all those who prayed for me.

2. Mother thinks im fat. Need to get back on the crazy exercise and restraining. Thinspo: on!

3. All my summer work plans are going down the toilet.

Internal debate

A part of me thinks you should really just have the balls to say fuck all and do what you want. That's the part of me that's selfish but bold and strong.

But then, im also proud that you decided to put the needs of another ahead of yours. How selfless and grown-up. What a mighty-good-man thing to do (im not being sarcastic, ok). That's my considerate, thoughtful side.

And then the truly evil side of me thinks: am i the cause for worry? Tee hee......i kinda makes me feel wicked, in a good naughty way.

Either ways im fucked.

A suicide classic: Alone again, naturally. Ok, it's a little extreme for the circumstances, but who do you turn to when it all goes bad- classic sad music and movies and maybe cigarettes, booze and chocolate. Chocolate will always love you- a dangerous, possesive love, for no one else loves a fatty.

The Decemberist are playing london!

And instead of being a silly cow, as i have been proving the past few days, i have purchased 2 tickets, promptly.

Colin Maloy, feel the love. And the rest of the band too. That's the charm of following him on Twitter. I opted not to go when they were here in 2007 and how i have regretted that decision, till now.

Ah, the Hazards of Love.

Now, anyone wanting to escort me on the night? It's 21 pounds for a night of the decemberist and my lovely company. Plus some bad singing and a night on the town in highgate where we will get as drunk as sailors in true decemberist style. I'll even wear period dress, if i could find and fit into one.

And my one true love, if you are reading this, now or in some years to come- i'd like the decemberist back catalogue (you can 'own' it if you want, but you must share) and a few of carson ellis's artwork. I love you, now and forever. Do come to the gig if you are in town. And if you dont have a ticket- i've got an extra.

I cannot find a decemberist version, but this man does a good version and helps with vocabulary in the beginning. Love the lumberjack look!

Warning- please dont listen if you are suicidal, have recently suffered or suffering from depression or have had a recent major life event; especially those involving failed relationships and/or the roman empire.

Not yet!

I'd like to think that im concerned about the welfare of others. hah.

I just don't like the idea of people cursing my death. So no jumping in front of trains at rush hour or stepping in front of the bus (although being someone's cause for PTSD is a twisted kinda way to be remembered) is outta the question.

I have to settled debts (MARA), move out, give away all my belongings and apologize to everyone.
Kiss the family goodbye.
Buy the chanel handbag (you have to tear it out of my cold, dead hands)
Pray.......

That really is the checklist. Everything apart from that is either troublesome and unnecessary or a blessing (or a unnecessary blessing- we like those)


so morbid, kan?
That's what exams do to me. My momento mori. Aiseh.

Standards

No one can blame you if you've tried your best.

Tried your best means actually trying. Hard. Doing, working, sacrificing. This is not a hobby. It is your life, so for fuck's sake- fucking try. fucking work. Till you're raw and in pain. It's worth it. It will be beautiful.

Pretty killer

When i say exams are pretty killer, i don't mean like this.

Pretty Killer- Lili Margot.

***Now the party is over and i guess im over too

The music is going slower, i just can't take my eyes off you

Pretty killer, little crime, dances with another guy

Have no chance to kiss you later, i think i've lost too many times

And now im too drunk to be your lover, you're to sober to be mine

Pretty killer, little crime, dancing with another guy

There's no more 'come on Eileen', no more DJs to save my life

What could i do to frighten him?

I forgot to take my knife

Pretty killer, little crime, dancing with another guy

Pretty killer, kills me well, dances with all the men***

How to explain anything to anyone [a med student entry]

formerly titled: how to explain shit.

Introductions:

who the hell you are and what are you doing here
who they are, their age and what they for a living [you nosy bugger]
Why are they seeing you?

ICE,ICE BABY:

So, any Idea what's going on?
Any particular Concerns?
What are you Expecting? [not a cure i hope]

THE MEATY EXPLAINING BIT:

What the hell is it?
[a rash, nasty mucus everywhere, you going crazy]

What caused it?
[fungus, nasty genes, chemical imbalance]

How common is it?
[lots-people just dont talk about it, 1 in 4000 among white caucasians, a few people here or there]

What were the things that made you get it?
[infrequent baths, marrying cousins, too much weed]

What's the problem then (complications......)?
short term:[itchy-itchy everywhere, bad lungs+gut, killing your cat]
long term: [not ever getting laid, dying young, killing yourself]

How to fix it?
[a cream, the MDT*, lotsa meds and a hospital stay]

What and who's gonna be involved?
*the MDT - like the best answer ever- the multidiscliplinary team can handle anything and everything.

QUS, QUS TO FINISH:

Any Questions?
Do you actually Understand the words that are coming outta my mouth? Don't forget the ever important information leaflet
Summarise- just quickly cover what is it and how to fix it. Reassure, empathize, show love.

Now get outta there quick!

Zee Avi - Kantoi

The chomel-est "you bastard" song.

Cute! cute!

"no wonderlah my friends pun tak suka you..."

It's like a sign

The exams were traumatic. Somehow this year i went in with less fear and worry, not bacause i felt i was prepared or knowledgeable; but i think i have truly lost hope.

The eternal optimist has given up.

I want to be a good person, but i just know i can't. I used to hope i could, but now that i know i am not capable. Not that im not capable of being a mediocrely good person, i just wont be the great person i wanted to.

Last night was terrible. I was so upset while trying to cram neurology and bursting into spasms of tears between questions. I was talking to myself, talking to God, getting angry, sad and tired. I didnt sleep too well but i didnt think it affected the exam much, except i was yawning halfway through.

I went food shopping today. My fridge is was empty and i was living off chocolate biscuits and non-coffee caffeine drinks- since my chat with Rana about her mother's insistence that meat is good for you i went out and bought lots of meat.

Talk about circumstantiality.

The sign is i found a banana yoshimoto at the local charity shop. It's called N.P. There's a lot in there about suicide and the melancholy in living but also love, friendship and family. Unlike Kitchen or Hardboiled/Hardluck this is just one story.

A few people top themselves in the story. I dont think i will, yet. The problem if i do top myself now is that i'll leave a horrible mess behind that someone has to clean up. It's great cos if im dead there's no mess to handle, but i dislike the idea of making trouble for other people.

I've established that my melancholy, that chronic low grade depression on top of my baseline paranoid, narcissistic, dependent-avoidant personality disorder is the root of my problems. Because all my issues are internal, whatever happens im gonna be sad always.

Anyway, im sleepy and tired and will start revising for practicals now. My baselines are stable. Im serene in my misery because i know i have no power to change it.

It's almost midnight and i'm losing it.

If i knew that i wasn't gonna rot in hell for eternity i'd be happy to die.

It's too late but it's too early

It's too late for regretting time wasted, wrong answers and sheer stupidity.

It's too late to work hard and get this right.

It's too early to give up, too early to call this a day.

Until We Bleed (featuring Lykke Li) - Mikael's cello version

swedish love!

gotta say, i like the 'alternative' versions better.

eeek, must revise, almost 10 already!

Where does time go?
To youtube, long baths and good songs.

jangan berdalih, ulang kaji sementara sempat

What's malay for 'knocked up'? Is it terlanjur? What a word, it even sounds wrong. I find malay so much more colorful and expressive, though a little disgusting when discussing certain things.



Lovely song- sweet yet a little twisted, just how i like it. Sexy as hell.

The Voicemail

I wake up to my phone alarm- oh, a missed call. Check voicemail.

A seductive, husky male voice says hi; then introduces himself.

What, who.....huh....sleep addled brain, engage.

Right......my mate's new boy. Wait, this makes no sense.

Think:
Nope.
All neurons are engaged with medical knowledge and 2 songs: King's Of Leon's Knocked Up (the Lykke Li version) and Lykke Li's Tonight.

No neurons left for this mystery. After exams, after exams.

I have nothing to contribute

I exist only for myself. This exists only for myself.

It is my catharsis, but i think i have let it all out.

I have nothing new, original or novel to contribute. To this blog or to anyone, anything else.

Im like a cassette, overplayed, wearing thin. Flip once, flip twice, fast-forward, ooops, rewind.

Now, all the brown tape has been pulled out, extruded. Loops brown stringy stuff that breaks with a snap when you pull too hard. Break that plastic case. Stamp on it.

Lykke Li - Tonight - Live acoustic take

I'll let this cocoon me to sleep

Delicate, tender, almost too much to take.

Both versions are pretty, but this one is particularly touching, heartbreaking

I like her voice- it's a twee little girl voice, a bit like the "surf detergent" song as well.

pass me the codeine, there never is an accidental overdose, is there?

The analgesia queen has lost her magic box of meds.

Where, where?!

found them.

yeah, no such thing as an 'accidental' OD. Not now anyway. I wonder, how does acetylcysteine taste like?

Check out the skull guitar!

french and twee!

band: Yodelice

Song: Sunday with a flu (clip officiel)

I wonder what you call this style of dressing- depression era street performer/ vagabond chic? Love it!

Kanye West - The New Workout Plan Long Version (Explicit)

Thinspiration from Kanye

Work out mantra (double time!):

That's right, put in work (Woo!)
Move your ass, go berserk (Ow!
Eat your salad, no dessert (Ugh!)
Get that man you deserve

Tarkio - My Mother Was a Chinese Trapeze Artist

Some reason, this is the song of the moment. I prefer the more polished Decemberist version, more mellow, less electric guitar action.

It's all about the story.

My mother was a Chinese trapeze artist
In pre-war Paris
Smuggling bombs for the underground.
And she met my father
At a fete in Aix-en-Provence.
He was disguised as a Russian cadet
in the employ of the Axis.
And there in the half-light
Of the provincial midnight
To a lone concertina
They drank in cantinas
And toasted to Edith Piaf
And the fall of the Reich.

My sister was born in a hovel in Burgundy
And left for the cattle
But later was found by a communist
Who'd deserted his ranks
To follow his dream
To start up a punk rock band in South Carolina.
I get letters sometimes.
They bought a plantation
She weeds the tobacco
He offends the nation
And they write, "Don't be a stranger, y'hear?
Sincerely, your sister."

So my parents had me
To the disgust of the prostitutes
On a bed in a brothel.
Surprisingly raised with tender care
'Til the money got tight
And they bet me away
To a blind brigadier in a game
Of high stakes canasta.
But he made me a sailor
On his brigadier ship fleet.
I know every yardarm
From main mast to jib sheet.
But sometimes I long to be landlocked
And to work in a bakery.

It's a great story isn't it? The bit i love the most is the part the bit about the communist who raised his sister and how he left cos he wanted to start a punk rock band in South Carolina. It's very sad, the fact that she was abandoned for cattle, but then, it reminded me of the stories i'd here about the old times where people just couldn't afford to raise kids. They had to give them to wealthier neighbours, families or friends so they could have a decent life- love was letting go, perhaps not in a field of cattle to be raised growing tobacco with a punk rock communist but knowing when all you can do is just not enough.

Still, betting a kid on a game on high stake canasta is something i wouldn't do. The saddest bit of the song has gotta be the last two lines- don't we all wish for a simpler, radically different life? Hmmm......i complain it's so hard, but i want it life to be different, challenging, adventurous so i have stories to tell them at bedtime.

Im off to Bedfordshire now. Lotsa work and Kendo for tomorrow. You'all stay in touch now, i really miss you guys you know. Wish me luck and proxy-hug someone. I'll feel the love-vibes even if im hiding in our holy library. Or beating someone with a stick, with a grill covering my face (kendo armour)

bisous

It started so well

In the morning i had the most vivid dream of Ryan Reynolds snuggled against me in bed, telling me to wake up and get to my psych lecture. Why Ryan Reynolds? Not sure, maybe it's his character in 2 guys, a girl and a pizza place that got me hooked- if there was a perfect man, he'd probably be it.

(God, if there is a perfect man for me, let him look a like Ryan Reynolds (the man looks soooo good with scruff) and have a sweet irreverent sense of humour as well. He should also be utterly obsessed with me. Thanks. Amin.)

But guys like that would NOT go for obese, unhappy stupid girls who read Conan comics instead of neurology all afternoon.

In my stressed state i today i wolfed down 3000 calories. Mostly in the form of Kinder Bueno and some bread with sweet onion chutney. While alternating between Conan and Neurology. I called it quits after a 4 hour attempt and now im home, thinking i just want it be dark and cool- all this light and heat is doing my head in.

On my way home, cycling in my emotionally and mentally fragile state without a helmet i almost get hit by a bus and then got water ballooned. It hit the bike, splashing my legs mostly and a few drops on my t-shirt.

Today's t-shirt is the threadless one with a reflective bike on it. I didnt look in the mirror this morning and later realized that the bicycle wheels circle my boobs, exactly. Funny threadless, very funny.

Im skipping the gym today- a stress treat. Im taking a honey bath and see if can drown myself. To be fair im more of a poisoning kinda girl.

Now im off to sleep. at 8.45 pm. A week before exams. Maybe death is sweet escape.

Last night

( Guarana + big strong coffee ) x 70 minute workout = jittery + lack of focus = sleepy time = no studying = Panic!

English Summer

I understand it's hot. But really guys, why do all of you need to take your tops off? It's terribly distracting and i've been caught staring more than once. I know you all want a tan- but how many of you wear sunscreen?

Ok, health promotion bit over. Now stop distracting me and put some clothes on. Talking about distractions- i was innocently watching TV, a show called "embarrassing bodies"- you know, all about health issues that people tend to not see their doctors about. Well today they had a whole rugby team strip off; willies swing away, pale bums on show, jumping into the communal showers. Then they had all these guys take their towels off and examine their balls.

Im there, on my sofa with my plate of mash potatoes going, "what?!" All in the name of education, eh? Im not getting excited, merely surprised at the stuff their allowing on TV at 9 o'clock at night.

Anyway, this girls gotta work so i can enjoy my english summer.

Must be strong. must be strong.

progress testing

1. Im still not finished with psych.

2. I have just bought tickets for Paris-London. Im staying 11 days in France. What the hell is my ugly broke-ass gonna do for 11 days? Sun tan?

3. Im there with KY. He says 4 stars. We are EuroStar-ing it back to Londres.

4. I forgotten all my paedeatrics.

5. The test today- felt like i should know it all, but i didnt.

Psychiatric definitions for covert use in everyday life

1. Logorrhoea- the sciency version of 'verbal diarrhea'. When there is increased quantity but not rate of speech

2. Cryptolalia- making up idioms that no one else knows the meaning of. Use of an entire private idiom.

3. Circumstantiality- eliza's style of story telling. Goal-orientated and organised, but crramped with too much detail.

4. Pseudologica fantastica- my favorite, it means fluent and plausible lying.

5. Paragrammatism- plain old bad grammar speaking.

Milan male fashion week

Male fashion week = man candy!

man candy....man candy.......MAN CANDY........yum!

here
and here

The difference between true love and chronic osteomyelitis?

Chronic osteomyelitis actually lasts forever

That should be T-shirt slogan. A very orthopaedic one.

I think it's time i lived by some minimum standards

fat is bad

I got a letter from my (future) insurance company.

"In view of your height weight ratio it is necessary to impose an extra premium on your application"

merde.

im only a very dense size 16, ok 18 cos i've been binge eating with the essay stress.

putain.

they also need to know if i've seen my doctor since i applied for the policy- i hate to admit i have, it's the dodgy knee!

Insurance is depressing and expensive. Worse- i have to pay double the usual premium because im a fat fuck. The shame, the horror. Im both embarrassed and indignant.

Dylan Moran - Potential (Monster)

Oh......Ka-chan, you are wundervoll!

This is exactly it- the man's a genius. And funny to boot.

You need to watch it, if you watch one thing from my blog, watch this. Then we can all become a community of apathetic, potential-full people.

Ooh La La - The Faces Lyrics

Burned time and watched rushmore. I may have wasted prime study time, but the movie is sweet.

Kinda makes me want to be brave, dare to make mistakes and if it does happen, be ok with losing everything and starting over again. (that last bit was from the Lush philosophy- even soap companies have philosophies nowadays)

Though, it does make me feel a little suicidal. At the moment even tea could make me suicidal.

Oh well, if only i knew then what i knew now.

neopolitan dreams by lisa mitchell

Kawaii....

Some days, i wish i had just killed myself when i was 15 and spared myself all the misery.

Later, in the night, alone....

I wonder why this song makes me feel regretful. Not very suicidal, just a little sad that im still alive. Funny for a song from a detergent advertisement. Maybe if i had known then that i would be this way now i would have been a little more decisive in my actions. Sometimes i feel like im being kept alive rather than living.

Pop-culture wisdom

The difference with a mid-life crisis is that you have money. I have crises of similar proportions and all it means is that sometimes I buy a burrito.

from america in short

And we dont really want to realize our full potential- what if it's bollocks? If we never tried, then there's always that chance, hope that you could be amazing.

from Ka-chan.

Snow patrol's one of those bands who arent lookers, but a great listen. They've polished up, looks-wise for the new album, but it's no justin timberlake.



Listening to Snow patrol invokes my deeply ingrained, much suppressed need to love and be loved. It make me want to get a soulmate or a cat. It puts longing and sweet misery to music- just right for my current cuddle-less, stressful and hope-less days.

I try and be angry, thinking it'll make the need go away. I forget about it, too busy to realize something's missing, but then i have snow patrol to remind me. I don't get mad at them, it's not their fault im like this; im rather thankful for the reminder- forgetting is a terrible thing.

i knew i shouldnt

but i did anyway.

I watched Kamikaze Girls- i'm a simple girl with simple tastes after all.



Only a charming story of a ama-lolita who befriends a yanki- in a little japanese town. It's frivilous, it's cute and it has a happy ending.

Just what i need now, a happy ending.

On a whim

If i had a whim to indulge now it would be to study japanese and french cinema- a reason to justify watching lots of films in languages that fascinate me, just by their sound.

It is not a big deal

Pas grand chose- i guessed the meaning before i babel-ed fished it, really.

By Monsieur Beautiful Bread, oh how i wish for beautiful bread. Some warm brioche with butter and rich strawberry jam- sweet with a hint of sourness. All fluffy butterness- i can't think of brioche without smelling it; the sweet, warming smell.

The smell of sunshine and warmth. The sound of french being spoken. Alas Monsieur Beaupain, i have no idea of what you are saying in that typical male french singing voice. I say typical, typical i mean like Gainsbourg- more like speaking lyrically, beautifully in time with music. The choice for our now overplayed Mr. Beautiful Bread is a backing of pure piano, an instrument, till today seems so insurmountably difficult that i am in awe and terribly jealous of anyone who plays well. Any musical instrument really, because i am so inept in melody and ear, i cannot even harness my voice.

Oh truly, do i love bread. Mind you, germanic black bread doesn't set my heart a-flutter as pillow-soft potato bread nor does flour-less, sprouted seed bread that my mother used to buy us in a phased of lapsed tastebuds and health-food frenzy. We never got brioche at home, but if i ever have children i will be a baker and own a grand oven when they are mere playschoolers so they can watch with fascination as the wings of skewered chickens pop open as it goes round and round on the spit and smell the aroma of fresh baked bread, watching it rise as they play in the oven-warmed kitchen.

I miss home. The home that my parents semi-built with it's infinitely lofty ceiling in the living room that was impossible to cool. Where we had a massive oven and a corner of the kitchen that always smelt of rabbit food, even though we never own rabbits. The kitchen where i first baked cupcakes, the mix from a box with overly sweet pink icing and a Beano wafer on the top. The room that was all mine, with it's double bed that i rarely slept it, because i preferred sleeping in the tent pitched in my parent's massive room. The times when we had dinner on the porch, watching the fishes, trying to figure out which fish was eating which. The first floor balcony that was never finished because we left before it could be done. During a full moon the back garden was beautiful, especially during blackouts- he always took us on long drives then so we could cool off in the car and fall asleep to the radio. Would Air Supply still lull me to sleep?

No sleep tonight- i manage to finish a whole historical novel on dracula; the ending slightly disappointing and the story a little long, but i enjoyed it anyway. It is a long novel, about one and three quarters of an inch thick. The essay is far from done and not academic at all. I am fearful, for my adviser would not reply my emails.

Keep me company a little while more Monsieur Beaupain, while i wrack my brains and the internet for ethical and moral treatise for and against killing babies.