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.