Any excuse for a holiday: Happy National Kissing Day!

Define

It started a couple of months ago as social experiment. Only the select who will not judge me harshly (or could be relied on to identify my body at the morgue) were told. In hushed whispers and with promises to take it to the grave.

''Two can keep a secret if one of them is dead...''

It's worked out better than expected. Objectives were achieved and i made it out alive. And now I'm here not knowing what this is or what to do. Ok, maybe saying I made it out alive is a little premature. But let's say at this juncture I'm pretty sure I wont be killed in my sleep or left for dead on the side of a highway.

Talking about highways- I passed my UK driving test!

Im a pretty decent judge of character i guess (or lucky, like my granny used to say, 'someone's praying for you honey'. I think it was her). My friends are happy that i have another place to crash in town and i like that he likes cuddles on rainy days too.  I have a toothbrush and contact lens case and solution there and the coffee in the cupboard's for me (he drinks tea). We've survived 36 hours of each others company. I'm an ex-city girl living in a village and he lives in the big city but hails from a little town somewhere green, beautiful and far far away.

He's taken me to a coffee festival and I bought him socks and pair of cheeky pants for his birthday. I refuse to meet his housemates though we've borrowed the dog for a walk on the common. He will not call and takes forever to reply texts.

Hmmmppffffttt.

Im treading carefully and minding my tongue. There's no real need to define something as long as we're having fun, right? I won't do anything silly. I promise.

What's changed?

Everything and nothing.

24 hours and everything has changed. It is different although it all still appears much the same.

Man who makes pancakes

If you know me, you know i like love pancakes.

Love them in all their forms. Savoury crepes, sweet heavy fluffy pancakes, even lempeng pisang yo. And im a romantic. Remember that 90s film Practical Magic? Where the Sandra Bullock character conjures a spell for the perfect man? And one of the things she asked for was a man who can flip pancakes?

Pancake-making skills is on my perfect man list.

So i found me a man who makes pancakes. For me, for breakfast. Ok, it was noon; but who needs to wake up early when lying in is so much more fun? And apologises for lack of a breakfast tray. 

Too bad he cant make me breakfast everyday. 

MMR

SO many things have happened.

Where do I start.....

I am committing career suicide. Is it deliberate or is this some self-actualizing secret suppressed desire to escape medicine? (what else can I do that'll set me up this comfortably? I have no other skill set to speak of)

My procrastination has reached epic proportions. Hypnotherapy and neural-linguistic programming is the next step i think. I never learn....

I decided to make an effort for someone, someone im not too sure about. It's alien to let myself be so vulnerable. He isn't perfect and he's far from the one; he's giving me a chance, so im gonna give this guy a shot.

Im learning to see my own beauty. Sure i scrub myself raw, rub all manner of unguents and spend loads of the right clothes; but i may just becoming that beautiful butterfly i never thought i'd become. Just a few more kilos darling.

Someone I know attempted suicide. I'd wouldn't have guessed they had the guts or the strength of character for a serious attempt.

The real reason for writing this entry: the MMR jab on left arm hurts like a bitch; and i have pins and needles radiating down my arm and up my neck. If i die before i wake i love you mom and dad; im sorry you had to clean up this mess.

To my brother; run away, fly free. Do it all now. Listen to what people tell you, see their point of view and then do what you think is right. Fall, get up, learn. Scars are stories. And remember; they'll love you no matter what and you are a good person.

I know i'll wake up tomorrow still in this mess.
Maybe with a dead arm.

When i was young I would sing along, suffering as only a lonely isolated teenager can.

Not much has changed.

I am an awkward, lonely adult.

And im still in the ranks of the freaks who suspect they can never love anyone.

After my blood is drowning in alcohol

I bought a new toy today- it's a tablet that not an iPad. I feel a little stupid for not buying iPad but at least I'm saving a few quid and can still work In bed.

See, the laptop's been broken. The battery is. The rest of it still works well (ish)

It's absolutely frfreezing and the radiators in the front room don't want to work so I'm tucked up in bed with an aching knee and the new tablet. It works.

Happy days. Cold nights.
Slushy snowy bike rides to my cold empty flat.

Give me love.

Bills

There is nothing romantic about bills.

I thought there was going to be. But no- even i couldnt make bills romantic. I now have bills; electricity, water, sewage. Sewage! I forget all the shit flows somewhere and eventually someone has to deal with it- and i pay for the luxury. 

I managed to get to 27 before having to pay bills- i think i did pretty well considering i started paying taxes at 18.

Taxes are never sexy, or romantic. It is necessary and evil.

Fresh fresh starts

Start anew.

New town, new job, new place.
New people I have never met.

How exciting, how intense.

Only a little scared.

I start at a new hospital tomorrow-0745. Tomorrow i will be a morning person. Tomorrow the new shiny amazing me will be manifest.

Tomorrow afternoon I'll get the new flat. It will be a home, all my own (as much as a rented flat could be).Think of Feist's Mushaboom- that's the kinda homey im thinking of.

It's been awhile.

There has been a lot that happened over the last few weeks- nothing huge; no big disasters or major triumphs.

Im starting to think that maybe life is about the little things that slowly, imperceptibly change you and before you know it  you are in a new frame of mind. It's the sea waves that shape cliffs and wears stones smooth.

I've come to accept that I am a late bloomer in a fast paced world. Things come to me in their own time. While other speed along I amble at my own pace, but I do get there eventually. I do things my own way, there some method in the madness.

I've changed jobs again and with that come the inevitable questioning of my abilities, feeling lost and inadequate. Heck, I feel plain stupid most days. It's been 10 days. Everyone tell me I'll be ok. I believe them, but I won't change the way I feel. 

On a lighter note I make an excellent ratatoiulle- a bit too spicy to be authentic, missing aubergines and with my secret ingredient of butternut squash to give some ooomph (and much craved carbohydrates). And i found out adding saffron to beef chilli adds amazing colour and luxe to the dish. I've stopped eating dinner because I pass out in bed when I come home from work. The gym has not seen me for the last 2 weeks. Things will get back to some semblance of normality in few weeks, once I settle down and get past the initial stress and worry.

Im scared

I've made some bad decisions at work that had terrible outcomes.
Now I've lost confidence, i've lost any faith I have in my abilities.....and i can't compartmentalise or rationalise this.

I just see myself as a sum of all my failures.

Sometimes I wish I can disappear, but im scared even of that. A minor cycle accident recently reminds me I still fear death. Talk about being between a rock and a hard place- hidup takut, mati tak mahu.

Sometimes i google pity parties and wallow in miserableness.

It can be fun and enlightening.....I found this; can't wait to use it in real life:

"No-one is worthless though... Not so long as they can exist, and therefore think about themselves, since it is inevitable that they will ever remain the centre of existence to themselves, and the centre of the universe cannot be worthless."

sexy, crazy and i totally cannot relate.

I know it's baaaad, bad, bad.
But to have that feeling after a punishing run; that high, the feeling like everything's ok, that i'm great and good and just right- at any time, just a little sniff, a little rub.
Is happiness just good brain chemistry?



and for grown-ups:

little silver hoops

If you've seen me in the last year you'll notice that I wear 3 silver hoops at the middle part of my right helix (ear).

I was told to take them at work last year, but I paid the the hospital policy control freaks no heed. I kept the hoops on. Some people noticed, very few asked about them. Im pretty proud of them- i did all the piercings myself, with a variety of sharp implements. I would recommend some alcohol wipes and a sterile 20 gauge cannula if you can get your hands on one. 18 gauge if you are brave and know you like a little pain. Try to aim true- re-piercing because the placement is not to your liking isnt the most pleasant thing to do. The rush is the same homemade or professional- the sharp prick, a tug and pull and then the flood of warmth as the endorphins flood my brain.

I use to alternate between studs and hoops but the silver hoops have stayed in for more than a year. They tend to fit in with most of the things i wear and other jewellery.

I've taken the hoops out as I have an interview on Wednesday. They're sitting in a bath of chlorhexadine (i.e. mouthwash). I'm aware of the fact they're not there, but I don't feel bereft. Just mildly different. I going to try and get some gold hoops to alternate between the two metals. I suspect gold is more of my metal (going ghetto yo) and also it matches my 'Eliza' name necklace (with its phat chain- thanks grandma).

Wish me luck for Wednesday- say a little prayer for me.

Anywhere on this road

I think im too young, but fatigue settles heavy on my heart.
I tell them i am well unwell, but it is my soul that aches; it is fear that pales my face and weakens my steps.

I cannot remember why or how i learnt of Lhasa (the singer, not the place) but today i had the urge to find this song.

She died at 37 of breast cancer. That's too young too.



I live in this country now
I’m called by this name
I speak this language
It’s not quite the same
For no other reason
Than this it’s my home
And the places i used to be
far from are gone


You’ve travelled this long
You just have to go on
Don’t even look back to see
How far you’ve come
Though your body is bending
Under the load
There is nowhere to stop
Anywhere on this road

Ready to start

Learning to love.

I find that i do that a lot. Stuff will sit on my computer for ages........and it will randomly come up. And *boom* it's just gets me. It's epic, it's love.....and hell, it's been there all along.

I don't listen, i suppose, when people tell me of the awesomeness. I'll make my own decisions.....it's not really my cup of tea, errr, it's moyen.....

Then *lightning strike*



If I was scared, I would
And if I was pure, you know I would
And if I was yours, but I'm not

Now I'm ready to start
I would rather be wrong
Than live in the shadows of your song
My mind is open wide
And now I'm ready to start
Your mind surely opened the door
To step out into the dark
Now I'm ready

it was 0330 and cold

short stripey blue dress, pink plastic coat and a burnt sienna scarf.
pink helmet, fluroscent yellow Shell safety vest

This was what i wore when i realized that i had run out of blessings.

I made one phone call. No one picked up. I sniffed and refused to cry.

I took off my gloves and fixed the my bike. I pulled and pushed, feeling sorry for myself. I talked to God for a bit, laughed a little at the cruel irony of it all.

Realized that i needed to stop bending over backwards, sacrificing my personal happiness for work- in some deluded belief that this would make up for me being a bad doctor. Firstly im not a bad doctor- I am merely mediocre. I dont need to compensate for anything. I work hard dammit. Real hard.

Gotta work smart honey. Brains not brawn.

I have this exam, next tuesday. And THE interview for THE job a week later.

Im freaking out.

from http://fuckyeahtoomey.tumblr.com

absurd fears

The fear that i am not good enough.

The fear that it will never happen.

The fear that i will amount to nothing.

The fear that i will disappoint.

The fear that i will not get better.



And I find it kind of funny, I find it kind of sad
The dreams in which I'm dying are the best I've ever had
I find it hard to tell you, I find it hard to take