Denial and Escapism

Im in denial. I have all these things to do, and yet, i manage to blot it all out. Im in denial of my fatness, my ignorance and stupidity. I say it, but deep down, i dont mean it. Im in denial. I still have in my head that i am the Queen of the world, when in fact, i have long fallen from my throne, fallen from grace. It's a slippery slope from there as i slip lower each time.

Escapism will be my downfall. I refuse to study or check emails- im trying to shirk all responsibility.....for what? To stay in bed and dream. In my own world where i make stories from music and everything including me, is beautiful. I blame the Stars for my current state of mind- they sing such descriptive songs that it puts the movie maker in my head into overdrive.

My head is heavy and im really hungry all the time: it's the weed. I woke up in someone else's bed this morning- i opened my eyes to realize i didn't know where i was, and it took me about 30 long seconds to recall what happened last night. Nothing too exciting- i was stoned and in my little bubble, thinking deeply about things i shouldn't be thinking about. The guys were coming up with profound thoughts and epiphanies- but i was beyond listening. This depressive state is bad for me. It's affecting my motivation and memory. Both are going, and so is my skin- it's a barometer of my mood: bad skin means bad mood; sorta.

There's this exam next week, and i am not at all prepared. I fear for my future. This apathy doesn't suit the study of medicine.

This is my quarter-life crisis.

Cravings

It's becoming a habit- enough that i miss it. My dessert ciggarette.

I need to take a break- im puffed out cycling down to classes.

Feeling guilty

It's late and i'm feeling waves of guilt.
It feels like i've done something wrong.

It's the class-skipping and sleeping in lectures that's getting to me.

I feel bad that while people work hard to teach me, i go to sleep or worse, rather do nothing in my room.
In addition, i have the nerve to be stupid.

Here's the new Püre Program:

4 hours of püre work
2 hours of püre gym
6 hours of püre sleep

and still 12 hours to spare.

*heart* new music!

They're called Stars and they're Canadian.
They make the soundtrack for good days, odd moments and bad patches.

You gotta trawl through my youtube playlist to hear 'em, but dont miss out on the Pierces or that one Kerli song i'm currently obsessed with. Hear

~Nothing but time and a face that you'll lose
I chose to feel it and you couldn't choose
I'll write you a postcard, I'll send you the news
From the house down the road from real love~

What had Barack Obama done for you today?

Click here to find out

But then, i had a great weekend......

"When there's nothing else to burn, you've got to set yourself on fire"
Opening line from the video for the Stars's song Your Ex-Lover is Dead.

I awoke late Saturday- had a satisfying breakfast and was looking forward to rowing, but it was sadly cancelled due to gale force winds (that made ridiculous waves at the docks). I say sadly, but there's always this twinge of happiness when rowing is cancelled. I hung around in bed and managed a little time at the gym. Had rice and Nando's at Clark Street (my second home and my other bed) before we left for a night out in Camden Town.

As usual i had forgotten my cigarettes, but we sat outside in the beer garden, nursing beers and conversation. It was nice to finally had a Camden night out- it was long planned! After a walk up and down Camden high st later we decided to enter the Electric Ballroom- music was surprisingly cheesy, but we had a great time dancing the night away! Painful feet and a couple of hours later i hobbled home in a daze (the heady combination of alcohol and pain). Crashed in bed, make-up and all.

Woke up at 10, by a text from my friend asking where i was. Shit! I was suppose to meet her at 10 for breakfast at Columbia Rd Flower Market. I jumped out outta bed, brushed my teeth, put on a fresh t-shirt and sped down to the station still in yesterday's jeans. My bike had a flat back tyre and non-functioning brakes- that was an adventure down Cambridge Heath Rd. Ended up not being too late- she had trouble ousting her flatmate from the shower, so she arrived a little late too.

I've not seen her in years, so we had a lot to catch up on. The market itself was pretty- lots of yummy food to be had, but a bit crowded. After she left to meet some other friends i went on to hunt down a bike shop to get my brakes (and that flat) fixed. It took me about an hour- my shoes (another pair) was giving my blisters on both feet. Stopped by for bagels and crashed in bed when i got home (in pain and from lack of sleep). Woke up to chew on bagels while still nestled underneath the covers.

Got a call- some friends had an extra ticket to a performance of A Midsummer's Dream. Threw on another clean T-shirt and a warm scarf (still wearing yesterday's jeans though) and headed out. It was an amazing show. It was a midsummer's dream set in an office block, where the first scene was performed in a cafe with the actors mingled among the audience. It was darker but just as funny as ever. A midsummer's night dream is the only Shakespear play i've read properly and to finally see it being performed was great. I loved it- the actors were all around us, brushing against my knee, staring at our faces. It was great acting, great use of the space and lighting. I loved it!! After the show the friends and i had Milo in my kitchen and had biscuit and stroop waffle fueled conversation till 2.30 in the morning.

All in all a great weekend- im exhausted. Those jeans need a break. I've been wearing them since friday. Love 'em.

Epiphany

Say no platitudes dear friends, haters and random readers.

Just let me whinge. For this is pure, undiluted self hatred at its zenith.

Today was the day i was filmed taking a history from a patient and the day i lost all hope. I am FAT and UGLY.

FAT as in elephantine and whale-like. Obese, large; huge. Watching my bum as i walked in the room was painful. It was so huge, even i (with all my selective sight) could not blot it out. My thighs are massive. They look like huge tree trunks. Worst of all was my face- it's huge and fat. There's fat everywhere, and as i nodded you can see the fat move. It even dwarfed the hair. Fat jowls are the ugliest thing in the world- and i have them.

That brings us on to UGLY. Speak not of things like hair and clothes. But just the way im put together. There's no delicacy or beauty anywhere. Just rolls of fat, shaking this way and that as i speak. A large greasy nose, big lips and beady assymetrical eyes. And my voice- awful. I slur my words like my tongue is to big for my mouth. I sound like a retard. I move like one to- i make wierd head movements that is suppose to pass as nodding and dont know where to put my big fat legs when i sit down. And fat jowls. Those terrible fat jowls.

It's not the fat that's making me ugly though. It's just that im ugly AND fat. It's unfortunate, but it happens to some people. Ok, it beats being deaf and blind, but still, when you have intelligent, beautiful, skinny people around you kinda can't help hating fate and wondering why is life so unfair. Or how the world could allow such a monstrosity to survive past their 2nd birthday.

Im OK, really...i guess as OK as you can be if you're fat and ugly.

Ugly Girl

Guess how im feeling today?

Not that im unthankful but im feeling a bit dejected and low after last evening. I clean-up good, but i wish i could look fabulous, or at least decent when i wake up. And not need 24 hours to make sure my hair looks decent. I guess i gotta work on having deep insightful political opinions, smoking cigars and staying up late. Oh, and being nice. Or at least lose some weight.

Watch it- the song is nice and the video is hilarious!

Lightning strikes and bolts of thunder

He still makes my heart leap and my legs turn into jelly.
I get excited by the prospect of seeing him (even from afar).
I never have anything decent, interesting or witty to say
I just grin, wide-eyed in the presence of my personal Greek God (or Aryan Prince, which ever you fancy).
Corny i know, but forgive me, lightning doesn't strike often
And thuder bolts never pealed so hard
Even if im setting myself for misery
I let me
Because i love this feeling
Of hoping, wishing, wanting, dreaming
A reason to do my hair
Something to look forward to
Anticipating
If he'll look my way (no he didn't)
Will he talk to me (yes he did, but the conversation was bland)
I know it amounts to nothing
He could never love one such as me
But at least he knows i exist
I had a reason to try and look pretty
And now it's over and done.

The Imperial College Malaysian night didn't impress. Plagued by technical problems, hackneyed scriptwriting and lacklustre dancing it was slightly less than what i expected. He only had a minor part in the end- if it's possible he's got an even more Greek God-like physique now. No, im not obsessed. Yes, that's right, im not in love, and yup, i did get over him. Still am, it's just everytime i see him i realize how beautiful he is. BUT, i did realize something: he isn't as tall as i imagined him to be. See, i'm making progress. At least now i can see minor flaws.

Later update (hindsight's 20/20):
What would his reaction be if found out that i was utterly smitten with him? Would he freak out at the (even i would admit) scary level of adoration i show? Would he be flattered? Well, he should be. Flattered, not scared..........No one has anything to fear from me- im really a fluffy bunny in a (fat) scary suit. I keep on telling everyone this, but for some reason they all think im gonna jump (ref: urban dictionary, definition 5 and 6) them. Especially my damn housemate. He's cute, but not that cute.

My mom is the funniest person

Her reply to my email telling her about my idea of skipping class and heading down to Brighton today to cheer myself up (which i didnt do):

"U can go anywhere u want to, but do not miss class. Where do u get that silly idea."

I love her to bits. She's hilarious.

New piercing

Just a simple homemade one- no. 4 on right ear lobe.

Birthday's today

My attempt at the Red Velvet cake has turned brown and bitter.

But, my Floyer friends saved the day by bringing a tiramisu over and tonnes of friends to sing a song, remind me im old and make me laugh. Which i sorely needed (the laughter, not the reminding me im old).

My cookies turned out better, though a tray was destroyed through carelessness. Though it got ate up anyway.

Thanks for the little delights.

As for being 23, im apathetic.

Let's run away

Will you come with me?
Let's run away
To Brighton for a day

We'll eat fish and chips
And ride the bumper cars

Sit on the beach and drink tea
Watch the birds swoop by
Have ice-cream and buy fudge

I need to see the sea
And feel cold water lap at my feet
To remind me that i'm warm inside.

I want to smile
And not worry for awhile
Feel beautiful for a moment
Dancing by the sea

Take pictures of old biddies
Walk along the shopping streets
See my daddy's uni

But there's no one
to hold my hand
if i stumble on the stony beach

The lone wolf routine
Don't fit so well
However hard i try
to force a smile

I shouldn't ask for too much
But it gets to me sometimes

I'll sit and talk to Neptune
A one-sided conversation
The fat girl and the sea

My heart

All is full of love, so says Bjork. I guess i can say that it's full of love. Capricious as well - liking, hating, loving and breaking easily for no good reason. It never learns from past mistakes. It keeps on doing the same thing- one moment giddy with excitement and the next i'll be lying there staring into space, listening to sad songs as it crumbles like good shortbread. Good thing it's a resilient little thing. It might not keep up with the rowing team or quite get to 140 bpm when im running flat out, but it'll put itself together even after being mashed by the most heartless of people. They never realize they're making it sad and crumbly because i dont let them. My shortbread heart is my secret, crumbling quietly in the dark, alone.

I'll bounce back, because i always do; and I'll make a new shortbread heart from the crumbs.

~ Troubles - Sol and his sun-shiny friends -Stare at my blood-orange eyes - Asclepius and medic teddy - Singleton muffins~

Song of the Week: Sideways by Let's Go Sailing

The videos are kinda random, but people do cool stuff on youtube. This one is from the movie Léon (1994)- looks interesting, definately on rental list.

The morning after

I love waking up late on a Saturday, this morning to the sounds of Aqualung. Post-stoned mornings are the best. I feel ready to take on the world! All i need is a shower and to brush my teeth. It's two in the aftenoon, but im not in a hurry.

The oversized bathroom next door still has the lingering smell of last night. Memories of sitting on the floor- out of it, but in a good way. I can still taste peanut butter and jelly sandwiches and the warmth from friends lying next to me.

Earth to Lizzy

I really need to go get some exercise. Im also making Kuah Kacang for dinner with friends later, so there- stuff to do. And there's a whole load of studying.

Fixing problems, bit by bit.

In the background: Matt Skiba's Demons Away

I'm waiting for the eclipse
reading about leukaemia
what a terrible disease.
A friend just saved my life
Perhaps he didnt realize.
All i needed was to know
there was someone out there
willing to hear me out.
In spite of me being
dull and boring.

Words to song


Update: It's too foggy and cloudy outside to properly see La Luna. I walked around the block looking for her, and just as i was gonna head in, i spotted her shadow behind a thin layer of clouds. Just half her face, in the middle of the eclipse. Oh well, at least i was out there. Not betting on clouds clearing so quickly, so i've headed in, staying warm. That cigarette really did me in- im coughing non-stop now.

Tune: Coldplay's Trouble

Just when i thought life is gonna be ok, it pulls a fast one on me. It's about money. Im always stressed out about money. What's happening is that i might not get the money i need to fund my summer. Darn.

Im getting depressed- about my weight, my looks, my level of medical knowledge....everything. And im getting stressed out because im worried about all the stuff that's getting me down. And no short term solutions for anything. Shite.

The are always little things to be happy about; like how Sol the Sunflower (and his sun-shiny friends) is sprouting and there's a full lunar eclipse tonight, but i shouldn't let this distract me from the main issues that are plaguing my life.

Major things that need fixing:

1. Medical Knowledge
2. Weight
3. Looks (specifically, hair and skin)
4. Money
5. Research stuff
6. Accomodation for next year
7. Rowing
8. The whole BSc thingie

So far, i can only think of 8.These are the things that i dont normally think about, till i lay down to sleep and then they jump out of nowhere. My brain does this self-protection thing of forgetting these horrid things when im busy, but when my mind clears......i start worrying. A lot.

God, please help.
P/S- im sorry about boozing up last weekend. And all the drugs. I know it's bad.

Time and distance

What happens when relationships end and friendships drift apart?

When a couple ceases to be a couple and friends don't communicate. No hatred, no spite, nothing wrong. Just time and distance doing it's thing.

I'm notorious for lack of communication. It's not that i dont love you or that i've forgotten you- it's just that i get caught up in the here and now. Truth be told i probably miss you a lot, it's just that i can't get organised enough to call or write and email. Or there's nothing to say except " i miss you and wish you were here.''

So, what happens when tragedy strikes? How to act? What to do?

To ignore the time apart and share the sorrow- to try and be a shoulder to cry on? How do you say sorry for not being there all this while? Feel sad, angry, worried? A glimmer of guilt perhaps?

I would forget time and distance. What was once shared can never be lost. You can't erase the past how hard you try- and what was once there is worth the initial awkwardness. People change, but not that much. It's a chance to start talking again, even if the circumstances are shitty.

To quote Mary Schmich (from that Baz Lurhman song 'wear sunscreen') "Understand that friends come and go, but with a precious few you should hold on. Work hard to bridge the gaps in geography and lifestyle, because the older you get, the more you need the people who knew you when you were young. "

the lows after the highs are awful.

i still feel like a stranger

she's as beautiful as ever

and happy

for her sake

i hope she never knows how it feels to be me

lonely

Red Velvet

Cakes never made me cry, or get emotionally involved; but today, one cake did.

It's three gorgeous red layers of cake, sandwiched and covered in white icing.

The icing is soft, yet stiff enough to hold its shape. It's sweet, but not sickeningly so and creamy- it just melts in my mouth with an aftertaste i want to remember forever.

The cake itself is a work of art- it's red, like the color of passion. The taste is impossible to describe- the cacophany of flavours: there's vanilla, chocolate and something i cant quite describe.........tastes a little like happiness and contentment. Like comfort and warmth. The texture is of crushed velvet, luxurious and rich.

Together it's Love.

I can't quite understand how a slice of cake can make me feel so happy and yet so sad at the same time. The cake itself was orgasmicly delicious; but it was what it made me feel that made it a miracle. It made me want to Love, to want Love and to not give up on Love. It felt like the universe is saying- Love's here, eat it, find it, cherish it............and yet, i felt so sad because i had all this Love, and no one to share it with.

I've got a cupcake version of the cake in my room now. Love in a paper casing. Love comes in all shapes and sizes, huh?

The Beatles-Dizzy Miss Lizzy

Anti-VD

No, im not talking about me. Though it could be.

This ANTI-VALENTINE website is just what i needed to battle the forces of flowers, pink and rampant consumerism that defines this awful day. Why cant people celebrate this poor Saint's day like all the other saints- quietly, with prayer and maybe making food for the poor?

But back to ANTI-VD.

Managed an all black outfit today- and the weather is grey and absolutely unromantic (i like how even nature agrees.......). I made singleton muffins as gifts to all my single friends.

My stand for ANTI-VD is that i choose to be depressed, lonely and angry and i refuse to join in on rampant consumerism, generic unsincere shows of love and affection and general soppy-ness. I have a right to be as dark and moody as i want and no one can impose pink/red lovey/fluffiness on me this day.

update:
i went out to dinner. On VD. When i got the invite, i thought my friend was taking the piss, saying he was gonna treat our cooking collective to dinner. But actually, he meant it. And so, we all went out for Japanese fusion- A former couple, a poor fella missing his other half, another singleton and me. I was still in all black, but i dressed up a little and during dessert caved in and stole a pink chrysanthemum from the table and wore it in my hair.

Two Timing Touch And Broken Bones - The Hives

This is the first of what is hopefully gonna be my 'song of the week' posts. Enjoy and jump around a bit.

22 hours and 12 minutes

To Valentine's Day.

And two of my friends' birthdays.

I wasnt even thinking about it. Postsecret had to have a V-day secrets collection. Damn you postsecret- I could do with forgetting this year.

I shall wear black on the evil day.

Anyone for a single's get together?
We can watch horror films and laugh at couples that die.

Gezellig

What happened there was totally unexpected

But definately gezellig.

Its a dutch term that generally means cosy, chilled out, the tolerant do-whatever-you-like-as-long-as-you-dont-bother-anyone-its-ok attitude.

Its pretty hard to define, just like the whole trip.

I love Amsterdam. It's clean, pretty and they still allow smoking indoors. Cyclist rule the streets (but look elegant doing it). People are friendly and they speak English. Its fairly inexpensive and did i mention- real pretty?

I had a terrible run in with ganja- i had underestimated the strength of the marijuana and taken too many deep drags off our shared joint (as no one else was keen to smoke it). Almost instantly i slumped forward, focusing all my strength to not fall off my bar stool. I close my eyes as i feel a tingle move up my legs and spread around my body. A bit later, my stomach spasmed and i ran to the toilet to throw up the entire content of my stomach. I kneeled in front of the toilet bowl and my stomach kept on spasming- i felt every contraction like a sickening wave moving from abdomen to throat. It hurt, i imagined i was going to die. Any movement i made cause my stomach to contract, and i would lose more of my dinner. Between thoughts of the cost of going to hospital in amsterdam and dying in a most awkward manner (in the toilet of an amsterdam coffeeshop) i was fascinated by my regurgigated dinner. Stoned and sick- i was properly fucked. I didnt realize it, but i was in there for more than an hour. My friends dragged me out as the place closed and i managed to walk half way to the hostel on my own before i started swaying. Another friend was freaking out as well, but i was sufficiently out of it to not give a fucking damn. We got back and i crashed in bed, awake but very very stoned. One of our girls got freaked out and started crying uncontrollably and had to be comforted for a while. I was cold, and one of the guys (who still had his wits about him) gave me his blankie to keep me warm.

I woke up feeling great, just smelling a little like piss and vomit. I was already in the shower when the guy from the hostel reception announced that they had a burst pipe and there wasnt gonna be any hot water. I couldnt care- i just wanted to be clean. After my refreshing shower and a hearty hostel breakkie i was ready to face sight-seeing and the stress that comes with travelling with 6 other people.

In the end the group split up- four of us going for a "free" tour which was 3 hours but worth it as it gave us a feel for the city, and all for a decent tip for our guide. Later we went to visit the Anne Frank Haus which wasn't as depressing as i expected it to be.

We had dinner and then toured the red light district. The girls stood in little rooms with 'display windows'- they stand, dance or just sit there, waiting for some guy to open the door, ask for a quote and go in. When that happens a red curtain gets pulled across the window and stuff gets done inside. The girls come in all shapes and colors- some are pretty attractive, some just plain scary. I wonder why they arent any boys around in display windows.......But the streets and alleys were full of men all checking out the women....A little creepy....

Later that evening we ended up on a pile of cushion at a corner of the bar, four of us cuddled together as we talked and laughed loudly about everything. We were under the influence of an entirely different substance (no, not alcohol) and we were tripping happily. Later I slept well, with some vivid imagery when i closed my eyes before falling asleep.

We overslept the next day. We rented bikes later and cycled about- through the park and round town. I had to carry a friend on the back of my bike- he wasnt too heavy, but still, it was tough to get moving cos the bike was a wee bit too high for me but once i got the hang of it I was speeding through the city like the demon cyclist I am. It was a little wierd in the beginning, carrying a guy on the back of the bike, but i'd rather cycle (i did try sitting on the back- we looked even wierder- little guy cycling like mad to carry a fat girl on the back). We visited the Van Gogh museum- they had the potato eaters and a version of the sunflowers.....It was a gallery that told some history as well, so it was nice to know a bit more about Vincent.

That last evening started off badly- we lost our corner in the bar to some other stoners. The rest of our group who missed out the day before joined us on our trip, but somehow it just wasn't right. We pissed off a poor lady who was trying to sleep in our dorm with our constant laughter. We left her to sleep in peace and headed out to the bar. Much later, we regained our little corner when some people left to sleep. We stayed there till 6 am- the guys had brought blankies and the bar staff put on some chill out music and dimmed the lights. The all just laid there- blissed out and loving the company. We only went to bed cos they needed to clean the area but managed to sleep only a few hours.

We woke up in time for breakfast, and cycled up into town to have the best chips in amsterdam. And by golly, were they good! The chips were cooked fresh, crispy and light......served with any sauce you'd like. They even had some of their own imaginative, yummy mixed sauces.....damn it's good. Later we returned the bikes and rented a canal bike- its one of those boats that you paddle along with your feet. It was a real thigh work-out: good thing we took turns, it was exhausting. After that we had pancakes.....and that caused us to be a little late and we had to rush to the train station to catch our train to the airport.

We had a friend buy tickets and ran to get on a train. That's when fate decide us fuck us over. Our train was delayed by 40 minutes. We missed one train on the opposite platform that left about 20 minutes after our train decided not to move because there was no annoucement, in Dutch or otherwise. We were left not knowing anything for 30 minutes and found out that the train we were on wasnt going anywhere. We had to run to another platform and jumped on another train. We were severely late and the moment we reached the airport we sent one of our guys with all our pasports to sprint to the check-in desk. He got there just in time. We ran after him, and the guy at the desk was going through all the motions. Just as he tries to print our boarding passes, the computer beeps and he says shit. He made a phone call that made me cry, curse a woman with a most painful death, and wished that a plane crashed. The bitch on the other line wouldnt let us on the plane. Even though we took so long to check in cos the guy at the desk was taking his time writing our details down. My friend ran and was there in time. I was blind with anger, frustration. I cried because we tried so hard and almost got it. Almost don't count though, does it?

In the end we managed to get another flight for a small fee. It wasnt a ridiculous amount, about the cost of a night out. I calmed down after awhile, everyone was cool about it. My therapy was to buy a ridiculous amount of Droste Chocolate and Siroop waffles. In retrospect though, the trip was worth the drama in the end. We still cant stop talking about the autobahn and apples.....and the phrase "you know the story, or not?" can still make us laugh hysterically.

Gezelling, most definately gezelling.

Dreams of tattoos and Mary Jane
A slight apprehension of coming days

have i lost it?
will i stay?

ive lost my creativity
my soul is gone

I turning into a drone. Im a follower and not a leader.
I was thinking about this on the bus on the way to class- we all cant be wonderful leaders with great ideas and masses of creativity. The world wouldn't function that way- nothing will get done because everyone wants to 'lead' and has brilliant ideas but no one is gonna get down and do it. I have come to the realization that im that person. The one that gets down and does it. I dont mind getting my hand s dirty. I dont mind working hard (although innately, i am lazy). Unlike other women, i suffer at multitasking. I'm a one job girl (i do better if i can focus on one thing, do it and do it well).

Im off to Amsterdam this weekend. I hope i don't lose too many brain cells or come home with a psychiatric disease from too many hallucinogenic substances. I did plan this as a stoner weekend away. There's too much to do in london though, and its piling up.

Cooking with Dave: Haggis

Pancakes II: Pancakes for your face

These are crepes- i do prefer the fluffier american version....But pancakes non the less, and i love 'em. Crepes with cheese....(gotta love that!)

Absence Without Official Leave (AWOL)

I've been AWOL, haven't i?

Well, i was supposed to catch up with life and work- but you know what they say about good intentions and things going tits up (that means things going badly, screwed up......picked up the phrase from my placement on a breast firm).

The thing is, things haven't gone tits up at all. I went to see Linkin Park (again!!!) on monday- i manage to score cheap tickets (with much work, calling and class-skipping) and dragged my flatmate along. It wasn't excellent, we got seating tickets but with straight on view of the stage. We didnt sit for long though- ended up standing and jumping in something like 1.5 feet of space- a slip and i'll fall headlong down the seats (the show was at the O2 arena- built stadium-like with very steep seating). The music was the best (would anyone expect anything less?) and Biffy Clyro (the opening act) impressed as well.

Finally joined the gym, but im been a bit slack with the training. I've gotta keep up- me and a flatmate have a little bet going on-ive gotta be fighting fit and looking hot for a day on the beach in September. There's the bumps (a rowing race) too, and health reasons.....but health reasons are never enough. For once there isnt a man behing this new motivation to exercise, perhaps that is why im not super-motivated. There isnt a man worth obsessing about though, so i guess i just gotta do without.

Been skipping a lot of class- i cant seem to get outta bed. I get up when the alarm goes off, but i have a habit of lingering in bed for no good reason. It's ok once and awhile, but im doing this daily. Work is abandoned for moping about, doing nothing. At least now its blogging, so that's ok....

The piercing is giving me trouble- im back to warm salt water soaks for that tiny spot under my lip. Im gonna get a ring fitted in soon, whenever i get around to a piercer's. I worry, because my labret is placed waaay too far below my lip that i need a ridiculously large (and uncomfy) ring or have to get one of those silly lip loop thingys. Or re-pierce. Maybe not. Jewellery is expensive too....tsk tsk

Easter headache

i wanna go somewhere amazing, somewhere i've never been to.......come easter holidays end march.



I had the plans, even the means. The only thing was i had no one to go with. However brave and brash i seem; i'm actually rational, quite safe and concerned with safety. That is why i waited for someone to agree to come with me to Morroco. The person could not go due to parental pressure to return home. And now that i've gathered enough courage to go for it on my own, the tickets are too expensive.



There was Greece, but its too expensive for now. And no one wants to travel with me. No one.



In addition to my schedule being totally different from everyone from other uni, the ones that have the same schedule as me have declined my earnest invitations to come travelling. Instead they accepted later invitations by other of my so-called friends.



It must be me.



Now that ticket prices are pricier.....im unsure. Greece was outta the picture early- too expensive all around. Morocco is still possible because flights may be pricy, but at least on the ground it should be cheaper.



If i didnt have a summer to save money for, i'd splurge and go Morroco. At the moment, summer is hanging in balance. Im not sure if i can make the cut for the conference. Im not sure my claims will come through.

So, i've decided to see friends and tour Ireland. No, the movie P.S I Love You had nothing to do with it. It was all down to Ryan Air and St.Patrick.

never wait,

look before you follow

believe,

have faith

you are best when you are brave

Punctuality

I have a nasty habit of being late when taking my clothes outta the coin-operated washing machines in our basement. Usually, i get away with it. Rarely someone would come along that wanted to use the machine, so they'll pile the clothes up on the machine, or pop it in the laundry bag. Today someone did something amazing.

She had folded up each and every item of clothing i had (damp still) and stacked them up on the washing machine in two neat piles. On top of those there was a small mound of my knickers and a bras, nicely stacked with straps tucked away.

Im slightly appaled at the idea of someone going through my clothes like that- its kinda creepy....

inspired cupcakes

Click here

Nasi air

I see the light
It's shining bright
I think I'll have some supper tonight
Nasi air, sudu tak pernah cukup
Yang tinggal hanya pinggan dan mangkuk........
Sometimes i feel like genocide*
Sometimes i feel like suicide
But...............
I see the light
It's shining bright..............

-Thanks kiki for the inspired lyrics...... too bad i dont remember the rest, but one of us will
*we were kids when we made this song up, waaay before people started shooting their classmates. Waaaay before i actually knew what genocide meant. Gun laws are a good idea, because depressed 16 year olds will always exist.

I made nasi air today- complete with sambal! Replace the kangkung with spinach and voila! It's nostalgic and yummy......

Accompanied by apple tea......this convalescent likes to eat well....

there's a lot to be thankful for

I should be writing about how great my holiday was. There was good food (too much of it), plenty of friends (new and old) and hijinks.

But all that comes to mind is how blessed life is.

Im ill at the moment- a nasty cold that leaves my head fuzzy and my body aching. Yet, i cant complain too much.

Im praying for another good year.
For love, wisdom and fun. To have them watched over; protected and safe. For our success.

Things falling down sinks

Things are falling into place. Thanks xx

My bank manager waived my bank fees so i can now buy new jeans and choccies for family guilt free (who knew chocolates could cost so much?) and i finally settled our bed in Edinbrugh.

A friend of a former crush found out about my long over-crush on the former crush last night. If that sentence confused you, it confuses me too, but you get the gist, ja?

The former crush: He's the one i write poetry for. The one i wrote the most poetry about, anyway. It wasn't cos he was so overpoweringly insprirational, it was just cos i was in a poetry phase at the time.

Made eggy, heavy pancakes at 3 am and had them with cinnamon butter last night with some friends and a friend of friends (the same friend of former crush) after watching Ratatouile and I am Legend- must say i am getting fat, almost reaching high school levels of fatness. Ring the alarm bells!!!

What this post was suppose to be was about how small things can fall down sinks- my heart clenches at the sound of my pendant hitting the sink as i watch in horror as the shiny metal winks at me, balancing at the edge of the black hole, the cling-cling of blue crystal as it tips over the edge falling into the dark abyss of the sink.

Retrieving it is a mission- opening up pipes is never pleasant, but having to look for shiny metal and blue crystal through murky water and strands of hair coated in gunk is plain disgusting. Still, i love that pendant, im not letting it go that easily.

Found it at last, somehow ended up in the pail, under all that gunk. Washed it and cleaned it, and i managed to get it on without tossing it into the sink this time.

Oh, and i wanna say that i feel old this christmas, and i miss all my loved ones a lot this year. I miss my loud, suffocating, overbearing family, the crazy friends who know me well enough to know what i mean and my cats. Even if they dont love me- i mean the cats. People show me a lot of love; and most of the time, i feel i really don't deserve it.

Listen- Elliot Smith's Miss Misery

To vanish into oblivion
Is easy to do
And I try to be but you know me
I come back when you want me to
Do you miss me miss misery
Like you say you do?

A Long December

It's a classic, you must've heard it; sometime long ago. It's been my new year song forever. Listen to it, k? I cant wait to see you......

Lovies xx

The end?

I hate finding out that i need someone more than they need me. I want to be needed and loved. And in a situation like this, i dont know what to do. I'm making an effort, but it seems that whatever i do, it's not making things better. In fact, it's making things worse.

Im becoming someone that you dont like. Im becoming boring. Im still the stupid, airhead girl you knew. Then perhaps you thought i had potential then, something you though, if you stuck with, might become interesting.

But sad to say i never grew up, never changed; didnt get smart, complicated or cool. Just boring, untortured emo chubbette. I even have skinny jeans now.

I dont wanna lose you. I care, you've been so good to me, but i dont want us to have a massive falling out. It would take a lot for me to hate you; i suspect im nearing your threshold for hating me though. I refuse to let it happen. So im gonna just slip away. Perhaps it's best if i leave on a good note, even if there is a twinge of bitterness. I still want you to think well of me.

I understand that you dont need me; never did, and so, i take my leave.

Long december

A long december and there's reason to believe
Maybe this year will be better than the last

I can't remember the last thing that you said as you were leaving
Now the days go by so fast

And it's one more day up in the canyons
And it's one more night in Hollywood

If you think that I could be forgiven...
i wish you would

The smell of hospitals in winter
And the feeling that its all a lot of oysters, but no pearls
All at once you look across a crowded room
To see the way that light attaches to a girl

And it's one more day up in the canyons
And it's one more night in Hollywood

If you think you might come to California...
i think you should

Drove up to hillside manor sometime after two a.m.
And talked a little while about the year
I guess the winter makes you laugh a little slower,
Makes you talk a little lower about the things you could not show her

And its been a long december and there's reason to believe
Maybe this year will be better than the last

I can't remember all the times I tried to tell my myself
To hold on to these moments as they pass

And it's one more day up in the canyon
And it's one more night in Hollywood

Its been so long since I've seen the ocean...
i guess I should

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------

I've been singing this song during december for years

before i even understood what loneliness really was

or how cold it can be this time of year

I now understand somewhat

of the smell of hospitals in winter

and of numbing cold

I know how terrible it is to miss someone

and to be far away from the ocean

just trudging through the days

i'll take stock of my year

and look forward to the next

maybe it'll be better than the last

Essays

Someone teach me please, show me how.

I cant write scientific essay, dissertations or anything with substance.

I don't know how to use Pubmed, Medline confuses me, and my Athens login doesn't work.

Reading journal articles are fun, i just don't know how to extract information from them.

Help, help, help.......the essay is due tomorrow.

The Prayer

I went out this evening.
And i ran away at 12.00, not cinderella-like, but more of the Beast-style.

Im self-absorbed, and this is going to be another in depth analysis of why im a social retard. You have been duly warned.

Block Party's The Prayer is my getting ready song. Everytime i go out, i hope and wish that i will have fun. Most of the time i dont.

I feel out of place, awkward. It seems that no one has anything to say to me, and i have nothing to say to them. I'll try and make conversation, but its always boring, 'oh how was your week' talk that lasts all of two minutes before they turn around and talk to the person next to me, and i just stand there looking lost, feeling alone. If im nursing a drink, it'll be ok for awhile, but i'll drink it all up very very quickly.

I feel uncomfortable, like i dont belong. That's not new. It seems that with this group of certain people i become this introvert, i lose all my charm.

With certain others i can be entertaining, charming is a loud, brassy way. I might even seem confident, wild, joyful.

With them yeaterday, i felt unhappy i guess. They make me feel a little low in myself. I feel like im the odd one out. The fat, ugly one. The charm-less girl. I stood there having nothing to say. And i dont know how to make conversation with drunk people. King's of convenience's "I'd rather dance with you" comes to mind.

I know its partially my fault. If i'd take more of an interest in people's lives, then perhaps i could make better conversation when i see them. Do more interesting things, so i can talk about them, then just going 'yeah, im chilling out this weekend'. And learning some wicked party tricks- that'll make me popular, definately.

Lost in Translation

In the insert that came with the DVD there's a interview with Sofia Coppola and Ross Katz. In the last bit of the interview she's saying about why she made the movie-

''to convey what i love about Tokyo and visiting the city. It's about moments in life that are great but dont last. They dont go on, but you always have the memory and they have an effect on you''

Im reminded of christmas eve in Sevilla last year where i met this guy at the hostel there. I had arrived at 5 in the morning at Sevilla, having taken the bus from Madrid at 10 o'clock the night before. I only found the hostel 2 hours later after asking for directions from every drunk on the street and seeking refuge at a 24 hour churros stall where no one spoke English (but they had hot churros and coffee, bless them).

We were both sitting at the waiting room of the hostel, waiting for reception to open at 8. He was rifling through maps and papers while i was sitting there, bleary eyed and tired- our eyes met and we said hello. I asked him what he was up to- he said was gonna go sightseeing straight away. I smiled and told him that i was gonna shower and sleep first and go around a bit later. Then he told that places were closing early for christmas eve. I was blasted. I didnt have a plan and i was tired....it wasnt good.

I didn't even think it through when i asked him if i could tag along. I didnt expect him to say yes but then he said, 'sure'. I dumped my stuff with his, we grabbed some breakfast in the hostel and headed out. It wasn't awkward at all, in fact, we got along like old friends. I even forgot that i was really tired and was in need of a shower. We toured the Alcazar and after much pleading (on my part) and making sure no one was looking, he plucked an orange for me off on of the orange trees that surround the Alcazar.

We talked about things: home- his is on a farm in Brazil where his father plants coffee; about family and school. We talked about our adopted countries and how hard it is to get used to a foreign place. We wandered Sevilla- he was full of trivia and stories of the places (he had the guidebook after all). We sat down by the river to have lunch- bourbon creams, crisps, juiceboxes and bottled water as we watch the sun glinting of the water and rowers. I told him about rowing, he told me about the places he's been to and we just sat there, munching and enjoying the winter sun.

We walked along- past the bars where old ladies dance flamenco outside, fueled by alcohol and the hearty claps and cheers of everyone there. Wandered the winding streets of the Jewish quarter in the fading light of evening. The streets so narrow that balconies almost touch and in some, we had to squeeze into doorways to let cars pass. There were random pretty buildings and we'd take a quick peek through ornate doors into someone's fountained courtyard while hunting out places marked on his map.

It was late when we finally got back, and he had an early start the next day, so he went off straight to bed. I chirped a quick, 'thanks for a great day! see ya in the morning!' before he climbed up the stairs.

That was the last i saw of him. I woke up late on christmas day and didnt even get to say goodbye.

The happy song: siki siki baba

Good music week

If you've been listening to Beirut, then you'll love what ive stumbled upon.

A hawk and a hacksaw at La Blogotheque.

Kocani Orkestar is great! I cant help but feel happy listening to Macedonian wedding music. Whan i figure out how to put it on this blog, i will. It's music that makes me wanna get up and shake booty!

Start Wearing Purple- Gogol Bordello

The band's name is Gogol Bordello. Gypsy punk, that's what they're calling this riot of sound that is absolutely crazy and happy.
In an alternate universe i would be working in new york and hanging out with the likes of Gogol Bordello in seedy underground clubs.
I love the campyness, OTT drama/crazyness, accordions and borat-esque lead singer. Its a weird but not all too bad sound.
And i heartily approve of wearing purple all the time.

The experiment begins

Baby BenQ crashed this morning.
I cant find my copy of microsoft office.

But, Adrafinil has just arrived through the mail.

Im elated and hopeful.

The information sheet is in French. But i've figured out that i have to take 2-4 tablets per day. I guess that's what "2 a 4 comprimer par jour" means.

Im gonna take one with lunch, and see what happens.
Wish me luck people. This may usher in a new era of brainier, better me or.............lets not even explore the less than favourable alternative. The drug is classed as a psychostimulant.

Im just really curious if it really does works.

Update

I got a wee bit hyper in the afternoon, but no percievable improvement in concentration or focus. I slept like a baby. Damn, maybe a up in dosage is needed.

Sisu

DSC01167
Originally uploaded by n.eliza.

Sixteen Military Wives - The Decemberists

Since im on a roll, and i might as well entertain you lot.

Just in case you didnt know, or forgot, The Decemberist rock. Not in a Machine Head kind of way, but in the way that they make good stuff. And this video is uber-funny. And thought provoking at the same time.

On a side note-my essay is not going anywhere. Someone help- to get my essay done, and another someone to drive me to Lyon to see Beirut. Please.........

The Mariner's Revenge Song

The Decemberist weave a happy upbeat tune that belies a dark and tragic tale of a young man's life long quest for revenge.

Worth 8 minutes of your life to watch. These guys did a pretty good job acting the song out too.

Dont forget to sing along:

" Find him, bind him
Tie him to a pole
And break his fingers to splinters
Drag him to a hole
Until he wakes up, naked
Clawing at the ceiling of his grave "

Alanis Morissette sings My Humps

The best parody ive heard in ages....A right good laugh!!!! Alanis has this amazing ability to make even the most inane song (my humps) sound poignant.

mayan-aztec astrology

Your Most Personal Traits -- The Day-Sign of Your Birth

Here are your strongest and most obvious personality traits. The delineation below describes who you are and how you appear to others, at least on the surface. In Aztec astrology this part of is your horoscope is your Tonalli, or Day-Sign, the form bestowed upon you by the Sun.

Flower: You are a person motivated by your ideals. You have a beautiful vision of what life, and most importantly life with another, can be. In many cases, your obsession with the future and perfection leads to illusions, unrealistic expectations and, ultimately, disappointments. In your effort to create a more perfect world, you try to be as "nice" as possible to others.

The world of art and beauty holds your interest. You could be a successful artist, or more usually, craftsperson -- a producer of decorative or aesthetically pleasing products. You may have a particular liking for jewelry. While you appreciate man-made things, you also appreciate the perfection of nature. The more intellectual Flower personalities will be interested in the beauty of numbers or ideas.

Relationships, particularly close, intimate relationships, are your greatest challenge. You must be with others -- at least that is what you think you must do. But your motivations are complex. In many cases, you may be using others to meet your security needs, yet you may be unaware of this. Relationships can become so fraught with problems that you find it easier to stay home and dream, a temporary, though deeply unsatisfying solution to your relationship dilemma.

A major stumbling block in relationships is your unwillingness to compromise your ideals. You can be a very stubborn person who would rather die then accept a less-than-perfect situation. You will devote yourself to another with unbelievable intensity -- and hold on for years after the relationship has ended. Such fanaticism leads to an unbalanced life, exactly what you fear the most. You should strive to become more well-rounded and flexible.

Over the course of your life you will realize, to some extent, your dreams and ideals. Your devotion and dedication to another, or even to a cause or crusade, is considerable and can effect changes in the world around you. You are a person who takes on the responsibilities and work involved in such projects, and you are rewarded accordingly. Ultimately you are a person who needs to combine realism and idealism, and when this is done, the doors will open to a more perfect world.

Is it mania or plain and simple self obsession
when i think everything is a sign
for me

The shade of sky
the broken plate
all that goes wrong
or right

A reminder
Lest i forget

A warning
should i dare defy

The photoshoot

I spent my sunday afternoon with my best mate getting our photos done!

For someone so ugly and fat i am very vain. And thus i spent an exorbitant amount of money to have a few copies of the photos i liked best. They arent the sexiest, or the most posed, but its the photos that i think capture my spirit best.

I look a bit silly, slightly droll and quirky, but definately me. Yes, i can look slightly sophisticated too.........

My best mate looks stunning in her shots. She looks great most of the time, but in her photos she looks fucking awesome!

So yeah, check out phatty's photos on the side bar. And laugh. I hope at least when my grandkids see it (hopefully, god willing, i'll have a few) they'll think, yeah, she was cool in her day.

Heart breaks

Im leaving my lovely Scottish doctor behind and i found out that i missed Beirut playing live in london. In fact, his whole bloody UK tour.

Anyone living in Lyon?
Driving down to Lyon next friday, in time to be there by saturday evening?

I have a sleeping bag, and if you let me, quite happy to sleep on your floor/ in your barn/ in the car.

I know the tickets are sold out (that's what i think 'Pas de places disponibles' means) but i know if i'm there i could wangle a ticket. Somehow.

So, anyone doing a roadtrip to Lyon? Its ok if you're driving down earlier- im free from wednesday. I may have to hitch a truck ride back to london saturday night after the gig- i start a new firm on that coming monday.

New firm, hence i'll be leaving lovely Scottish doctor and will be missing the 'just the two of us' ward rounds, him enticing me with chocolate before 9 am, and just listening to him talk........

There are joys though- Beirut has a new album! The Flying Cup Club!!!

The more i see and listen, the more my heart breaks because i missed them. I love them/him! Come back to England, Zach Condon, please!

Listen!!! Just pick a picture- you wont regret it!

cute

he called me cute.
he keeps on telling people im cute.
and sweet.
and a good student.

i adore him. he has the cutest scottish accent. i love the way he says 'perf'.

he's a brilliant doctor as well, and i love the way he treats patients. he's so smart and friendly. he takes the time to introduce me to patients and explains things to me. he buys me (and the team) cups of coffee.

he shouldnt have told me he thought i was cute.

im convinced he means it in the 'adorable but ugly' sense.

It doesnt matter though, at least he has an opinion about me.


never ever tell an impressionable girl with a frail sense of self worth that she's cute. Especially if she adores you and follows you around like a lost puppy. She'll have a stupid grin on her face and obsess about it. for days on end.


at least i look forward to something in the mornings.

silly me

Henley

My second year on the henley trip.

I had fun this year. It was good fun. I wouldnt put it down to alcohol, but maybe because i've warmed up to the other rowers, and them to me. I adore the girls and more comfy with the boys (when they're not stupidly drunk).

Partied hard on friday and then did some leisurely rowing all day saturday. It wasnt all stressed- there was some coaching, and a lot of it was for the freshers, so i was left well alone. Henley is beautiful as always, but somehow its a lot more beautiful this weekend than i remembered. The sun glinting off the water and the gorgeous autumn trees in rusty browns and orange......and rolling hills in the distance. Even that jog i had didnt kill my good mood.

I will try to be droll

I always though droll had a bad meaning, like someone that's a bore and always complaining (i.e yours truly) but i found out today it has totally opposite meaning.

droll /dr@Ul/
· adj. amusing in a strange or quaint way.
· n. archaic a jester; a buffoon.
– DERIVATIVES drollery n. drollness n. drolly /"dr@Ulli/ adv.
– ORIGIN C17: from Fr. drôle, perh. from MDu. drolle ‘imp, goblin’.

The weekend has been wasted, but in a good way. I still have things unfinished, but im not too worried yet.

I watched Frida (the movie), slept tonnes, read up on greek mythology and malaria. Oh, and i called up my parents.

Must finish off pbl tonite and call up some friends just to chat.

Did i tell you all how im in love with my surgical registrar? He doesnt give two hoots about me, but im a smitten kitten anyways.....

Inarticulate

i'm spending the weekend in harlow- spent my time wisely....i watched the whole first season of Heroes and got tonnes of sleep.

Think i might be able to face next week.

I was suicidal on friday. The horrible mix of bad week, PMS and nasty luck making me hate life and forsee no future.

I still cannot forsee any future for myself, not in medicine, not in anywhere. Its like i lost my 3rd eye. Im used to knowing what to expect and now i just cant see where this is going.

I've lost motivation and really, i dont know what im doing..............

What the hell was i thinking when i thought i could do this whole medicine thing.

Argh- i my hate life, i hate me, i have no idea what's going on.

Will have proper update when back in london in a week.
Thank God its a nice autumn day outside.

Humdrum hospital life

Going for clinical placements is supposed to be a great and exciting time, where im learning at the frontline of medicine, putting my knowledge and skills to the test.

Instead im taking naps at midday.

Its been a let-down. And i dont know if its me, my firm or my house-officer. I've been on firm for 2 days- and the total hours ive been on the wards is probably 5 hours. Today was slightly better than yesterday. Yesterday i went in for about an hour- got some teaching on taking a history and appendicitis and then was sent to the library to do some 'reading'. The library was cold so i went to my room for a nap. My post-mortem at 12 was cancelled so i faffed about till the lecture at 1. In the afternoon i hunted down my house-officer for a good 45 minutes, i bleeped him 3 times! When i managed to call him, he sent me home for the day.

Today i came in bright and early and had a ward round. Saw a patient and did a clinical examination, though not throughly. Got some teaching and then got sent off home. The firm only has 3 patients- we did have 4, but one got sent to another department. I arrived back at my room at 11.30, napped and hit the local library for some internet.

Not what i was looking for. Or expecting or anticipating from my clinical firms. I would've been content if everyone else wasn't learning anything- but they're all running about and doing things. They're taking blood, clearking patients, being grilled by consultants (its twisted, but i really want to be grilled- it makes me learn) and having a proper clinical education.

I haven't even met my consultant.

Maybe its me. Maybe its the fact that i had a bird shit on my head on Monday.

A bird with diarrhoea.

I was standing in Liverpool St. station when suddenly i heard a splat and felt wetness on my head and saw green white bird poo all over my lovely red jacket. It killed all the excitement i had for firms. Some people say its lucky. I think its a bloody chore and fucking embarrasing. I had towash my hair in the sink at the station toilet and pop my jacket in a paper bag to clean later that evening.

Maybe some would consider it lucky that i get to take afternoon naps, eat pizza and be stupid and lazy. I dont want to. I want to learn. While im still motivated, shiny and new. Before i start hating hospitals, become fat and lazy and get bad habits.

Or maybe, just maybe, its me.

Pauper no more

I hate always being the broke one.
I never have enough money.

Its always been an issue with me. Am i too lazy , too blase when it comes to finances?

Do i spend too much or care too little about making money?

Its envy, everyone else is doing so well, and here i am, pretty much a proper starving student. Im living off free dinners, the kindness of others and Sainsbury's basics oven chips.

What happen to the cycle of wealth? What happened to all my savings, all that planning, all that self denial?

I have no fucking idea. I have to get to the bottom of this. I really need to check. I dont wanna always be the broke one, hell no.

Deep s**t

Im gonna be in trouble.

Im actually 2 and a half months behind my rent, and i have no money to pay it off.
I broke my camera and i want a new one.
Im moving away and i need to travel back and forth often.

I dont wanna run to my parents for help. But there's no other way to get money. No other way.

I knew they'd be hell to pay for summer.

Friendless and angry

I do realize that im a social retard with no friends, what i didnt realize is the extent of my anger. I have made enemies. I thought they were friends- i hoped that we were.But now that i've let the evilness out, i've made proper enemies, the kind i havent made in a while. I try not to pick fights- when you're a social retard you wanna keep what few friends you already have.

Like all major fights, this was a bad case of miscommunication and stubborness. Everything else i was willing to forgive. Not telling me anything, when you knew i had vested interest, is upsetting. What is infuriating is that you spent the whole evening with me. You talked to me. You knew it mattered a lot to me and i was losing sleep over it.
And they couldnt have the courtesy to wait, to ask, make a short phone call.

I think i kind of screamed at them on the phone. And hung up on someone. And argued face to face.

I hate it when people hate me. But i lost self control this time. Good thing i didnt spontaneously combust.

Sorry Big Guy Upstairs. I hope you'll give me strength and temperance.

Sing it like it is

Thank Buzz- i wouldnt know of this song if it werent for you. This is one of songs where the words could have been taken straight out of my mouth.
Im not particularly wednesday-sy at the moment, but this song captures the slight desperation and hopeless questioning i feel every time a wave of the 'wednesdays' hits.

He's arrived!!

He got here today! I wasn't expecting him to arrive so soon, but he did. He's a little smaller than i expected, but he feels just right in my arms. I love him already!

i love talking and i hate sneaky bastards

Those who know me will realize that i love talking. Im not a wonderful conversationalist, sadly, because of of my social retardity and lack of wit. But given a person strapped in a chair with eyes taped open - i could probably talk to them to death. They'd die of bad conversation or boredom or both.

Talking rarely gets me anywhere. Not to bright, i'm limited talking of happy, simple everyday things. Simply said i talk more than i do.

My procrastination is killing me; this usually because of the 'talk more than do'. I say things and hell, i never get them done. It will kill me one day and more painfully than rusty poles stuck into my abdomen. I'm try my best to work around it, but somehow, i fall into the trap time and time again.

So far im lucky that there are always people to catch me, kick my ass and get me going. It's not gonna last and they're not gonna be there forever. One day i'll fall, hit my head real hard on the landing and die of a subarachnoid haemmorrhage.

Im sneaky bastard; and i hate myself, so saying that i hate sneaky bastards is not a contradiction. Its worst when they're sneaky bastards i think i can trust, people i spend time with and talk to. I trust these people, i have long, albeit boring conversations and i was just beginning think that they'll bother to talk to me about something that may affect me (a lot).

Then they do something, quickly, quietly, and serve me up with an ultimatum. What's even better was that i was made to look like the idiot because of my fucking procrastination. What's brilliant (i can appreciate a good sneak, even if im the victim) is that they know they have the upper hand. The ploy perfect. Sneaky bastards. Damn it.

Im not a very good victim- Lets use a Jaws analogy (not that im a vicious sea creature on the top of the food chain). As the shark, i see a shadow on the surface and take a nibble, and realize that this is not the yummy seal i thought it was, its a chubby human thigh. Humans taste vile to sharks and so they usually let go, and the shark attack victims dont usually get eaten, they die of blood loss (clinical shock). Fooled by the sneaky fat human thigh, the shark will trash, make waters murky and generally make a mess. I do that when i get duped- not make people bleed, but bitch and whine liberally to anyone who stand within hearing distance for longer than 3 seconds. Im not very good at getting back at people- my memory's too short for revenge. So i murk out waters as much as can while i remember and let people manage through the mess. In most cases people dont care and dont realize that ive been bitching about them for hours.

The shark analogy is rubbish.

But my memory is not as bad as i think it is. I do remember the grievances, its just that i carry them inside. My core's all rotten with bad thoughts that have festered too long. In a year or two i'll get paranoid, think that the world is plotting against me and never leave my room.

over and out

lovies

huggies,

kissies and

a pout

Feedback

I had volunteered to interview a 'patient' (an actor) in our communication skills class today. It was nerve-wrecking. It started with me waiting for the patient, and when she came in, i stood up, asked her name and mumbled something about taking a seat.

The introduction was standard, and i began with the prerequisite open question. Got a bit of the history from the open question but 2 minutes in my ears were turning hot and i had run out of things to ask. What to do you ask a patient with a history of non specific epigastric pain brought on by stress and large meals? I couldnt even phrase the questions about bowel movement questions right.

And the whole empathy thing makes me feel like such a hypocrite- as part of 'good communication skills' we have to say things like 'i understand how you feel' and 'im sorry to hear that'. There should be a glimmer of genuine empathy when saying it, but really, i feel like a faker. Im just saying these things because i know i have to show the patient im listening and i care. Its not that i dont care about the patient, i just think saying a phrase doesnt necessarily mean you care. It just appears as if you do. I felt so fake- during the interview i was thinking, "oh yeah, say that, sound empathic..."

My ears were burning and i was running out of questions fast. I was going through my mental list of questions and trying to tick then off, which by the way, is not the way to do a consultation. I did the classic stalling technique- quick recap of information gleaned from the patient, hopefully it'll trigger either fresh questions from my point of view or a comment from the patient. Didnt work for me though. I was stuck, and stuck good.

I did get the patient to open up a bit more, but i had totally missed a clear clue/flag in what the patient was saying. I was so harried, i didnt really listen and picked up that her symptoms were brought on by stress. It was my cue was to ask her to elaborate about the stress- i missed it instead and so didnt get a whole chunk of information.

By this point i was looking at my tutor (the very fit, yummy and slighty quirky young lecturer) with a desperate 'come and save me' look. He ignored me the first time, but the second time he got a hint and ended the session. Relief.

What was really surprising was i didnt get shot down, criticised or screamed at for being such a twat. The feedback was mixed. It was like criticism wrapped up in lots of candy floss and fluffy cushions so i wouldnt feel the slight slap on my wrist or terrible the burn of embarrasment (there were 7 other people, my classmates, watching me do this).

It bothered me, because i work better when i know exactly what how i've screwed up, where and when. I can fix something when i know what, where and how badly its broken. I dont really like 'lets look at what was good' approach to feedback- hell, if im doing that ok i dont have to know about it. I wanna know where i suck. And how to fix it.

What ive learned is that i gotta 'signpost'- a fancy way of warning people subtly that a sensitive question is coming up. Just so that the patient knows its coming and is not surprised by the bluntness of these personal questions. Also, signposting can also be a show (read:show) of empathy.

i also have to learn to be comfortable with silence. Ask a question and let the patient think. Not to be so quick to lead the patient, offer ideas or alternatives. Instead, allow the patient a good 30 seconds to mull the questions and formulate their answers- if they're still stuck, then yeah, either clarify the question, rephrase it, or offer up some vocabulary to kick start the patient's brains.

And most important is to not get so hung up on the symptoms. Most of the time i find im asking questions to confirm my diagnosis. In a sense im being biased because im looking for the 'right' answer from the patient. I ignore or pay less attention to other things the patient is saying that doesn't support my diagnosis. I close my mind to other options or alternatives explanations and in this lies the danger. I might miss something important because it didnt fit in what was the diagnosis in my mind. Worse, if i do that im caring more for the disease than the patient.

There's a lot more things, but these to me are probably key issues i gotta address. Sigh, the suffering of a witless social retard.

Onde-onde

Disclaimer: nicked this pic off someone's blog. I wish my onde-onde looked this good. Let's start with something sweet before we get on with the bitter and ugly.

It been a trying week. The first few days of ramadhan- the fasting month- have not been kind. My stomach rumbles and roars. I get exhausted and light headed from the lack of food and water. Just when i think im getting the hang of it, i get my period, so i get a break from fasting. So im happily eating during the day, enjoying a full blown lunch and many cookie and coffee breaks. I seem to be lacking my usual ramadhan resolve. The holy month is a time to reflect and repent- for a month we are free of satan's presence. But satan's influence lingers. And im fighting a failing battle against temptation. I find it difficult to fast, what more everything else?

It's difficult to explain. Im still trying to figure it out. Im a hypocritical, undecisive, flaky person. Im keeping the faith, just flaunting the rules.

I've got conjuctivitis of my right eye- it's clearing up but im still feeling a bit crummy. Add a good measure of PMS and cramps from hell- i feel absolutely shit.

I accidentally swallowed my clear labret retainer. That's the plasticky thing i use to keep my piercing open but invisible- i had to go to the wards this week. I didnt cap the end because it was a bit too short, and during dinner that day i acccidentally swallowed it. I didnt realize till i looked in the mirror and realized it was gone! My piercing is ok though- got my usually metal thingie back in.

I made onde-onde for the malaysian society fresher's fair- it turned out pretty well. I got the balance between sweet potatoes and pulut flour just right. So even when the onde-onde is cold the texture was still soft, not at all chewy. A good bite will release the dark, smoky sweetness of gula melaka that contrasts so well with the lightly salted coconut in the outside.

I gave myself a cramp kneading the dough and all the way i was bitching about Z. There's a long story there apart from the fact he asked me to make the onde-onde (there was no one else to bully). Still, I think he got unfairly bad-mouthed (slightly more that he deserved) because i was manifesting all my 'men' angst on him.

Thanks to S for making me realize that "sitting, waiting, wishing" is not a happy song.

Thanks to another S for getting the Escape (pina colada) song stuck in my head.

Thanks to all the drivers in London for not running over the fat girl on the black and orange bike.

Thanks God, for everything.

Yours

Chubbette xx

I miss you