It's depressing but hopeful

It's back

All the fear, inadequacies, worry.


I know I am blessed, loved and lucky- yet still feel so incomplete, empty and hollow. It's a gnawing in my gut.

There's this phrase; punching above one's weight. I feel like I'm punching above my weight everyday these last 2 years. Im nearly a registrar; but dont feel it. I feel like a fraud everyday, scooting by on little knowledge and lots of nice.

Im still waiting for the results of the exam in early september, but need to start studying tonight for the next one. My heart sinks. Why cant I recall facts the way I did as a kid?! Retain information I read only once? My photographic memory and ability to understand things in a flash is not as it used to be.

And regarding the man- my feelings and my head have reached an impasse. So I will continue as I am- making this up as I go along.  It's comfortable and cozy and we're having fun so im not going to spoil a good thing. He's so laidback he's letting me do what I like.

And my avoidance and procrastinating behavior is back. I fall in a lull and then I've wasted a couple of hours on movies and phone calls.

Waiting for results

The exams were HARD.

Having the boy over was bittersweet. He sleeps better when I'm around (considering he has an insomnia problem I shouldnt take it as an insult) and we did our usual eat, screw and sleep.  And sleep he did. I went for a shower and when I came out I was unable to wake him for a night out.We watched a whole movie together.

I was at his again this weekend and we went shopping for his mother's and sister's birthday presents. We also got our eyebrows threaded and we went our bar hopping in the evening. He sat down to roast dinner with more of my friends.

Then I spent Sunday evening sharing my insecurities with him; I held him close and admitted: quitting him is gonna be hard.

And quit him I must.

The reason I spent Sunday evening there: a first date didnt quite pan out.
Midweek he's seeing someone for a second date.
He's going away in October and he has two stops: at the first he is staying with an ex-girlfriend (from what I gathered is 'the one that got away') and there's a girl he's traveling especially to meet; they've been talking online for years.

What am I? The girl who helps him sleep. The one that keeps him from doing stupid things for sex. The one that take him out on adventures and do random things with. The girl who is teaching him how to drink.

What is he to me? I like him, I want him to like me. He's the first guy I slept with and at the moment the only one. He's my place to stay in London, drinking and restaurant buddy. He makes me feel beautiful and when we're together I feel special.

I used to be certain that he's not lying, but now im not so sure. Am I just an easy screw? I wont deny I make it easy- I go there, im always game and i dont cause a fuss when he mentions his other women. I even give him advice.

It thought I could get through this without caring, but Im getting attached. I buy him shoelaces for God's sake. 
And when he lent me his jumper, all I did on the train home was sniff it till I felt like I was drowning in the smell of his detergent.

Oh where the devil makes us spin

I heard this ages ago on a TV show- cannot remember what it was and why but the song stuck. It was on loop on my phone.

It popped up again and I dont think it's made an appearance on here.

Funny how some some songs burrow deep and elicit visceral reactions- a tingle goes up my spine, spread across my shoulders and I get goosebumps down my arms. If I close my eyes I start feeling heady and heavy.

It's not an entirely unwelcomed feeling.

But not now. Plenty time for that later.
Revision first.




Embarrassingly: I think I first heard thing song on Sucker-punch (my little secret pleasure, dont tell).

The original video to this song is very provocative, it's retired porn actress going through one of her old films. Thoughtful...and smutty.

"We are each our own devil, and we make this world our hell." - Oscar Wilde

Get drunk

4 days to exam.

So many things to worry about.
My head space is becoming muddy again. My self esteem is sliding.
Have not been doing those online CBT exercises.

Im too excited about seeing him. He's coming over for the weekend after the exam. 

Im starting to miss cigarettes and alcohol.
Cannot remember the last time I got drunk.

Did I mention this nasty cough lingering for 3 weeks? I think I have good old pertussis.
Need antibiotics but not taking them as Im concerned they'll mess up my revision time.
I'll get it sorted after the exam. Life is on hold for this exam.

Cigarettes and robitussin, will i ever get to heaven?
It's not looking good now
It's not looking good now

This time next week

The Exam will be done.
I hope to have passed, it'll be a month before I know.

I have 6 days.

I can make it.

“Never make someone a priority when all you are to them is an option.”

“Never make someone a priority when all you are to them is an option.”

True dat.

Cannot seem to find a consistent source for this quote. I like it and it imparts an important lesson. Thus it is here.

Perfect man

I have met the perfect man today.

Beautiful. Intelligent. Funny.
We connected over volatile gasses and mathematics.

He explained difficult concepts.
I felt intellectually challenged, cared for and empowered.

He was kind and supportive.
The most perfect bubble butt I have ever seen on a man. I just wanted to sink my teeth into it.


He's also my consultant, married with a dog and maybe kids.

"Isn't ironic," sings Alanis, "It's meeting the man of my dreams, and then meeting his beautiful wife."

And the man I'm 'seeing' is comforting another woman tonight.
As a woman I know she wants him back and from eavesdropping I know I am to her the 'Ugly Girl' of the Fiona Apple song of the same name.
He know how to pick them though. She's as depressed, clingy and needy as I am, maybe even worse.
He doesn't know that about me, yet.
She's beautiful. Does it matter that she's Brazilian?

The exams in in 9 days.
Im distracted not only by the opposite sex, but anaesthetics.
I could love it. I could just love this. If I get smart and witty, this might be something amazing.

Confused

'Let's go on holiday...How does Morocco sound?' 

  'I'd love to. Yeah, it'll be great...Let's go in September?' 

'I was thinking in the new year....maybe February?'

- Silence -
- Slow turn of head, mastication stopped. Stare -

'What, you don't plan that far?...Or you're going somewhere?' 

- Confusion, hope, bewilderment, frustration and wonder -

  'I ain't going nowhere' 

- shrugs -

  'It's my birthday in February, you know. 26th.'


*yeah, i know, you can't make this shit up. That's when we talk. A lot of the time we don't. I have tortured internal monologues where I say my piece is a sensible structured way, clearly knowing and stating what i want and how i'd like things to go. Then I just look at him, looking out the window wishing i could still read minds. He catches me looking and I smile*

Panic cord

I have a career defining exam in 14 days.
I'm not passing the mock exam papers.

Im getting too excited to see the boy tonight. I miss him a little.
Im looking for distractions from the exams.

I need to pass this exam. I do not need the distraction
I have to pass. God help me, I have to.


I heard this song playing in the background this morning.
It's a little disconcerting to go, 'oh no, im not that person they're singing about, am i?'
There is much to say about delusions of reference.

I just realised that Colin Meloy (of Decemberist fame) and Carson Ellis (illustrator of most Decemberist albums) are married to each other!

So cute.

Entering manic phase after all the depressive weeks. Distractable and panicky.

Exam in 2 weeks.

Panic.
panic panic.

Im giving myself 48 hours of fun with the boy this weekend. I told him im jumping his bones and going. I've let all the emotions stew for a bit and I think this whole arrangement can work. As long as i keep my feelings in check and know that he will never feel about me that way.

Im trying to think of an analogy but I cant.

I can tell you that quinidine is a typre Ia anti-arrhythmic that blocks conduction and increases the effective refractory period.

pray for me. send good vibes my way.
wish me luck

Im sorry

I find it difficult to control my emotions and im sorry you're getting the short stick.
Im sorry I get irksome- I find it hard not to be possessive. Good God it's so hard not to think of you as mine, all mine. Or at least wanting to think so.

You dont adore me. You do not worship the ground I walk upon.

You dont lie to me, you treat me decently and with respect. You would not hurt me purposefully.

I now understand these women who stay with men they cannot have at the peril of heartbreak. It's so hard not to fall. The slope is greased, the fall so gentle, bottomless. I am becoming one of them.

I would not resent this fall so much if it wasn't for the fact he does not and will not think of me that way. I am for him a project- I have given up that agenda weeks ago, but for him I am an unfinished project on his list; once I am done and ready I am to be released into the world to meet wonderful men that are out there.

He is a friend. He is someone I trust. He drives me crazy both a good way and a bad way. I hate seeing him hurt and I want to see him happy.

He is a friend and I care about him.

Lonely

There's solitude, being comfortable and content being alone. Enjoying one's own company.

There's loneliness, this feeling I now get daily; an empty hollow feeling that I try and fill by looking up twitter, facebook and blogs. This discomfiture with being alone with my thoughts.

My thoughts that in the last couple of months is repetitive- thoughts of inadequacy, fear of the future, fear of failure.

I have finally spoken to a healthcare professional regarding my melancholy- i suspect it is now full blown depression and anxiety. Down to a point where it's affecting who I am.

I'm darkly humourous; im not depressive.

Im cheerful with a realist, cruel streak; not this practical robot.

I have lost my joie de vivre- I used to relish my aimless wandering, all my life experience; now im a frightened rabbit with the confidence of a mole rat (not the Kim Possible one- he's a confident, amazing naked mole rat).

I've stopped singing and dancing. I don't want to pick fights. 

I have homework. There's online CBT, workbooks to do. There's the Chimp Paradox to read.
I need to self refer to see a psychologist, which will take a couple of weeks.

It's tough to admit that I need the professional help. But life is becoming more challenging and I have never been more unsupported in my life. I dont blame anyone for this- it's the unfortunate sequelae of being sad; i hide away and lose touch.

And then there is doctoring, the man who doesn't want me that way and my desire to live a full and exciting life.

I will fight for my life. I only have one and it's worth fighting for. I will work hard to do well, get happy and get what I want. I've been lucky and blessed, I still am, just gotta fight for it a little.

The original is better because Thom Yorke is a hot ginger

My phone seem to pick out the most inappropriate songs to play at his.

I was packing and Radiohead's Creep started playing.
He walks in and tell me its one of his favourite- there was a point in his life where the song meant a lot to him. He plays his preferred version by some lady with a high pitched happy voice singing in perfect harmonies.

I tell him,"The original is better because Thom Yorke is a hot ginger; and also the lady sounds too happy. The singer has to be tortured". We went through depressing songs of the nineties: I pretty much name the whole back catalog of Radiohead; namely Fake Plastic Trees and Karma Police. Vertical Horizon came to mind but for the life of me I couldn't recall the name then. He chose Everybody Hurts.



The last time it did this my phone decided to play Unforgettable by Nat King Cole as we were having a goodbye make out session. That was awkward and intense.

At some point Blur's No Distance Left to Run will feature on here (shout out to Shazzers, who at 16 picked out the best song for every ending). When it happens it will hurt. There will be tears, there might be blood. I hope not too soon.

I am see-through, soap sliver you’re so thin

Now dissolve me, two tabs on your tongue
A herd of shepherds to herd the sheep, sleep now my only one
Broken sweethearts who sleep apart
Both still pine for the other’s side spine, spoon as sleep starts
And pulse to pulse, now shush
She makes the sound the sea makes to calm me down




I am see-through, soap sliver you’re so thin
As I begin rubbing lathers up your state worsens on my skin
And gold, fatless finger to lip, one two three four hush
And pulse to pulse, now shush
She makes the sound the sea makes to calm me down
She makes the sound the sea makes, I’m tired now
She makes the sound the sea makes, knee-deep in the north sea

Selamat Hari Raya

My eighth Raya away from home.

I miss the melee, the insanity, the love.
I miss the baju baru, the eating excessively, running after errant cousins and rolled up sleeves to dish out more rendang. And basuh pinggan because we've run out of clean plates/glasses/forks.
"makan dengan tangan jer!"

"It's when you have deodorant and a spare pair of tights there...."

"... you know you're kinda established" -Richard from work (Qualifications: married man and all round nice guy)

What does it mean if I have a pair of pyjamas, make up remover and a toothbrush there... and planning to move in a dressing gown?
Plus there's all those clothes I left when i repacked at his house- all shoved under his bed (reminds me to bring a large spare bag to London this weekend).

3 weeks is too long.
I wonder if he misses me.

I don't dare ask.

You're north of heaven, maybe somewhere west of hell.

I have had a difficult year

I know I spoke of fresh starts last August, but it seems that this year was worse than the last. Let's analyze the last year and make some comparisons.

Career 
Things have not progressed as much as I'd like it to. My F2 year (last year) was a struggle of too many hats, too little time; this training year one (of 3) has basically been a dud on the CV. I have achieved very little professionally except to chalk up 3 formal complaints and one serious incident investigation (yeah, and i cant even say nobody died). That's two years essentially wasted.

What went wrong: I got depressed and stressed. I lost focus of who I was and what I was doing. I worked hard but didn't work smart. I now realised that the slog is not going to cut it anymore. I have to learn how to balance a personal life and a work one, because one works to live; and not the other way around. I failed to plan. Not having a professional calendar and not spending time talking shop, learning about things i could do to boost my career prospects. I need to learn to love my job again,  to love learning and to find the joy of doing what I do, because it is special. Being a doctor is special and I need to remember that.

Fixing it: Passing in September, passing in January, Doing the Ultrasound course, Finishing the ED audit and doing a anesthetic one. More training days, doing the simulation course. Find a masters.
Very very important: find a MENTOR. Someone to guide me, to aspire to and to talk shop to.

Financially
I have been living paycheck to paycheck for the last year. I do not have the advised 6 months wages saved. I cannot afford any major disasters or a car.

What went wrong: I spent like there was no tomorrow. Didn't think and didn't budget. Was extravagant with silly things. I was lazy and didn't think about the value of things. Shopping became therapy for the depression and stress. I will be going onto basic pay (a 500 quid paycut) for the next 3 months.

Fixing it: Budget. A weekly budget, with an attempt at 20% wages into savings. Buy a new bike (that's at least 60 quid a month savings, plus free exercise). Plan train tickets in advance. Be frugal with day to day meals. Making sure I spend money where it matters: good food with friends, experiences and travel.

I will be your accident if you will be my ambulance

And I will be your screech and crash if you will be my crutch and cast
And I will be your one more time if you will be my one last chance

Oh sweet tree, fall with me
Fall fast, fall free, fall with me

-Ambulance; TV on the Radio

*this should be sung in A&E, perhaps during a trauma call....if only life was more like Scrubs

No. 3

Madeline's been stolen.
Bike No. 3.
Front door was wedged open and as I was rushing to work this morning she wasn't where I left her. She wasn't anywhere in the building, neither was 2 other bikes.

Her name was Madeline before I even met her.

There goes my ride to work.

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

'You're number 5'
'Im number 5? Well's that's always been my lucky number, 5...and 13.'

Things I want at my wedding

A groom
-I need to find one. I just realised that this one probably isnt it.

Cute children
 -possibly my brother's, or cousins's or worse come to worst mine, but momma would be disappointed

Family and friends
-I have to keep the two separate; it'll only be a disaster if the family finds out what i really get up to 

Mariachi band. Or the Gypsy Kings.
 -my grandmother, bless her heart will not understand. The second cousins will sit there and woe with her while i dance to Bem, Bem Maria.

Open bar
-it'll be our secret dad!

Scented flowers

TTA cakes, candy and lavender pouchettes.

 *to be fair, all i really need is a groom, loved ones and a mariachi band. Im flexible like that.

So drown me if you can, or we can just have conversation

Dumb ways to die

Hailstorm

And there I was lying next to you wishing i didnt have to leave
Knowing that I have to go because i was stubborn and didn't want to appear weak, needy.

First there was lightning and the loud crack of thunder.
The sky opened and poured down rain.
And then the hail fell.

I had to look, watch the hail pelt the window. The cracks appearing on your window, feel the cold.
Within and without.
And in that moment I felt an overwhelming fear of everything.
You held me and it didnt make it much better.
I did feel less alone.

We had our most serious conversation yet.
Your lack of belief and my yearning to believe.
The cab came, the goodbye kiss.

The street was wet and there were bits of hail on the ground.

I thought about you half the time I was away.
And now Im here and you're away.

I write these down because there should be a record of my emotional breakdown

Received another complaint at work- another unhappy punter. Another bad decision on my part.

Hmphhhh. I cried throughout the day at work. I barely made it through. Made my first police witness report, through tears. Fun fun.

And then I come home to an early nap before commencing work.

I get a text from the boy. He's drinking and lamenting the lack of attractive people at current watering hole (he's on one of the channel islands). Yeay for drunkard text? (as i type this im thinking, 'Oh dear Liez, what the hell? You're pathetic enough to be happy with the odd tipsy text message and whatever little sign of affection you get? Really?!!!' Maybe my friends are right. Maybe I deserve better. Little cute gestures be damned- Im deserving of 'boombox outside of bedroom window' grandiose gesture.)

watch for the slide
it's a slippery slope and im gaining velocity

Sicily Succinctly

Mediterranean sunshine, good food and meeting great people.

Amazing seafood, arancini, peaches and cheap beer. Even cheaper coffee. 40 cent espressos.

Granitas.

Dinner with two professors and a sociologist; Walking across Italian highways to get to a beach party, staying up all night and eating pastries while watching the sunrise. Watching Tom have raw oysters at 7 am.

There is an heavily tattooed, lovely Italian man called Paolo who is our Italian Fairy Godfather (shout out to Matt from Cali, love you dude).

Watermelons :P

Became an Isabella Blow for the next up and coming Alexander McQueen of Knitwear. He's 6'4, a Northern teddybear with black false nails. Buying him lunch was my investment in the arts.

Was watched over by 3 men as we partied at the local hotspot in Palermo (it's a fish market by day and the area was never regenerated after being bombed in WW2). It was a brilliant night. Josh said he faced 'boyfriend envy'- I was very flattered to hear that.

Was scared at the Catacombs in Palermo- it felt as if the dead was watching me. The vibe there was weird.

Challenged by another northern man to try and fit my fist in my mouth. I cant, but there was a discussion about how big my mouth was and he drunkardly asked me if I loved my boy.

Had to rescue a little English rose from the Sicilian John Malcovich (serious doppleganger moment).

Got baked in Cefalu- Le Bronzissima!!! Sun stroked

Patischerria Cappello: Settevelli is the name of the best cake ever. I had it once before in Malaysia (made by a family friend) and though I would never taste anything like it again. Until Settevelli (the seven veils). It was worth getting lost, chafing my thighs and the blisters on my feet.  I made a pilgrimage for that cake.

For the first time ever- I was early for a flight back to London

Giddy silly liezy

I think I got a mention on his twitter.



STOP IT

Still, it'll be nice to go on holiday somewhere warm, or Scotland.

Possibility

Sometimes when we're together i think that possibly, possibly we could be more than this. Then you say something that brings the reality of the situation back to what it is.

'There isn't a possibility', I keep telling myself; but you can be so good at bringing false hope. 

someone finally said it.

I feel like that everywhere I work; and whenever I cant fix them.

listening to the radio makes me feel less lonely.

i cannot imagine living alone for another year.

This is for you, oh wise one.

 The one who tells me, 'you need to spend time with happy people, people in normal relationships.'


Oh, and finding love is a matter of luck 
Oh, and unsettled lovers move from fuck to fuck 
Oh, and compare their achievements like discussing bereavements 
And compare their abrasions with romantic quotations 
Oh, as peaceful the world watches down

Late at night

When im studying and a sudden pang of heartsickness hits i wish there is there is something or someone i can hold on to before it sweeps me away and burrows a massive hole where my heart used to be.

Mekah

My mother's currently in Mecca- visiting the muslim pilgrimage site which forms one of the pillars of Islam. She's there for Umrah; the Haj is a far more complicated affair.

A comparatively simple visit, a practise run for the rites and rituals that are meant to strengthen one's faith, to be physically and spiritually closer to God. The Holy Land.

She's not explained to me why she's decided to go; we're not a family to have heart-to-hearts. We share sanitised,  PG 12 versions of our problems with Disney-happy endings. I see the tired lines around her eyes and occasionally she drops the facade when it's to heavy to bear.

'there's problems, but it'll be ok'
'im so tired but i cant sleep'

I imagine she's gone to get some respite- a break from the insanity of the daily grind. An opportunity to meditate. A chance to pray in the holiest of places.

I joke and tell my friends she's gone to pray for our souls. I sincerely hope she does.

I really want to ask her when she comes back, 'did you find what you were looking for? And what more did you find?'

Balance

This new friend will either make or break me. It will take discipline and strength of character; both of which I have none. I'll need both to sustain this.

Time and distance is the enemy. I need to make the most of time and... Not much I can do about distance. There is much going on in my life; professionally there is a lot I need to achieve and there are new comrades at work I would like to foster strong bonds with. Old friends who need love and gossip.

And then there is this- something undefined yet very comforting. I was always comfortable with lack of structure but im wary of the lack of security. It is different from anything else I've known- but for now, it's good and it works.

We have spoken about how we are good for each other- I'm helping him get over a vaguely alluded to heartbreak/nervous breakdown and he with my discomfiture with relationships. It's partially working- he's says he's sleeping better and my hair is looking amazing; I'm still as insecure about the opposite sex as I was though.

 I'll need make the most of my time- I'll need maximise work, study and exercise and home chores during the working week and on wind down on off days with friend-time. It will take planning, lots of trainline bookings and an unhealthy amount of time sleeping on trains.

Written on the train back to Ipswich after a lovely friend-time weekend

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

Here's to new beginnings

Fuck traditions

Here are some resolutions:


1. The Achievable:

1) An audit for each rotation (publications count too)
2) Pass MRCP past one
3) Get a medical job (anywhere, any job)
4) Do a 10km run
5) Kendo kyu grade
6) Visit America
7) Do driving theory


2. The Probables:

1) Lose another 20 kgs
2) Do 3 courses (neonatal resus, basic surgical skills, basic USS or the IT one)
3) Get an O&G job
4) Learn archery (there's a story behind this, but i'll tell you of my zombie apocalypse paranoia another day)
5) Work on memory skills and speed reading
6) Save 300 quid a month. Or more. No dipping in that cookie jar.
7) Get UK driving license

3. The Dreams

1) Find a man (my own, all mine. No sharing, no proxys. Sorry proxys- i love you, but a girl needs to move on)
2) Travel south america
3) Go work internationally (in O&G or Women's health....somewhere)
4) Go down to a size 14. Jeans.
5) Plan a Masters/MD for 2013

New year, new music

This is for you, occasional reader. You know who you are.

Siempre (Always) by Pablo Neruda

Facing you
I am not jealous

Come with a man
at your back,
come with a hundread men in your hair,
come with a thousand men between your bosom and your feet,
come like a river
filled with drowned men
that meets the furious sea,
the eternal foam, the weather.

Bring them all
where I wait for you:
we shall always be alone,
we shall always be, you and I,
alone upon the earth
to begin life.

Do you remember the day you fell out my window?

Pick two i.e you can't have it all, but some people have a little bit more, cos life ain't all that fair

Thanks http://illuviation.tumblr.com/post/12929803604

Yeah, it's a mess at the moment. I have avoidance issues with job applications (i'm just avoiding) and im panicking over this exam and i keep on falling asleep at 1900 and waking at 0100. I wake up confused and anxious. The depression is back in a big way. 

I smile still because i got a friend a present he adores and i think one of the guys at work is flirting with me. I don't know how to flirt back (he made a little joke yesterday about taking his shirt off for me and i gave him the classic Bananna, "what the hell are you doing?" look- which had him apologising for said joke. Considering im as crass as they come it's surprising how i pull off prim and proper. If he offers again i am gonna go for a whirl on his motorbike. He makes fun of my vintage ride.

Bungee jumping

There was this formerly fat, now slimmed down girl doing a bungee jump on TV- she was hesitating, but she decided she was going to do it.

I love what she said as she leapt off: "To making good memories and not necessarily good decisions"

Bungee jumping would be so scary. I do not have a head for heights.

Most days, i wish i was beautiful enough that it would be all that i needed to be.

I wish i wasn't always scared, anxious, cowardly and ugly. I wish i was pretty when i cry and sexy when im angry. I don't like it when the red haze takes over and all i want to do is hit something and all the chanting in the world is not gonna make the anger boiling behind my temples go away. I hate it that i blame everything on myself and i cant fix it.

I don't like saying 'i hate myself and i want to die' but sometimes it seems easier that way.

Good things can come from a keen ear in changing rooms.

And in one little moment
It all implodes

This isn't everything you are

Breathe deeply in the silence
No sudden moves

This isn't everything you are

this was gonna be a funny post till i got on the elevator and realized i lost one side of my new lily earrings and the guys at McDonalds forgot to pop my choice of sauce with my chicken strips. Grrrr

What are the odds

On my way home from work, on the last leg of the journey i have follow an underpass that runs below the railway tracks.
The crossbeams are home to pigeons hence the underpass stinks of bird poo and the road littered with squashed dead pigeons. Yuck. I usually hold my breath as i go under.
As i glide along, anticipating warmth, sleep and breaded chicken i see something plop on my right knee. The plop was audible and i (internally) jump. The bike swerves ever so slightly. Im lucky i dont get killed by saturday night speed freaks.
A large dollop of bird shit has landed on my knee. I laugh, cos this is the second time a pigeon has shat on me. What are the fucking odds? Some people consider it lucky anyway.

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

That was gonna be the post.  But then i looked in the mirror in the elevator. Fucking shit, those earrings were new! First time worn. And my chickens strips didn't have any dip! I blame McDonalds for losing my earrings- i had to take my headphones off to order. Ugh. And i have bird shit on my nice black skinnies.

A pearl

There was a very odd American man I met in Athens who said I had a lovely endearing smile. After several late night chats he showed me a massive tattoo on his abdomen. Not particularly a beautiful tattoo, it was a Persian poem, written in Arabic script. He proceeded to recite the poem- I can't remember it exactly, but something about a man travelling the world searching for a pearl only to realise at the end of his journey the pearl he was looking for was within himself.

I've been searching for the poem since.

It's ok, it's just you

Sometimes i slip and i wonder what could've happened if i didn't play the anti-friendcest card with you.

But i remind myself that this is good. More than good, it's great. I like how we are, the inappropriate conversations and honest truths (sometimes). The fact that i can be silly, frivolous and a mess; it's ok, it's just you. We won't rely on each other, won't put any stock in this. It's based on common interests and a mutual need to be not so alone.

Music courtesy of Lana Del Rey, trout pout extraordinaire, one the most stunning and gorgeous songs i've heard in a while.

Im gonna listen to Scott

Im gonna sit in the steam room after my 5km run today, come home do 2 hours of revision and then sleep.

I've had trouble sleeping. It's probably cos i've not managed to sleep in my own bed for the last two nights.

Funny story:

I found a pair of my black work trousers in the changing room at work. I was positive it was mine. I had no idea when i'd left it there. One of the nurses chuckled cos she reckons i must've gone home one day without my trousers, hence leaving it in the changing room.

Why are they always borrowed, proxy or just not right? It was nice to let someone take care of me, to give me a big hug and a kiss when they see me. It irks me that there is no one to drunk text or call to tell them that I'm ok. No one I can call guilt free to come and pick me up if I'm in trouble.

I just want somebody to bake cakes for and to lounge in bed with on hungover Sundays. I want someone to have imaginary babies with ( so I can imagine what they would look like- god forbid my kids have my looks. I need a man with good dominant genes. But they'll have my dimples. Dimples are are coded by dominat genes )

It's tough when the boys do the proxy boyfriend thing. Cos I notice what's missing. Most of the time I manage to be oblivious to the massive hole in the middle of the floor of my life but recently the crack is becoming a huge hole i cannot ignore ( ever saw the death cab for cutie video for I will follow you into the dark? Like that, just like that )

Party on a boat London edition

I haven't abandoned the blog- just have been very busy and boring.

The last 3 days have not been though!

I have done no work for my exams or home stuff, but i've had lots of fun (and good food).

Last night was a friend's 30th birthday and he had swank do on a boat going up and down the Thames- all the way from docklands to putney and finally landing near london bridge.

It was a beautiful night, clear, cool with stars. We danced and drank and laughed and had a good time. I didnt fall off the boat. I didn't get off with the birthday boy....but hey, I take my wins where I can. I was very well behaved and a lady ( i managed not to fall down during the conga line down the stairs!). Later we ended up at a friend's house where i almost got smashed but was whisked home at the right time (thanks banana!) before i started being "sick eliza". Banana has got it down to a science: it starts with-
quiet eliza,
social eliza,
tipsy eliza,
dance-y eliza
super-chatty eliza

and then descends to loud and difficult eliza and the sick eliza. Usually loud and difficult eliza is preceded by the cry of 'Shottttttssss!!!!!'

But it's been fun. There was te night before the night before where i indulged in one too many lovely cocktails by our friend martin the bartender (dodgy picture on facebook courtesy of B, i didnt do it really, it's all camera angles!) followed by yummy steaks and chips.

I have to focus on work and my gym aim of running an 8 minute mile.

The leap

The trick is to hold on to my glasses and keep my legs straight on the way down.
Breath out.....and hold.
Splutter, swim and breathe.

Realize that im alive, so very much alive.

hard truths #67

Lets not talk about the massive elephant in the room

English-ness and Melayu-ness collide to make me good at skirting around the true issue, euphemisms and saying the polite thing, veiling the truth and daggers.

Puisi and sopan santun, kak. A stiff upper lip, propriety.
A love of sarcasm and satire. My love of symmetry of form.

I would love to hear the voicemail i left a friend last night, after i pelted his window with stones to get him to stop the cowardice and answer the phone. It is difficult to be the sensible one in an impossible love-drama. I find myself chanting under my breath in a taxi at 2 am, hoping that the aura of peace and serenity would permeate into the crazed female in front of me; so beautiful, so intelligent and yet allows herself these bouts of impassioned, crazed sessions where she does and says the most stupid and hurtful things. All about a boy she claims she does not love.

Om......shanti, shanti, shanti

I got angry too. Angry that she was being unreasonable; refusing to listen to sense. Angry at the boy who was being uncaring and selfish; who will not deal with an ongoing problem.

I can almost emphatise- but really, how long is it before you learn? A lesson will repeat itself until you learn it, as my daddy used to say.

Talk, talk talk.....and fight. Different issue, same theme. Same pain. Add alcohol and it comes out as tears. I'm sure she cares and so does he. I cant even put my finger on the problem- i'd like to say their personalities are very different and do not mesh, but in truth they could be so good for each other; check and balance the extremes of each other's personalities. Maybe this is the core of their relationship. Perhaps all this shouting is just a manifestation of how much they invest in this so-called-relationship. That this is the pattern of their relationship: a swing between two extremes with relative calm in between.

Pftttt....the window pelting worked though. Thank you Pete for teaching me this wonderful method of waking (and annoying) the hell outta some one (but assuring you get attention). I said my peace on the telephone and had lovely chicken with cheese and chive sauce and chips in my living room whilst i try to block out the shouting (in the next flat).

Om......shanti, shanti, shanti

Everytime

I was drunk and sick and alone- again.

It's not fun anymore.

I will tell you about how it feels to be lonely, so lonely in a room full of friends.
And how im social awkward and lost, but you've heard it all before.

I want to change, I am changing. Slowly, trying to fix this. Maybe i'll crack it in a few months.

bad day?

Do the dizzy lizzy thing- go out get drunk, rescue the most beautiful perfect man from being mauled by an amazon and try to protect your housemate who is probably having great sex next door from rowdy drunkard friends. send them all downstairs. is the hanger rule an international thing, or am i making this up?

yeah, im eating left over chicken milanese, hating life and work.....I would throw myself off the multistorey carpark if it wasn't so cold.

Sober up crazy lizzy. Cos this aint the answer. But it's a great anaesthetic. Go numb, go cold, go calculative. Not stupid, emotional and end up alone. Pfffftttttt.....

My darling you look lovely
I've come to lay you down

Don't you worry baby
You won't feel a thing
Close your eyes
Holy Roller Novocaine

Lord's gonna get us back
I know, I know

My friend just had a baby. her name is Quratul'Ain (Annie). Can't wait to see that bubba.

This thursday night

Katy Perry Last Friday Night Thanks God is Friday from Erik Reyes on Vimeo.

Just dont lose your handbag and shoes. That spells real trouble

I love it when he calls me Ellie

Certain truths need to be told.

I cannot multitask.

I am easily stressed by multiple projects all vying for attention at the same time.

I am easily distracted by good looking dark haired men (especially those who give me pet names. Or call me babe/honey- it's ok if it's that one, only that one).

The Einstein quote about insanity being doing the same thing over and over again and expecting different results remind me that i need to do things differently if i want to achieve more. Not necessarily work harder, but work differently. I find myself making small changes, but falling back into my old habits- i forget the aim of the game too easily and dwell on the details. Im unable to compartmentalize my mind- focus on one thing, but have an awareness of other things. I think if i can achieve this focus with a wider awareness and confidence i will work better, hell; live better.

We'll see if things can change

i need a break

I need to go away for a few days- a quick escape, jump into a car and drive fast, speeding to nowhere.

I want the beach and the sea. I need a swim, in the sea, where the water is warm and blue. I need good friends, company that im not constantly trying to impress.

Melayu Klasik

stolen from http://cigaretteporn.tumblr.com

Scrubs moment

Hung over, i was walking down the connecting tunnel between the new hosp and the old one. My project just blown out the water, and a tonne of work for me to do over the weekend.

I spot Dr Boy coming in the opposite direction. He looks nice- he's wearing a shirt today (not like i've seen him shirtless, but he is usually in scrubs).

I look terrible. Hair greasy in a big bun, big glasses on (i hope he has a big glasses fetish because i always am in big glasses when i see him) and in ugly scrubs, feeling stressed out of my head and fat as an obese hippo.

I look up as we walk pass each other. He says hi. I say hi. Ah, the death of flirting.

He looks well nice, and ugh, I feel sick- wave of nausea from my hangover.

I overtake a porter pushing a bed.

"i'm so tired, can i get a ride?"

"jump on then...."

"really?! ok!"

And i jump on the bed and the porter pushes the bed along the corridor with me on it. I'm laughing away, kicking me legs, having a good giggle.

I jump off and take the back entrance to the unit. At least there's still reason to laugh.

Just like glass, with no ring

Sexy sexy made up of plexi disasters
Pushing and pulling conservative rolling
Unlike plastic, easier to see through
Just like glass with no ring
Softer and sadder you sing
Sexy sexy do your thing
Learn to be shy and then you can sting
Plexi, plexi bend don't shatter
Once your broken shape won't matter

I jog, i run, i hurt

I have been jogging for the last few weeks pretty intensely- i've been running on and off all year since august, but recently it's been 4 times a week, 3 mile jogs. My best for 3 miles is 40 minutes. On a bad day i walk the route and it's slightly less than an hour.

Slow, but considering i dont run, that's pretty decent me thinks.

And i throw in about 50 suburi and some yoga stretches this makes it to a 90 minute exercise thing. Sometimes. When im motivated and didn't smoke too much.

I kinda do do it because i wanna lose weight, but i do it more because it give me a sense of achievement i cant get from work or other aspects of my life.

But now im tired. My legs ache, my knees burn and i get calf cramps. Im soooo tired. All the time.

They say i look better for it and truth is, i feel better for all the running. I look forward to it most days- i've toned the intensity down the last few days, i've been so tired i've not been able to do much in the evenings.

I am desperate for a distraction in life- something to look forward to at the end of a long day at work that is not food, a jog or music. I need a pet. Something to love, yo. Something that would love me back (it's slightly frustrating feeling lonely in a room full of people and having only a 6 inch high soft-as-anything purple hippo named Jeffrey to cuddle).

I have no idea what this song means- but the sexy french man drinks from jars too!!!

Hurt

If it's all in my head, how am i going to fix it? What if the problem is me; that i am flawed, broken?

Cry movie

I laughed at you when you said you cried while watching shutter island. I thought my dad was a silly sap for crying during Khabi kushi Khabi gam (dont judge) and titanic.

I cried at the ending of The Japanese Wife.
It broke my heart yo.

The premise is a little cringe-worthy and improbable; but the art of enjoying a film is in immersing oneself in it and suspending belief/rational thought/sense for 2 hours.

***spoiler alert***

A man in a village in india decides to marry his pen-friend in japan. Via post. The movie is told by a narrative reading their letters, written in halting English. They can't have a proper conversation via the telephone- they struggle to understand each other's accent and he doesn't have a telephone in his house. He calls her from the local IDD centre in town. She sends him a silver ring with her name engraved on it as a wedding band and he sends her kum-kum powder and wedding bangles.

They write to each other for 17 years. They never meet. They stay loyal.

She gets cancer, he sends her vedic herbs through the post. He catches pneumonia during the monsoon and dies through lack of antibiotics. She survives chemo and in the end travels to his village- wearing a widow's white and the bangles he sent her.

Why did i well up? Cos the universe isn't fair. There is no happy ending. These two people didn't get a break. I cried for love unfulfilled, love unrequited and lack of basic medical care. People should not die from lack of antibiotics.

It's a beautiful film, well acted, story well told.

So i'm a soppy romantic at heart- you probably knew that already.

Oh dear

I hate change.

I dont deal well.

I need a brain transplant- i feel so stupid at my job.

Ok, ok. need to get act together.

I wonder, will I survive a zombie apocalypse....?

Oliver Peoples make the best ads ever. And the glasses aren't bad either.

A perfect start to a lazy weekend morning.

I have a duck to roast and accompaniment to make, parents to call and an audit to get to work on, but listening to this, i can relax for awhile.

Dreamy.

It doesn't even matter that my neck hurts like a bitch from Kendo.

that lasted a minute. im back to being sad.

Some songs sing it as it is.

Now, to find a song that describes now around me people are living the dream as i slowly die of boredoom.



anyone can tell you there’s no more road to ride
everyone will tell you there’s no place to hide
there’s no laws or rules to enchain your life
but the ones who didn’t make it,
the ones who couldn’t take it,
so glad they made it out alive
everyone loves the fun
everyone comes by

in the wind I crunch, I want to die

they can give me pills
or let me drink my fill
the heart wants to explode
far away where nobody knows

do you believe she said that?
do you believe she said that?

I said I hate myself and I want to die.

half of it is innocent
the other half is wise
the whole damn thing makes no sense
I wish I could tell you a lie
hey, come here
let me whisper in your ear

I hate myself and I want to die.

do you believe she said that?
can you believe she repeated that?
I said, I hate me myself and I
said I hate myself and I want to die

Gintama is coming back. Otaku-Lizzy, ON!

Happy!

It's nice how there are people who feel the same way. Less lonely.

i need to be in work in 15 minutes

But i have to tell you about that night.

There was drinking, there was lots of it; but i have never had no memory; absolute total blackness with no recollection of what happened.

I came home with no shoes and no handbag. I lost my iphone and my favourite lipstick and lipgloss. I lost my visa card.

My friends lost me for hours. I actually disappeared.

I have bruises i cannot account for.

This is the last time i will speak of it, because it haunts me that i lost all control. I was not myself at all. I don't remember a thing.

Today

We'll try do some sit ups

care

be efficient

less procrastination

and be a little less angry.

im learning who i am, but i really don't like her.

She's a faker.

7 deadly sins: Envy

I'm down with another bout of tonsilitis; i should really get those buggers out but i know what they do to you when you're under. Plus, im too obese for regular theater tables so until i lose weight sufficiently im gonna have to soldier on and get over these infections. Bloody immune system-get working!

But i digress from the main issue.

Envy. There's this hadith (i can't verify it, but i like it, so im gonna use it): “Avoid envy, for envy devours good deeds just as fire devours fuel.”

"You shall not covet your neighbor’s house; you shall not covet your neighbor’s wife, or male or female slave, or ox, or donkey, or anything that belongs to your neighbor."

Oh how i covet. I drown in envy- i wallow in it.

I feel happy for them, im glad that fortune smiles upon them, but God help me, i can't help but hate them, a little bit. I want what they have.

I agonise over how they have what i want, what i lack. Sometimes there is even flares of petty meaness- i am needlessly harsh; i do things to subtly lash back at the unfairness of the world. And the victims are my friends, the people i envy are the people i love.

How can someone have so much when i have so little. How things come so easy for some people- how is it that something so easy and ordinary for them is difficult and impossible for me?

What a terrible human being i must be to hate someone for their good fortune- the envy makes my soul ugly. It's stained with schadenfreude, anger and petty envy. I think all my good karma has probably gone down the drain because i live with so much hate and unhappiness.

It's a evil cycle i cant quit.

My life sucks
and
Their life rocks, kicks ass, full of fucking fireworks
and
I watch their lives
and
Green eyed monster rears its head
and
Envy makes me a bitter unhappy person
thus we are back to
My life sucks.

FML

This one's from the holy book

"And do not covet what we bestowed upon any other people. Such are temporary ornaments of this life, whereby we put them to the test. What your Lord provides for you is far better, and everlasting."

i'm a little drunk and i need you now

Fat day

Surgeons are harsh on fat people.

I have heard consultants comment that "they always get the one tonne house officer" and everyone take the piss on fatties all the time.

I can't help but think they are talking about me.

It is silly that i think im too fat and ugly to be doing surgery?

A post-drunk post or what the fuck am i doing drinking so much?

She tells me a song about unrequited love reminds her of me.

It was lots of fun last night- im up at 0930 the next day, putting totally defrosted chicken nuggets and wedges into the oven (hungover breakfast- sweet!) and nibbling on doritos and dip.

Yes it's a sunday, and that's what sundays are for- but i did the exact same thing thursday. Given, i've had the week off and have slept as much as i can sleep and do kendo and watch telly- but i haven't done anything.

Last night i was ridiculously dressed and drunk, but still together enough to fight with my housemate about the texting someone, stop the rest of the girls from drinking more (while i coasted to the bar for another one) and find random people's keys.

Actually, the plot of this post have moved off an tangent.

I want to tell about the small moments of loneliness and hopelessness i felt last night. I think it's pretty profound because at that point i having fun, and suddenly I was gripped by this overwhelming, chocking sensation of loneliness. The hopelessness came after, when i realised that this might be IT.  Work, drink, come home to my match box room and then back to work.  Throw in a random movie night with the girls. For a more melodic and eloquent description of this listen to Lily Allen's 22.

Hypothetically, if i was lying drunk somewhere and strangers were trying to call someone to get me- i wouldn't know who i would tell them to call. I wouldn't know who to call if i ended up in prison.

I kinda understand why some people i know who have successful, established careers and what seems like good lives overseas end up home.

I'll revise my plea: if you have any say in the way the universe is run, please put in a word so that this girl will be loved and looked after.

Pining

because shaz, i wish you were here for a drunkend discussion about why im pining.

Pining, it's a wierd word, innit.

Putain, im sooooo drunk, it's  a little sad the right man is not here.  And im listening to sheila on 7's berhenti berharap because that's what i should do- stop hoping.

Where is he? Why was he not fucking there? WHy?Im so angry! Angry and drunk. Bad combination.

My head is spinning. I put my sick housemate home and took  cab out again and then headed out to party. Fccking betrayal. Im such a bitch, so shoot me. Still it's not worth it- cos the right man isnt there.

Im not even entirely sure he is the right man, but he will do for now. Putain de merde de bordello. Putain! Merde!

A drunk lizzy is an honest lizzy, a horny lizzy and an angry lizzy. Like my daddy taught me, drunks and babies dont lie

If you have any say in the way the universe is run, please try and get me and this 6'3, non-medicine, non-surgery dark haired man together; and pray that he is not sleeping with his female friend who is far taller, prettier and has nicer hair than me.

Resolutions for 25th January

I will call my mother more.

I will plan. Plan my life, my holidays, my laundry.

I will wash my bras by hand. Or on a gentle wash in the machine (refer to planning laundry)

I must moisturise, daily.

I will ask for and accept help. There is more love around than you know.

I must exercise, daily.

There was a mention of the dreaded V-day coming up next month.

From my favourite anti-valentine's day website:

Be My Anti-Valentine

 

I truly fear this will be my fate. Promise that if you are my friend you'll invite me over once and awhile so i don't die of loneliness. 

Are looks everything?

My (lack of) personality has probably lost me this one. I keep on going back to it, but life is so dull i have nothing else to analyze to death.

I had this conversation with a male friend:
"so what if someone's hot? I think lots of people are hot- i don't go after them. He's just not into you."
"He's just not that into me?"
"Honey- he's not even THAT into you; he's not into you AT ALL"

Ouch. That hit a sore spot.

Happy new year

It's my friend's 30th birthday today. It's my new year.

I think CSA started the trend of celebrating a personal new year, as opposed as calendar one.

I'm not hopeful, im not optimistic. I'm depressed, again.
Will this year be better than the last- i doubt it.
Will I lose all the weight- no.
Is there any reason to go on- just 3. wait, actually it's 4. Just 4 reasons why i bother.

All i ask for is to not disappoint; myself, the 'rents and the people who depend on me. There are rules to this year, we'll plop the in the sidebar. I'll add to them as the year goes.....see how many things i can come up with.

I haven't listened to a long december in awhile.