facebook

Natalie did not sign up for a "rich husband, 2 kids, a penthouse, Porsche Cayenne, Harry Winstons, Manolos and Hermes".

Today ACSian medschool classmate said out of the blue, "Blahblahblah girls just wanna be tai tais." Which is probably true considering the classes of girls he'd grown up with. Well, you girls would know my take on the situation.

Come on! I could barely contain my disdain. And I'm not saying this because I think being a stayhome mother is a complete waste of a life -- there's absolutely nothing wrong with choosing to be a Mother to your children and sacrificing a career for that. Sacrifice being the operative. But to actively seek to marry well just for a life of comfort just reeks of lazyass hedonism.

When life becomes nothing more than a competition to see who gets the latest It bag quickest, who wears the most expensive couture, what fabulous soirees one gets invited to, how often one appears in the pages of some lame magazine, how much one raises with a "fundraiser" (some of which are little more than an excuse to throw a big party for people to wear couture to etc), it becomes small and petty and pointless.

Jim Carrey, surprisingly enough, once spouted some incredible words of wisdom. He'd been seriously depressed for some time and when he came out of depression, he said, "People should be given everything they'd ever wanted in the world so they'd realize just having all that stuff wouldn't make them happy." This need to bring on the bling is probably symptomatic of a deeper insecurity, an emptiness that one attempts to fill with immaterial stuff. Again I'd like to qualify that by saying while nice things are nice, having them at the centre of one's whole world is something else altogether.

who needs mastercard?

1) Great sleep

2) New discovery -- Kerastase Hair Mask (the only thing that's ever worked first time around)

3) Drinks and tea with the girls!

4) A Happy Mummy :)

5) If It Kills Me and other Jason Mraz Jems played roofdown

gastroenterology

Shit I can't remember what I'd wanted to talk about.

Ah yes, the state of my bedroom. It was actually depressing enough for me to chuck it out of mind. I'd go for days without going near anything except my bed. My chair was piled high with clothes, floor was flooded with paper skyscrapers (yah figuratively), table was stacked full of jewelry, dvds, gifts, testimonials, textbooks, and bits of machinery. I'd get home as late as I could, chuck my bag down, strip, take a bath and go to bed. It was seriously Getting Out Of Hand. My Stuff was sucking up all available space. BUT since this is final year (and don't get me started on the midnight panic attacks that have plagued me ohmygod), the need to get up to speed has jarred my cleanup engine into submission and well. Here we are. A partially sorted bedroom and one very allergic, itchy, runny-nosed... well-what-am-I.

I cleaned it out yesterday. Dug through the Bowels and sorted out 4 years worth of paperwork -- lecture notes, scribbled notes, case notes, the Works. Files upon files of SO-MUCH-STUFF some of it useful, some of it tossable, but all of it in need of major organization. Wish I were gifted with a Dewey-Decimal brain that could think up of ways to keep things organized -- unfortunately the extent of my organizational skills was "toss/don't toss".

Subsequently of course, skills I'd accrued from the nightmarish days in primary school where we were FORCED to file our worksheets (how very retro) kicked in, and now I am one happy, well sorted well-what-am-I.

And my bloody wardrobe. I've seriously been picking out random things and chucking them on because I can't find anything in that jungle of clothing. This -- This Giant Huge Mess Of Wearable Stuff -- has sucked the shopping libido out of me. Not that I came home with much after 2 months spent surviving the States, but this is seriously Shoporexia.

And now I've just remembered I've yet to email-thank my Gastroenterology tutor at SGH for the 2 weeks I spent with him. Shit.

henry james

"It was the coming true that was proof of the enchantment."

Just in case shit hits the fan and everything crumbles to dust, I'm holding on tight to every moment. A trip to the moon on gossamer wings...

paradigm shift

I've realized the source of my many accidents (both on and off the road) has been a result of a most unwise approach -- "when in trouble, run away -- FAST!".

I have since learnt the single most useful lesson from Andrew (spyder's guardian and my kind coach) -- "when in doubt, whatever it is, slam the brakes!" And needless to say, among the many good things that come in a porsche package, are a set of fabulous brakes that instinctively know when to toe the line.

glamourpuss

Last night, I got drunk most unglamorously and shamefully on desert wine. With my family no less! Dad's home from TW for a few days so we celebrated a little :) The nauseating headache and whingeing... thank goodness I never suffer from hangovers (alas, and hope never to!).

In my drunken stupor, I thought of emailing somebody (whom I can never decide whether or not to kick in the arse) and berating him for not ever keeping his promise to keep in touch, but to my salvation, the laptop was out of battery and I was too drunk to figure out how to work it. So sparing myself one less embarrassment. All forms of communication should be witheld from drunkards, or there should be a rule somewhere that states drunkards are not to be held accountable for the rubbish they spout/email. I'm sure many a forlorn person would then use "But I was drunk!" as an excuse for saying honest truths like "I really wanna kick you in the arse you no-good twerpy $&^*$#$!!!"

In my deep drunken sleep, I resolved many mysteries. Among them, included what should be done about my frizzy disgusting overgrown mop of hair and the reason why Uncle So-and-so disappeared for 3 days without a trace. Both of which, had left me greatly perplexed. Unfortunately, I failed to work Neurology into my brain and I think I'm pretty much screwed for tomorrow (mini test with tutor, darn).

Anyway, today I finished up my med posting at SGH (for what it was worth) in the morning, got my cleopetra cut in the afternoon (blunt with bangs), and collected ... THE SPYDER!!!

For those in the know -- I'd been waiting and Waiting and WAITING for it. It arrived on my birthday, shortly before I left for the states, and when I arrived home, because of some paperwork that still needed resolving, I'd to wait another fortnight almost before getting behind the wheel. But now, it's home at last -- makes the most amazing sound, and the carrera silver bodywork with red leather is just so freaking awesome.

Ooh phone call :) Yay!

dum dum duh dum

I know, I said I'd blog about my time in the States, but I really haven't found the energy to. I guess it'll take some time before it stops feeling painful to reminisce about what could happen only once in a really long time (if not, a lifetime -- but that I simply refuse to acknowledge!).

To put a bandaid on way overdue blogging -- here's a random thought.

I think people fall in love because when they do it's a crazy rollercoaster of nutty feelings but when they don't, they're numb (which sucks), or waiting (which is probably worse).

a big bite

So the good stuff doesn't get lost in the details, I've decided to resume blogging only post-return. It was pretty much ... Perfect. And I'll introduce you to the people who made it so, very shortly :)