it's only been 7 hours....

....... but already i'm feeling claustrophobic!
but in a good way, of course.

mom arrived today at 6 in the evening and immediately she latched on to her "pweshus darling!!" (yours truly). with my aunt's incessant chattering, and my cousin's loud voice i felt like i was in the middle of a manchester utd versus arsenal match in trafford.

my mom and aunt nagged me about a zillion and one things, the state of my room, my shower control thingawhammy (it's slightly broken - water keeps on leaking from the shower head), my terrible diet when i'm having exams (i survive on cereal, microwaved fish, eggs, milo, sausages and baked beans), the water i drink (apparently it hasn't been filtered enough) and my labcoat!! ok, won't tell you the deal about my labcoat just yet, 'cuz if i do, you'll most probably join them and nag me too. i need you on my side now, so don't go abandoning me.

and, they're terribly old and creaky. i never realised this about 40 somethings before. i mean c'mon! pierce brosnan is in his 50's and he's jumping from helicopter to helicopter (and from bondgirl to bondgirl, but what the hey), and shooting bad guys using his fingernail! and it can't be because they're women and they're more fragile (because women are so NOT!) - because look at angelina jolie, she's around my aunt's age (i think), and she's still digging up tombs like there's no tomorrow! so when i hear them go "eh, let's take bus back lah, so far" when it's only another 10 more minutes back to my hall on foot, i feel like i'm walking with grannies.

now, they're all asleep and although i'm terribly terribly tired, I CAN'T SLEEP!

why?




my mom's snoring.

so now, i've made up my mind.

if my future husband ever snores, either he sleeps in another room, or it's "byebye marriage!" and "hello divorce!!"

sleeping is better than having sex.
or having bratty kids.
or having a joint account so that you can work 12 hours on an a&e shift for your husband to take out three quarters of it to spend on his car/big screen tv/mistress's la perla lingerie.

as someone who sleeps an average of 10 to 12 hours a day, i know how good it is to wake up from a long nap and stretch. it's so good, it has to be better than 5 minutes worth of tongue-wrestling and premature ejaculation.

but i might change my mind if i get a lover as great as lex the sex bomb. noone can be that bald and not have truckloads of testosterone*.

i know mr rosenbaum shaved his full head of hair, but it takes a man who has enough guts to do it. michael's just holding off the marriage until i'm done with my medical degree - it's not great to get married and sit for the unseen case/attend pbl/go ward rounding the next day.

*testosterone causes your hairline to recede. of course, genetics do play a part in male pattern baldness.

funny chicken dancing at 5.00pm @ the academy today!

yep, that's when it all ends.
i can't claim to be terribly prepared.
in fact, i think i'm at the lower bit of the normal curve (if readiness to slew the exam dragon did, in fact, correlate to a normal distribution).
la-la-la..... beyond the point of caring when my mommy will be here tomorrow!!!
i just hope she doesn't use me as her bolster - i HATE it when people do that.
it suffocates me; i feel terribly claustrophobic.
oh, and i hope she doesn't snore.
but i know she will. :on another note, many have asked me what i'll be doing after the exams - clubbing? general painting of manchester city using bright crimson colours?
my answer is "uuhh... no."
what i'd REALLY be doing:

• getting boxes from the local chinese supermarket so i can pack up my books/notes/general med rubbish that will serve no purpose during my summer hols - wahey!
• going to town to stock up on FOOD (i have been existing on a diet of microwaved fish, eggs, baked beans and cereal), and to buy general cleaning appliances
• usage of general cleaning appliances to clean up room (not looking forward to this)
• laundry - the basket is fu-ull!
• SLEEEEPPPPPPPPPPINGGGG!

mmm... if freedom had a taste, it would taste of thai food. or prawn mee. or cincau. or nasi lemak. or a 5000 calorific chocolate icecream dessert with.... *starts tearing hair out*

break from last minute studying

while frantically flipping through notes in preparation for the cases on monday, i came across this:

"host defences against viruses - ....... natural killer cells (NK cells) can target virally infected cells; this is called the 'mother turkey' strategy (kill everything that doesn't sound like a baby turkey)".

omg, i started giggling like a stuck pig.
is it just me, or does mother turkey sound like a slightly elegant swear word?

blessings.

when my friends complained about their parents back in high school, i would roll my eyes and go "i so know what you mean."
i had curfews (not that i acted all cinderella-esque anyway), an allowance that was grudgingly meted out at the beginning of each month (i hoarded it only to splash out on one very expensive toy) and frequent screaming matches about who was really in charge.

"it's my life and i can do whatever i want with it!"
"as long as you're under this roof you will do as you're told."
"if i want to prostitute myself you can't stop me! *sticks tongue out*"
"i'm your mother, i can pimp you if i am so inclined."

and on it went.

now, with the hindsight of someone who's "all grown up and in university" - chehwah! - i look back on those moments fondly and acknowledge my pestilence.
okaylah, i admit it, i was a brat.

now, as i forage my way into the big bad world full of big bad sugar daddies waiting to exploit any sweet young thang that happens to come around the corner, i realise how much my parents have given up when they made a conscious responsibility to have kids.

of course, i give them grief about that too.

when i'm being very trying and my mom's nerves are about to snap, my last and best defense is: "well, you committed yourself when you decided to have me, so you'll have to stick with all the crap i do that drives you up the wall - so there! you had the choice to abort didn't you? and you can't exactly throw me away now, since i am, ultimately, your biggest walking, talking investment!"

hah.

statement above usually renders mom and dad speechless, but don't try this at home kiddies, you may not have parents as patient (or as incapable of making smart witty comebacks) as mine.

yeah so, back to the point.

when people count their blessings, they rarely count their parents. i mean sure, they count in their family, along with their pdas, mac computers, apple ipods, prada bags, jimmy choos, blah blah.
but seriously, who exists to give you your pda, your mac, your ipod?
if you work for your money, i salute you, but who brought you up and gave you a decent education so that you'd be able to write a decent cv worthy of employment?
and if you're one of the people who have nothing except their looks, where do you think you got your gene pool from anyway?
if you have neither the looks nor the intelligence, then you wouldn't be reading this, so either way i still win.

it's the little - and the big - things that matter.
and i really do owe my parents everything.
when friends tell me they admire my humour/wit/ability to write/ability to play the piano/ability to snort while scratching the blister on my big toe - where do you think i got those abilities from?
my mom taught me how to read, and she has a whack sense of humour, so no surprises there.
money for my expenditure comes from my dad's pocket.
and if my mom weren't there to keep the accounts in order - because men make the worst accountants unless they are really women trapped in men's bodies - i wouldn't have crisp bills nestling safely in my wallet every month.
my mom forced me to go for piano lessons - okay, i did want to go for them, but later on when my interest waned, she threw a hissy fit and demanded that i see those lessons through, along with a whole lot of other crap lessons i was forced to attend:

• ballet - my, what a farce..... imagine a 7 year old in a class of 3 year olds, landing heavily on her foot - because, that's what feet are meant for - when the rest of the toddlers in the class pirouette and just about execute every damn ballet move in the book without causing the floorboards to thump. later - and i remember this very vividly - the ballet instructor takes my mom to the side and says "i don't think hsiu lye has the potential to be a ballerina, but it would help improve her bow-legged stature". ladies and gentlemen, behold the art of delivering 2 insults in 1 sentence.
• those aloha counting classes - i can't remember what they were for. it was during the "oh my kid is smarter than yours because he can count on his fingers and multiply 6 digits mentally without using the calculator" rage. my mom is prone to the typical "am i not doing enough to nurture my child?" kind of things, hence the damn classes. all i've managed to learn is to use my 10 fingers to count up to 99, subtract and add up to 99 and erm... that's it.
• yamaha organ lessons - man i hated these. i used to beg my mom to let me skip them. we'd be in the car, 15 minutes away from the centre, then i'd fake a stomach ache or go all weepy because i hadn't done my improvisation homework or practiced enough hours. then i'd play on my mom's all so tender heartstrings by saying "how could you do this to me?!?! you know julius chee (the yamaha teacher) hates me and he'll just make me stand outside!! we're wasting money anyway, i'm not going to pay to stand outside, we might as well go eat a nice dinner!" i kid you not, i was that manipulative. haha. and we usually DID go for dinner. *smirk*
• mandarin classes - these were a joke! i went for them solely to show off my calligraphy (not that it was that great, but teachers ooh-ahh over ugly handwriting just to encourage them young 'uns) and to collect lion king stickers. so now, all i have to show for my mom's money is the ability to write my name and the numbers 1 to 10 in chinese, and a whole album full of timon and pumbaa's.
• swimming classes - i love swimming! i actually have to lick my mom's feet for this; she has a phobia of water ever since she nearly drowned in her childhood, and she didn't want to pass it on. seeing me try and float (very well, i might add) prompted her to engage a swimming instructor, uncle cheah. i love him, he's the best! and i swim like a duck now but yeah, i need to catch my breath every lap or so - i blame it on the acquisition of the love handles.

oh this post is long.

back to slaving over the medical books.

will continue tales of my childhood when i'm in the mood next week.

p/s: i just read the post and it seems to end rather abruptly without any reference to the title. so, in the tradition of writing a good bm rumusan, i conclude that - my parents are my blessings. *ta-dah*!

to all my readers

heck, i know this blog doesn't garner much attention in this blogosphere, but i'm feeling overwhelmed by work and on the verge of turning schizophrenic.

am desperately in need of a good laugh, so if you would be so kind as to drop a joke, a dirty limerick or an idiot gag of any kind, leave it here.

p/s: anyone can comment, you don't have to be a blogger member - i've twirled the setting knobs of this bad blog.

things on my desk right now (inpo)...

1. my laptop with the internet on and the music blasting
2. vaseline petroleum jelly pocket sized lip therapy (with aloe vera)
3. desk lamp
4. unwashed bowl with tomato stains and fork
5. medical dictionary
6. isabel allende's daughter of fortune
7. cdrw containing season 4 episode 21 smallville
8. my lg phone
9. a notepad with the words "don't mess with me; i'm a medical student!" on top
10. an empty toilet roll
11. spoon
12. an assorted variety of pens, pencils, highlighters and erasers
13. starbucks cup containing shtuff
14. ikea glass containing stationery and scissors
15. blank cdrs
16. sainsbury's raspberry crisp cereal box
17. an envelope containing erm... mail and important papers i have yet to read
18. bills
19. more bills
20. receipts
21. postcards
22. exam timetable
23. understanding immunology by peter wood
24. bank cards, student ids, train tickets
25. a shirt (eh?)
26. 3 pencilcases
27. stacks of paper
28. an empty cup
29. mineral water bottle
30. papers strewn all over - and i do mean ALL over
31. martini's fundamentals of anatomy and physiology
32. underwood's general and systemic pathology
33. and like a million other bits and bobs besides

I NEED TO CLEAN MY ROOM!!!!!!!!!!!!

tabulate this.

fees for 1st year: £ 10, 100
fees for 2nd year: £ 10, 200
accommodation fees for 1st year: £ 3, 700 (catered)
accommodation fees for 2nd year: £ 3, 200 (self catered)
living expenses for 1st year: £ 2, 000
living expenses for 2nd year: £ 3, 000
miscellaneous expenditure for both years: £ 3, 000 (this includes transport, photocopying, internet, medical books, bills, holidays, etcetera)

so, adding up we get a grand total of £ 35, 200.
and at today's exchange rate of RM 7.12358 to 1 GBP, we end up with RM 250, 750.016.

point of this?

if you're willing to pay this amount for my FIRST TWO years of medicine - let's not even talk about the 3rd, 4th and 5th years because my tuition fees literally double - then i will be more than willing to let you monopolise my time. all you have to do is send me a cheque or a bank draft that won't bounce and i will greet you with a grin, a flower behind my ear, a glass of sangria in my left hand and a bowl of prawn mee in my right.

if, however, you can't, then you can jolly well put up with my pre-exam moods. you don't need to. you don't even have to, in fact.

but keep in mind that barring the times when i'm in my pre-exam moods, i have willingly listened to you ramble on. and, shoot me if i'm wrong about this, but i don't believe i have ever unloaded any guy/breakup problems on you so far (besides the occasional whining about my single status). okay, so fine, i'd have to have been in a relationship to break up in the first place, but that isn't what i'm trying to get at. all i ask is that in exchange, you leave me alone when i'm stressed, because if you don't, i'm liable to bite your head off, and if i do bite your head off, i'm sorry but i feel i have given you enough warning. nobody can be miss bring-it-on 24/7 because humans weren't made that way.

besides, my parents pay RM 250, 750.016 AND they listen to me bitch endlessly and i do bite my mom's head off. my dad is the smart one who doesn't talk to me during my exam period because he knows me well enough. my mom doesn't have any choice because i demand for her to pander to my needs.

for now, the finals are first priority. if you're willing to invest a potential 1 million on a horse when you have less than one quarter that amount in the bank, how would you feel if that horse failed to qualify for the preliminary heats?

end of story.

more fool me.

occasionally i feel life is a joke.
for most of us.
for me.

my life's a joke.
where do i go from here?
do i even have a map?

i scrutinise my life and i wonder who i turned out to be.
whether i'm my own person, strong enough to admit that sometimes i'm lonely and need assurance.
the world's population..... has to exceed 2 billion.... errmm... right?
(don't shoot me, i'm terrible when it comes to geography and the like.)
and i'm one mere speck.
when i go, would i be able to say on my deathbed that i've done something that has made my entire life worth living?
worth dying for?

when i was a child, i would dream of the great things i would accomplish when i was old enough; wise enough.
back then, the only thing that was hindering me was my age.
one minute i was dreaming of becoming a world renowned surgeon, able to help people and alleviate their suffering.
the next minute, i'd dream of being a marine biologist, dancing underwater with the dolphins.
i dreamt of being a wildlife photographer, a vet, a social/charity worker, an aid worker (you know, trained medics who volunteer to go to war torn countries or the scene of a natural disaster).
sorry mom, i never dreamt of being an accountant.

and where am i now?
what have i accomplished?
is it the big gestures that matter or the little things in life?
and have i done any big gestures?
or performed any little deeds that have made subtle differences in others' lives?

increasingly, i feel life is too short.

i might die tomorrow, and the last thing i'd be remembered for would be polishing off the ben & jerry's in the freezer, or sleeping on my bed.

i want to save the world.

but first i have to wake up when the alarm rings.

put down the spoon, hsiu lye.