heads down bottoms up
 
This new skin brings about a fresh new beginning, a change, reminding us the importance of looking at things from another perspective so that we may learn to understand and accept all that we see for not what they appear to be, but what they truly are.
Friday
burnt out
With the completion of my first clinical rotation, I feel that I should be happy. But I am finding it difficult to bring myself to feel this way. It's not because my score isn't as spectacular as previous years nor that I didn't get anything out of this clinical. I think my mood can be completely attributed to my present state: burnt out, and maybe among other things better unsaid.

I am constantly looking forward to a full day's rest and a satisfying sleep in, but flicking through my calendar and my to-do-list, it seems that chances a very slim and close to impossible in the next month. And I frown at such misfortune.

So here I am, instead of getting ready for work tonight, I am sitting in front of my asus typing away, comtemplating whether I should get ready or not. I have just awaken from an hour's nap, so tiredness is no longer an excuse for me not turning up, nor are any other excuses excusable.

I find that it's becoming a bit of a bad habit. I accept shifts that I get called up to work out of politeness and I guess, impulse to replenish some of the money in my savings account that had been used on my trip overseas. But on the actual day of the shift, I chicken out and rethink my decision and decide to call in sick. This habit of mine should be condemned.

Okay, I should go to work tonight I guess. Perhaps to let them know I won't be returning.
posted by sciurine @ 5:09 PM   0 comments
Saturday
An orchestra alive
Some music can make your hair stand on its ends. A live orchestra multiplies that by ten. The synchronised strumming of string instruments and simultaneous timing of page turning, the exaggerated display of emotions by the conductor and the silence of the thousands of people whom have travelled distances to join in and share the beauty of music is nothing short of amazing.

The real beauty of this type of music is that all is up for your own interpretation, so no matter what emotions it renders in the listener, the musicians and conductor can still be considered successful.

The Melbourne Symphony Orchestra performed tonight at the Sydney Myer Music Bowl, attracting hundreds, if not thousands of music lovers. Normally it would cost anything up to $100 to see MSO perform live for a couple of hours in an auditorium, but tonight, it was free. No wonder so many attended. The event was held outside under the stars in front of an enormous lawn where families gathered equipped with picnic rugs, gourmet food and bottles of classy red wine.

The adults lounge back in their custom made picnic chairs with a glass of red as the fortunate kids of the 21st century busy themselves with their ipods, the mumbles became chatter and soon full-volumed conversations enveloped the entire vicinity. But silence struck the moment the conductor strolled on stage taking his position on the stand. Kids were instructed firmly by their parents to sit still and any chatter or attempt of standing up were scold at. It was obvious the youngsters had only made an appearance at this event ‘cause they were made to.

Completely obivious to the sounds of real music (take note of that ipod)...


And again



Soon, the parents got comfy too...







I was utterly amazed at the fact that i spotted no smokers at all through the entire night. It was certainly not a smoke-free event, nor an alcohol-free event, but it seems that australians have finally come to the realisation that smoking is indeed bad for health. Apparently there is a 20% decline in smokers over these few years. Through statistical correlation, let's hope there will also be a decline in lung cancer admissions.
posted by sciurine @ 11:40 PM   0 comments
Friday
it's not that time of the month.
i've been particularly narky these few days. you know those times when everything just seems misplaced, when things aren't the way they're supposed to be and there doesn't seem to be a reason why? or maybe there is a very justifiable magical reason that unties all the knots, but you choose not to tell. or maybe you do, but who to?

narky. i blame it on clinics. easiest thing to blame; dead, deaf and insensitive, unlike humans who can feel, hear and be hurt. first week back into the swing of things working in a hospital, and god save me, i'm so over it. i'm over the early mornings, late nights; the need to constantly be on a watch out for questions flying your way from critical supervisors; of talking to patients who don't respond or respond inappropriately, which is of course by no means their fault; of being all alone and not having a shoulder to lean on or be heard. all in all, i'm well and truly over it and i want to scream.

the lid is closed as the liquid boils,
pressure rises, higher and higher,
it needs to be let out, soon,
a gush of steam escapes from an opening,
letting out an ear-piercing whistle,
stillness.


maybe it's just a matter of letting it all out whenever an ear is on offer. but so far, none awaits.
posted by sciurine @ 11:12 PM   2 comments
Wednesday
monty python fan, anyone?
Check it out. Hilarious quick snapshots of this not-so-original muscial out now.

http://www.montypythonsspamalot.com/

Interested, anyone?
posted by sciurine @ 7:37 PM   0 comments
Tuesday
suddenly rich
You sit quietly in a cafe, sipping your coffee, reading the mags.
A stranger comes up to you and ask you a couple of questions.
You answer them honestly.
He passes you a blank cheaque and tells you to write whatever amount you want in the spaces.
You make a joke and write $100,000.
The stranger signed it and left.
The next day, the cheaque did not bounce.
You become $100,000 richer.

True story, happened not long ago.
posted by sciurine @ 10:35 PM   0 comments
Sunday
just a fix
Have you ever realised what you think about in the process of cutting your nails? I love cutting my nails. I think of nothing but cutting them off one by one, knowing that you can repeat the process in a month’s time. Satisfying, indeed. Same goes for painting my nails.

Anyway…

I felt like a complete idiot today walking to the park, and losing my way down my local backstreets to my local park wasn’t one of them. I ran into (literally) one of my old workmates from maccas, whom I had always assumed was Vietnamese. I learn today, four years down the track, that he is actually Cambodian. What an idiot I must’ve been during those shifts when I blurted out the few random Viet words that I know to him, and he would respond with a polite nod and smile, sometimes even a laugh. Lesson learnt; never assume someone’s nationality no matter how much resemblance they bear.

It seems like a timely moment to boost my ego after reading his post. I finished off last year with a few of my maths students, thinking that that could potentially be the end of my tutoring career. But within the last week, a student of mine from last year contacted me and asked for a lesson. Then within two more days, I landed myself another two new students, apparently referred to me from external sources. It feels so good to have the upper hand and be able to decide whether to accept or refuse these needy students. *twiddles fingers* And more importantly, decide on the rate at which I would like to be paid at *more twiddling of fingers*

Next.

I wonder if I would return to my weekly swing dancing fix this year. I spent a great deal of money on weekly or even twice weekly dancing sessions last year and have only just recently realised how much that amount accumulates to over the months. But back then, it was a passion and I couldn’t do without. Now, I’m not so sure.

I haven’t danced for almost three months, and yes I miss it and I think about it every now and then, but it seems the burning passion has come to a premature end. I will certainly pay a couple of visits soon to the good old RSL dancing venue, though to make it a religious commitment is questionable. But it seems a waste to give up now. Perhaps after these few visits, the fire will burn again…

Next.

I have a love-hate relationship going on with onions. I love the taste of them on the barbie, love them grilled, fried with meat, love them in tarts, but I can't bear cutting them before hand. They are the most evil vegetables. It's like they mock everyone who wants to eat them - cut me and cry before you can eat me - style. But alleluia! Scientists have finally found a way of removing this tear-inducing enzymatic gene in the onion, but sadly, it'll be another 10-15 years before its can become a common household grocery item. But then I think, onions aren't onions anymore without the tears.
posted by sciurine @ 12:26 AM   1 comments
Friday
Massage?
Many would agree that it is often too difficult to dig out the fifty bucks of hard earned money for a half an hour worth of massage in Australia. I have a high expectation for my money’s worth. If I’m willing to fork out that yellow note, I expect a full body massage, going deep into the calves and back, ease all my neck stiffness and pain and to walk out after half an hour feeling like a complete new person. Not possible, I know.

Different story altogether in countries like India and Thailand. Massage parlours are so abundant there that competition makes the prices plummet and highly affordable for us youngsters. It is hard to pass by without doing a double take. Sometimes triple.

So it happens that I ended up paying 500 rupees (AU$15) for a full hour worth of skin care Ayurvedic massage, and that was no doubt fifteen dollars well spent. Claims that it purifies the body, restores the doshas (bodily humours) and equilibrium in the body, Ayurvedic medicine is both a well-accepted and an ethically-challenged practice today.

I specifically requested a masseuse rather than a masseur for my session, hoping to eliminate all awkwardness if there was going to be any. Being a physiotherapy student myself, it is no big deal stripping down to our under garments in the presence of strangers, but this time, even under garments weren’t allowed. I hurriedly slip them off covering all unsightly,or perhaps sightly bits and pieces, whilst the masseuse stares at you as if you are not bothered by her presence. Akwardness to the max. As I stood there bare, she approaches me and wraps a flimsy rope around my waist and tucks a fraying white see-through cloth in places the sun doesn’t shine. It’s probably an attempt to help protect what modesty their customers have left after the ordeal, but I don’t see why they even bother.

Smeared with oil from head to toe, she then begins rubbing – perhaps I should stick with the word “massaging” – my feet, legs, thighs, working her way upwards in the most synchronous and relaxing fashion. It felt like two people were touching me. A dream better off dismissed early. I closed my eyes trying desperately to zone out of my naked body being rubbed by another female, but at times, you can not resist but secretively open and squint through the slit between your eyelids, seeing if she was looking at the parts that she was rubbing. To my relief, she wasn’t. Instead she was staring at the clock hanging on the wall, probably wishing that she could turn that minute hand forwards solely with the power of her eyes. Perhaps I would feel better if she looked at me, however dangerous and uninviting eye contact may be.

The herbal oils smeared on the body are meant to help moisturise and repair damaged skin, and apparently and mysteriously enter the joints in the body and reduce its stiffness. And it did just that. Hardly wanting to move after such a wonderful rub by a fellow female, I waddled out of the parlour like some oily meat waiting to be put on the barbie.

Highly recommended ayurvedic massage, for those who are game, or just in for some naked fun. *tsk tsk*
posted by sciurine @ 10:29 PM   0 comments

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Thoughts, ...flowing slowly and gracefully, ...awakening the senses, ...keeping you up in the night, I sometimes wonder why people write. To express? To reflect? To be heard? I write, to free myself from a world of thoughts.

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