Juvenile Poetry on a Shopping Spree

Juvenile Poetry on a Shopping Spree

Saturday, 31.03.2007. 0219 hours.

Shopping and having iced chocolate at Dome,
Though I have a full wardrobe sitting at home.

People constantly wonder why I bother,
I always buy the same things, over and over.

Vicious cycle, similar cut,
And I wonder why I'm stuck in a rut.

I choose fashion over style,
What I get is a dose of bile.

I make a mad dash for the latest bandwagon 'thing',
I flounce and prance and think it's so the 'Bling!'

The colours stun, but the cut does not,
I throw it on and call it hot!

I talk the talk, I walk the walk,
While inside, I'm fragile like chalk.

The grey of the piece obviously don't flatter,
Yet I simply refuse to choose something better.

I care not for taste, I care not for class,
Does it surprise you my choice is so crass?

About time I stopped this catwalk disaster,
Lest I be the next annual source of laughter.

**Performs designer bow and exaunts to: 'I'm too sexxxyyyy.....'**

Nostalgia and a Former Student

Nostalgia and a Former Student

Saturday, 31.03.2007. 0130hours.

A former student of mine is gonna go to Columbia to do some goodness-knows-what engineering or other (sorry, Manda, it's just totally beyond my biological ken) and I just found out today when she told me to go read her blog =) Well.... Congrats, Manda! Very well done.

I'm old. SOOOOOOOooooooo OLD. When I taught her, I was a fresh-faced 20 year old just out of Form 6. They thought I looked 16. They knew my friends, or acquaintances from my batch. So-and-so's brother. So-and-so's sister.

Now she's entering uni. And I'm old. Now I know why I don't want to be a teacher. You're reminded annually of how old you are.

I would never have thought I'd be where I am, would've seen what I have, would've gone through the things I've gone through. Would've held on so long. Or lost so much. Would've been here now. Right here. Right now. Would've been so blessed. Would've been so hurt.

I could never imagine.

I've grown so much, so quickly. I am no longer the fresh-faced Ms. *****. Could never go back to that.

How things have changed. And yet how they've stayed the same.

Was it worth it? The steep, painful, pivotal learning curve since 2001? I hope so. Dare I think so? YES.

2 years from now, I'd be making this very selfsame assessment of how I am now.

Everything happens for a reason. It has to.

I have to stop mourning, and start living. Relapses are common, but the effort to overcome it shouldn't be futile.

Life is after all, precious. And time is so short. And unlike Agent 007, I only have one shot at it =). Life is unfair, too, but so's a lot of the best things in life.

p/s: Love ya, Manda! Congrats! Your Form 1 BM teacher who loves men with great bods is awfully proud of you! Hugs!!

p/p/s: No angpaos for you and 1A1 2001 (if you bring the truckload of kiddos) when you visit unless you find me an able-bodied Yankee hunk to marry :P and have dark-haired blue-eyed cherubs with. No blonds, thank you. :D Cikgu tak minat budaya kuning... Hehe....

Endorsement

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Growing Up and KB

Growing Up, Things and KB

Monday, 26.03.2007. 2138 hours.

The only thing, I find, that's good about growing up and growing old is, if one can afford it, sophistication.

And the graciousness it affords you. Which is why I find it double the tragedy, if an older person has not the graciousness, to forgive the follies of youth.

That is the luxury of maturity.

**
I visited KB on Friday. It's a sleepy, quaint town. The people are extremely laid-back, they seem to take everything easy.

It was a Friday, though, and being the Bandar Raya Islam that it is, everything was shut down. Nothing appears to be open. There goes my chance for 'nasi dagang' or 'nasi daghe' as the locals call it, or 'nasi kerabu'. *sniffs*

Oh well, I managed to buy some kain batik and made me a nyonya kebaya... with a kebaya top made of authentic kain kasa rubia. Not sure if I was being slaughtered for the RM100 it cost me for a set, but I liked it.

White top with colourful embroidery, black and white batik sarong of polyester. And another green cotton batik sarong for RM7 :) Tailoring would not cost me more than RM50. Which is half the KL price for nyonya kebaya tailoring. CHUH!

Tracy and my Turtle friend has been harping for me to get a camphone. The former, cos, well, she's a techie geek, and she just wants to go camphone shopping with me (some things NEVER change) so she can go all starry-eyed and drooly. Whilst the latter wants me to get that so I could take pics of my HAWT chick friends for him to check out in the privacy of his shell. Cheh! :P

But anyway, I figured it might be high time I upgraded myself and be a little more tech-savvy and get me a camphone. We'll see. I can see some of my blogger friends cheering now cos it'll also mean pics/ photo-blogging. WAHAHA!! Unfortunately, dears, for me, blogging is more of an online journal than a photo album, so nemesis-on-fire's format will not really change with that decision.

I give myself 3 months to get that phone. I just MIGHT opt for a digicam or scuba-diving lessons instead :P Or a guitar, and guitaar lessons with that cute boy I saw in Midvalley ;) He's got that tortured artist look I kinda fancy right now... Hmmmm :P

Btw, I'm liking my job. Long, inconsistent hours sometimes, but interesting. How odd, since it has nothing to do with my chosen field of study. Does this mean my palmist friend is right, and in my early 30s I'll be carrying several jobs at once?

I don't know... She also said I'd marry at 29.....

TAGGED!!

TAGGED!!

Been too busy to visit other ppl's blog, but anyway, just found out i was tagged by Yerdeh.

My weirdness in 6 forms.... (ARE U SURE U WANNA KNOW?)

1) I am weird. 'Nuff said. Ask any of my friends, they'd tell u. My close friends would use to just say my name as being an explanation for my weirdness in itself.

2) I couldn't tell if a guy fancied me for nuts. Maybe I'm better now. But I still don't take myself seriously enough to bother finding out. Buddy syndrome, some call it. I attribute it to a lifetime of having guys around me. From cuzzies to friends. Some say a man's way of saying he fancies a girl is plenty of good natured teasing. Well, hell, I'm pretty sure none of my much older cuzzies fancy me. So there.

3) I talk to myself. I perform soliloquys in my own head to work through my problems/ issues/ etc. to obtain a solution. And quite often I do. I think I'm schizo, but anyway.

4) I was given a cactus in uni by a friend. I was in 2nd year. He bought it for me at the Pesta Konvo. He said it was the one plant that personified me. Reason: It's thorny. Anyway, I was staying in a single room, and I mostly kept to myself, so to work through my shit and all (RE.: 3)), I talked to it. It died by 6th sem (Final year). Hmmmm.....


5) In 6th Form, the guys equated girls to Cars and Fishes. My guy friends confessed this to me. I don't know what car they considered me to be, but I was called a 'seahorse'. Reason: I live in deep waters, and am hard to catch. Not many fishermen would look for seahorses. My take? Well, suckers, seahorses are fucking pricey, and have medicinal properties, too. MUAHAHAHAA.... Oh, and years later, I forgot who went to Langkawi and got me a keychain made of shell in the shape of a seahorse. Can't quite remember who, but I know for damn sure the person doesn't know this little story. When I received it, I burst out laughing :)

6) I ate 2 Burger King Whopper Burgers (think it was set, too) in one sitting. I have witnesses. They still talk about it to this day. You wonder why they call me MAMAM munsta? :D In first year, I ate two plates of Nasi Goreng Kampung. In 4th college's canteen. I polished a plate, sat a while, considered the fact that I was hungry still, got up, and got me another plate. The group of boys (who were my collegemates) sitting at the table next to mine stared. After that, they went (in Mandarin): WAHHHH, you eat a LOT, hor? Me: Yup. Hungry. Oh, btw, reason I ate the same thing was cos all the other food at that godforsaken place was damn near inedible. It was the nicest thing on the menu.

7) Lots more weird stories. Just ask my buddies. Think Brenda blogged about some of my eccentricities before :P Need not repeat it here.

6 people I tag:

a) http://brendalai.blogspot.com/ (since u so free at work :P)
b) http://sarahsmalady.blogspot.com/ (I DON'T CARE! Med student or no! :D)
c) http://deranged_idiot.livejournal.com/ (U TOO. Take time off from ur horrible essays and do this :) U was supposed to visit me :P)
d) http://lettrespourmoi.multiply.com/ (tag tag tag... lalalala...)
e) http://wombaticon.blogspot.com/ (play this new game, dude. Stop the boardgames awhile :D)
f) http://timmit.multiply.com/ (I is EVIL. No new photos, no new posts. SO bloody POST!)

Just in case Miao is free, I want this just-a-tad-skanky self-proclaimed Malaysian Bridget Jones to do this, too :)
g) http://dementedkat.blogspot.com/ (MUAXXX... we go holiday soon, k? Don't shoot anyone out of stress yet. We'll turn Manukan Island on its head with white bikinis and all :P Must put that white bikini I got to good use ;))

**Each player of this game starts off by giving 6 weird things about themselves. People who get tagged need to write in the blog of their own 6 weird thing as well as state the rules clearly. In the end you need to choose 6 ppl to be tagged and list their names. After you do that , leave them each a comment letting them know you tagged them and to read your blog.

what hurts the most

what hurts the most?

what hurts the most?
what is it that i mourn for?
it's the loss of innocence that i mourn
what was taken so rudely from me
with little tenderness
and no regard for how i'd feel
that's what i mourn
that's what hurts the most.

how else can i express it?
words aren't enough at all

the fever

the fever

been sick these past few days.

woke up last night sweating, in a feverish stupor. disoriented. with a hollow feeling in my chest.

i should have gotten over him by now. why the dreams now? i thought i had put him out of my mind.

and i think i have a certain amount of success with that. conscious, contrived effort to push memories out.

there are things i've forgotten. things i used to remember without much effort which i've now forgotten.

maybe it's working...

then why? so many months, with some success, and suddenly a relapse. it's such a blow.

it's a sucker punch to my gut.

it makes me wonder whether i could look at him if i meet him somewhere by chance someday.

not yet. i don't think i could, as yet.

i hope he never finds out what he did to me. what he still does.

i don't want him to ever know.

let him always think of me as cold and sharp.

better that than this. this humiliates me.

it cuts too deep. it still cuts too deep.

opposite attraction

opposite attraction

lettrespourmoi wrote about this. She wonders if opposites do attract, and if the attraction lasts long enough to work.

My take?

I think:

Opposites DO attract, but like must marry like or there shall be no happiness.

Reason being:

You need enough differences so you don't get bored with each other after awhile. The appeal of barnacle-clinging only lasts SO long.

Each needs to develop interests apart and independent of each other to add more value into the relationship and to keep the spark alive.

Each partner would need to learn from each other. And why not? We learn new things everyday. Who better to learn from than someone you cherish and care about? Than the person you wake up with every morning, and go to bed with each night?

If both partners do everything together all the time, you'd learn nothing new from each other. And you'd get terribly bored.

The human attention span, unlike diamonds, isn't forever.

That's when you start seeking entertainment outside.

But you need enough similarities at core level to understand where the other is coming from, and to connect with each other.

Too different, and you won't know what the other is talking about.

Just look at the animal kingdom, and you won't find a horse mating with a rabbit. Although both are, by human definition, associated with sex. 'Hung like a horse, fuck like rabbits. '

If you live in two different dimensions, and share nothing in common, apart from, maybe, good looks, or not-so-good looks, how are you going to connect with each other on an emotional level? I'm not talking about the obvious.

Sex is sex, emotional connection is another thing altogether. The sex will fade, and what's there left after that's gone?

What I think is that one has to strike a healthy balance between the two. After all, moderation is always the key.

ARGH!!

ARGH!!

It's been quite a lousy morning thus far.

First, I couldn't sleep last night. Then it rained cows and buffaloes... which continued to the morning. Rain like that at night is lovely, or on a lazy Sunday morning. It's even better if you have someone to share it with. Hot tea and cuddles. But I don't. And on a work morning, with no transportation? It fucking SUX, man.

Then, when I finally dragged myself out of bed, all groggy and set for work, the heater fucked up on me. WTF?! I had to set and reset it 5 times to get it working again. *groan...* The minutes ticked by quickly.

Walking to the LRT station, and again, there were horny guys (THAT early on a Tuesday morning.... I wanted to strangle all of 'em) giving me their usual whatchamacallit. Gah...! Dudes, I don't care. I'm not ur honey, and u chose a really lousy day to make passes >:(

I nearly missed the train. Thank God I didn't.

My shoe broke while walking from the station to work :( One of my favourite pairs. The one given to me 'cos I was a good girl. When I WAS a good girl. Now THAT really sucks. I had to walk at a funny, painful angle. Now what? I dunno. I hope there's a cobbler around somewhere. Please, the Powers That Be, don't fuck around with me today.

Life

Life

Life. It's all about choices.

How do I know I'm making the right ones?

Is this the right job for me? Is he worth spending my time with? Should I continue what I've started, or should I just stop?

They say everything happens for a reason.
Does it? What's the point? What purpose could it possibly serve?

I think I'm burning out.

Perhaps I should stop fighting and start drifting. Would I have it easier if I did? Easy sounds so tempting right now.

High-risk females

High risk females

I find the political reaction to this issue amazing. Really, you know, if you don't want to hear the answers, then don't ask the question.

What did the Selangor government expect, asking for a report on sexual prevalence among high-risk female secondary school students?

What about MALE secondary school students, then? Why the sexism? But I digress.

Instead of trying to find focussed, effective, positive measures to handle/ rectify such moral decadence, they are arguing about the methodology of the survey, it's limitations, or whether it is a measure of the cross-section of Malaysian youths.

What does Nemesis say?
What a bloody waste of time.

Don't do a survey if you don't like the possible outcome.

Really now. I think Malaysian holier-than-thou attitude is causing our country to regress rather than progress. A far more shocking survey was recently conducted in Britain, the results of which shows that Briton youths have sex without much knowledge of the consequences of sex. And it's not private knowledge that Britons have sex young.

No, I am not advocating having sex at a young age, I am saying that such surveys are meant to be taken more positively. It goes to show that you can't repress either information, technology or biology.

Did Malaysia really think that our youths are purer than snow? When I was a teacher in an all-girls' school, I have had a 14-year-old student who had had an abortion 3 times. Her boyfriend was much older, and obviously both were very horny. That was in 2001. We turn a blind eye to adolescent deliquency, and especially sexual and reproductive health issues. We pretend it's not happening in this country. We hush any report, or any forum on such issues, taking a ridiculous religious bent.

Oh My God... see where it's taking us? Our youths have no idea how ot deal with sexual emotions in a mature and positive way. Women, naturally being viewed in a more negative light in this country, become victims of passion. Their own, as well as that of men.

Yes, religion has plenty to say about sex. But sexual education is equally important in a world where biology meets religion and career development. Women are getting married later, having babies even later, but having sex earlier. And why not? What with rising toll and petrol prices, and the inflation that ensues such hikes, babies are expensive to bring up.

How 2 people want to live their lives is really up to them. What I want to say is: Allow our youths the benefit of the doubt that they have enough Intelligence to make INFORMED decisions. Give them the facts. Give them the moral bent, the pros and cons of carnal pleasures, the ways to protect themselves. Malaysian youths might surprise you yet.

I had a doctor who told me: I have 3 sons. I tell them about sex from an early age. But I also tell them, "That's someone's daughter you're playing around with. Make sure both of you know what you're doing. And I'd rather you do things at home, than in some obscure place where you might get robbed and murdered. God gave you a brain. Use it." So far, my sons have yet to disappoint me.

THAT is precisely what I meant.

Isn't that so much better than moral policing and constantly spying on fellow Malaysians for the unholy glee of catching them doing something wrong?

Grow up. There's a lot of ugliness out there. How you handle them is what makes it beautiful.

Work and Others

Work and Others

Work

...is something I do now only because I get bored staring at four walls.

...I shan't say anything more.

Others

I don't understand why...

The men sitting by the pet 'hospital' by the roadside has to whistle and make funny noises each time I walk by, when I've been walking by everyday now.

And then one day one of them says:

Hello, Chinese girl, how are you, baby?

Me: (to self) Whhhaaaaa? (nods and walks fast fast away)

I shop when I'm not happy.

I am NOT happy.

I shopped. Bought me lace knickers at cheap price. Well, it was a warehouse sale. Well, it was Victoria's Secret. Well, I do need new knickers.

But.... it's 2 minutes of pleasure.

And I'd feel guilty the rest of the month.

Like something else in my life now.

So why can't I just bloody stop?

'Cos it's soooo tempting. 'Cos it feels so good whilst the 2 minutes last. 'Cos I like it so. And cos I'm such a sucker.

And my gawd, but it was pretty....

Somebody spank me...

I've been a bad girl this month.

And my pay ain't even in yet....

Chinese New Year

Chinese New Year

Spent it thinking. And missing home.

I miss:

1) My family. The family gatherings at my house, though Dad's one of the younger sons. The raucous laughter at the dinner table, the gambling, the teasing, the fussing over food.

2) My friends. Geez, I haven't met them for ages.

3) The food. Need I say more? Fried prawns. Angzhao pork. Stewed pork trotters in black soysauce. Steamed fish Teochew style. Stewed duck in spices. Vegetables cooked just right. And much much more. Dammit.

4) The smell of gunpowder. Firecrackers, man. Ask my friend Jo about where to get the longest firecrackers, and he'd tell ya. Hehehe.... It's Kuching. What's CNY without the firecrackers?

5) The visiting. Last year when I stopped, we'd done 13 houses from 10-4. I wonder what's this year's record? :P

I MISS CNY. I miss home. This is the FIRST time since 2001 that I've ever felt homesick. Shit....

An Old Post-Of Trainwrecks and Damage Control

An Old Post-Of Trainwrecks and Damage Control

This is an old post. Been wondering if I should put this up. I figure now, why the hell not. It's not gonna make any difference anyhow. Due to recent developments, it's slighly updated now.

It's all a matter of avoidance.

I pretend nothing's going on, nothing's different, and so does he.

Except I know it's not gonna work. It's not gonna go away.

The hurt's not gonna get any less. In fact, it's probably gonna get even worse.

I know. How'd I know? 'Cos I've had a string of that.

He's afraid of making things worse than it already is. How could things get any worse, really?

Letting things go on as they are. How could things get any better? What purpose could it possibly serve?

I honestly don't see a happy ending all around anywhere along the time frame if things stay as they are. I wonder if he does. If he does, I'd really like his imagination. Because I really don't.

I don't see things getting better. Or settling itself. What I see, is more than one or two parties getting extremely hurt. I'm trying to figure out what to do about that, but I can't see a cut-and-dried solution.

What's a girl to do when sentiments and emotions get in the way of logic and detachment? When logic and detachment is precisely what I need right now.

I shouldn't have let it get this far.

I should've stopped it when I could.

'Cept there were times when I was caught by surprise. But blistering intensity is still no excuse. Shoulda-woulda-coulda. It matters not who started what. I should've stopped anyway. I know men. Men wouldn't let go unless there's something better, or they're forced to. Instance, if Ange hadn't come onto the scene, do you think Brad would've left Jen? You don't leave a good thing, unless the good thing leaves you, or you get something better. Men act that way. Boys can't be expected to do any better.

Mea culpa. Mea maxima culpa. But what could regret possibly serve now? What's done is done. Regret is a waste of time.

What I want to know now is: How do I stop the train from wrecking itself now? Or at least, how do I minimise the damage that I know would occur?

I see just one way. I know he'd be hurt. Hell, I'm already hurtin'. I'm not sure he knows it. I could only guess that he is, too. But what choice do I have when it comes to damage control? I wish it needn't have come to that. But it has to.

I wouldn't force someone to do something s/he wouldn't want to do. Because the outcome would be half-arsed. But I wouldn't be forced to stay in a situation I know would cause everything to fall apart as well. Not if I can help it.

Not if I have a choice. And I do.

I can only control ME. And what I DO. And SEE. And FEEL. And TASTE. And HEAR.

Everything and everyone else matters not here. It's inconsequential.

It's cold. But it has to be done.

He says I must respect his decision. Even if it takes forever to. Very well. Then he must respect mine. Even if it takes a nanosecond to. And this wasn't made in a nanosecond. It's robbed me of my peace of mind many a night.

He can live his life any way he wants to. It's his life. Whether I like it or not. I can't do anything about it, and I won't. But this is My life, too. And it affects me. And I'll live it the way I want to. Whether he likes it or not. Too bad. I was hoping we'd come to a compromise, but I guess not.

There's always a choice. Always. Even if it's between two evils. So I'll just have to choose the lesser of two evils. Which means I've got to cut my losses. And leave.

Taken in overall context, whatever's been said, or done, was never quite right-never quite healthy. Never quite enough.

Oh, it was sweet. For awhile. It's like something that's sweet at the start, and you think it's wonderful, until it leaves a bitter aftertaste in your mouth.

Tell me: What choice do I have? How else can I stop a disaster from happening?

Hard as it may be to believe, but I do want him to be happy. I cannot make him happy. Neither of us seem to allow it. And I cannot allow myself to stay. I will not make promises I cannot keep. That's the one thing I will not do, sinful Jezebel that I am. Letting this drag on and on isn't going to change a thing. What purpose could it possibly serve anyone anyway?

I cannot stay. I no longer fit in. I never have. I doubt I ever will. All that's happened these past few years just goes to show how I know myself best after all.

And how I hate insecurity, and being put in a position I'm uncomfortable in.

But he tries so hard to fit in. To be inconspicuous. To follow the crowd, to adapt to what others see him to be. To go with the flow. To please everyone that he can. He's adorable that way. But I can't abide that. Maybe when he gets older he'd realise what I have. That the effort is futile. That ultimately, you can't please everyone. There's bound to be some who would never be happy with how much you do. Or try. Or even, who you are as a person. I've said my piece on that. I shan't say anything more.

All I know is that I'm too different. I think differently. Behave differently. Act differently. I'd please someone if it suits me to. If it's someone whose opinion I care about. And yet, my friend's right. There are times when I must put my foot down. Enough is enough.

Well, this is me. I may take things lying down for the longest time. But when I do finally decide to get up on my feet and walk away, I walk away and don't look back. It's terminal. It's over. It's enough.

And this time, it's enough. If he won't make a decision, then I will. He's taken what's important. I've given all that I can. There's nothing more left to give. Nothing I can afford to give.

He can't ask for much more. That'd be a subtle cruelty. The person I've come to know and care for wouldn't do that. He couldn't. At least, that's what I want to believe.

The Deal

The Deal

Here's the deal, ya?

I always do the stupid things. I always set myself up for trouble. But really, here's the deal. If I don't get the best of someone, why should I take the worst? If I'm not being acknowledged for something I've done, or for who I am, then why must I continue allowing myself to be taken for granted? I'm not this, so don't treat me like one. You don't acknowledge me as such, so I shouldn't have to take no shit from you. Yes? Fair's fair, no?

STUPIDITY... stupidity

STUPIDITY... stupidity

Now some dumbass worthless brainless Datuk wants Malaysian women to start wearing chastity belts in an effort to curb rape. STUPID. STUPID. S.T.U.P.I.D. How the hell did this neuron-less people become Datuks in the first place???? They get awards for stupidity now?

It's not my problem that men get boners when they see me. And sometimes, it's not even the clothes you wear, or how old you are.

I wanna hang said idiot upside down by his testicles, I'm telling you.

Not that I'm surprised the mentality has regressed to this extent, I'm just fucking pissed off that such fuckers exist in this fucking country. What the fuck. Fuckers should go form their own country and leave the rest of the world in peace. Fuck... such fuckers should die a miserable death being fucked from the backdoor. Serves them fuckers right. Then they'd know how it feels like to be fucked without their consent. SHHEEEEESSSSSSHHHHHHH..... Stupid assholes.

Forgive the bad language. Very the pissed off.

Garrhhhh....

Garrrhhhh....

I hate motorcyclists.... and Maybank. 'Nuff said.... and how can a place like this have a black out and not have a back-up generator??? AIIIHHHHH......

slow day and my thoughts

slow day and my thoughts

I'm sleepy. Stayed out quite late two nights in a row.

Spent Valentine's at Nirwana's chatting till almost two 'cos we were on an interesting topic, and we forgot the time.

I found that my thought processes are so much more masculine/ cold/ practical/ different then most of my female peers at this stage. And yet it saves me a lot more heartache than if I didn't think that way. The problem is always when I allow someone to cross from one compartment where I've placed them to another.

Yumchar yesterday and talked nonsense till late. :D Nice, but I had trouble waking up this morning. Tried another route to work today. Slightly faster, i.e. can have a bit more of my precious sleep :)

Bought two flowy, loosely-fitting, slinky, 3/4-sleeved, geometrically-patterned cotton dresses yesterday. And a pair of cotton pants that are so comfy :) Why is it that I always end up spending money when I'm unhappy? And frustrated? And alone? I've been binge-ing on chocolate as well. Sighs.

Not that the dresses aren't lovely. They are. But but but... I wanna buy new bra and knickers. And lingerie. And shoes. I need to throw out a lot of my old ones and buy a pair that I can use everyday and that can last. Dammit. I need money for that. I don't need two pair of dresses that make me look and feel very sexy, but which I might not be using as often.

I hate the feeling of losing control. Especially of giving in to temptation. There's a word for it. It's called L-U-S-T. The purchase of those dresses is the embodiment of lust in its purest form: I want. I get.

I is a very bad gurl....

Work and Valentine's

Work and Valentine's

In 3 weeks of work, I've scanned about 105 patients.

Interesting cases I've done/ seen:

1) Did my first scrotal scan. Men's balls ain't easy to hold down. The damn testes' swim around. And in the end I had to hold them with my left hand while I hold the probe steady with my right to get proper pictures for documentation. Dude had epididymitis. Testes were fine, but the outside of it was inflammed. Basically he had swollen, painful, and hot balls. Ok.

2) Breasts scan the very next day. Certain genes just have big titties. Not easy to scan either. They flop to one side, then to get to the other side, you gotta lift it up a bit so it flops to the other side, so u can reach the breast tissues. Not exactly foolproof, cos u're bound to miss something, what with all the flipping around, but not like we have a choice. Patient was fine in this case. I didn't see any lumps/ cysts.

*Now all that's left is for me to perform a TV scan, and I'd have done it all in this company. Have done breasts and TV scans, btw.

3) On Monday, I scanned a supposedly 7-month old baby that didn't seem to have a heart on Ultrasound. No foetal movement, small for dates, and when I dropped an M-line, the line was flat. No good. I saw the lungs, or what little there was of it, the limbs, the head, but no heart. I bet the baby was stillborn. It's heartbreaking. And the mother, I suspect, is aware of it, but is in denial. She says she can feel the babe move. Just a little. I think it's sad, but there's little to be done. Termination has to be performed. You can't keep it in there. Patient was referred to GH.

4) Saw weird kidneys today. Patient was referred for microscopic haematuria. Right perinephric fluid collection was noted. Not much corticomedullary differentiation seen. Suspicion of an isoechoic mass in the right renal pelvis with associated focal caliectasis. Left kidney appears to be malrotated with lobulated outline. There didn't appear to be corticomedullary differentiation, and it just looked bloody weird to me. Probably a congenital malformation. Either that, or chronic infection.

Appointment letter not given to me yet. And apparently, there's some medicolegal and management issues surrounding my employment and job description. Honestly? I'm not doing anything that's compromising my position, or future employment. Management issues, are management issues. I have no say. But medicolegal is my issue. And that's that.

Going out for dinner and drinks with friends later. I see an episode of SATC coming right up, Malaysian style ;) Thumbing my nose at Valentine's, the commercial one. Celebrating it, the traditional one.

Happy Valentine's and 'I Love You's' to:

1) My family

2) My Kuching pals (some of you I've known approx 20 years, more or less. Muax muax!! Something's got to be said for friendships that last that long. I call it Magic and Effort :))

3) My friends from UPM

4) My friends from work and beyond

5) Just my friends :)

6) Those whose hearts I've broken. Hey, I was young, and green and ignorant. And I've never done it intentionally. There are things I really didn't know then. Hopefully, I've learnt them by now.

Ciao!! Fa a modr.. (I think :))

Happy Valentine's

Happy Valentine's

Currently loving Climie Fisher's 'Rise to the Occasion' and John Legend's 'Save Room'. I'm such a ridiculous sap. Yuck. Disgusted with myself. In my defense, they're both nice songs, ok?

Happy Valentine's y'all.

I blogged. But computer at work doesn't have a thumbdrive. Now curi curi come online. Hehe...