Ain't nobody got time for dat

It would be the biggest understatement of the century when I say things have changed since Egypt.

EVERYTHING CHANGED YA BASTARDS.

Well, let's not use the word change. Let's say, everything is progressing along quite nicely.

I'm a doctor, I will be responsible over another human being which is terrifying and exciting.
I have outgrown some people. I used to unconditionally admire this guy but now I truly realize I am too good for him.
I said goodbye to my friends. Realistically speaking, that was probably the last time I'll  meet them.
I'm moving to Kuantan. New environment, new situations, new everything.


Honestly, I am so terrified of everything right now. But I will go through it like everyone else. Take it one day at a time. What else can I do, right.

Perfect love is like a blossom that fades so quick.

Here's a little late night lament.

I probably should've fought harder for us. It wasn't fair that you had to do most of the emotional heavy lifting. In hindsight, I think I already knew it won't work out as perfectly as we want it to be. Distance is already not on our side and with my luck, God knows what else could've gone wrong. It makes me sad. Please don't think I never think about it because I do.

But we're friends now so that's super magnificent. Let's be friends and have awesome BBQ birthday parties.

Norah Jones, you are my nightingale.

And if you hate me then hate me so good that you can let me out of this hell when you're around.

"Friend: People say, when a guy can't look at you straight in the eye for too long when they talk to you, it means they like you.
Me: These people must be very sad and very ugly."

People getting married, politics, and final exams. Three things that couldn't have been more out of my interest is all that's happening lately. That line from Fight Club "I am Jack's raging bile duct" keeps coming to my head now.

I am Jack's raging bile duct. Ugh.

Far from home, elephant gun.

My perfect holiday would be me lying across the green grass with my favourite book on my chest. My new sunglasses shielding my eyes from the bright spring sun. People loitering around. Dogs running about with sticks in their mouths.

Maybe someone is sitting cross legged next to me, watching the ducks in that lake there. Maybe we'll talk for a little bit. Maybe not. People don't talk much in my perfect holiday.

I'd be bursting with complacency, with the fact that I'm a thousand miles away from home, sprawled on a park of some foreign country. No schedules, nowhere to go, none. Just mindless, reckless, jelly like calmness.

The color of my dress, the sound of the distant laughing, the smell of the spring grass, the weight of the sun's warmth, they all come together, carefully sewed on to form this scene.

Somewhere where they don't really speak proper English, and when they do they'll do it with a thick accent so I'm constantly reminded of the state of total isolation that I'm in, something that's both comforting and alarming.


Sigh. One day my sweet,
one sunny spring day.

Heaven have mercy.

I love war related series/movies. I don't watch them as much as I want, but I love them.

No, no you don't get it. I love baking. I love shirtless guys with sexy abs. I love dogs. I love Mark Ruffalo.
But I love war related series/movies. It's goddamn italicized. In the world of typeface, that's about as dead serious as it gets.

Recently, I've been mad about Band of Brothers. I have the goddamn soundtrack playing right now as I write this and it's been on for the past 2 days. I've raved about it to my friends, and about 80% of them said something along the lines of "Oh yeah my dad loves that show." So what I would really like to do is gather all these magnificent beasts they call 'dads' and have a fucking marathon so that I can finally share this bursting unadulterated affection I have for this goddamn show.

I have this weird thing with wars and armies and big things exploding and sacrifices and courage. It's been there since I was a kid, I shit you not. I swear if you look at my old notebooks, you know the ones where teachers made you write your autobiography in; name, age, parent's occupation etc. , you will see 'soldier' under 'ambition'. And I use to go around telling people I want to join the goddamn army when I'm older.

I think it's the fact that these people go to war fully knowing they could die at any second but still willingly join in because it's the right thing to do, and I think I just really want to be that kind of person.

If I was young, I'd flee this town.

You know how sometimes you lug things from your past around town and everything you do is affected by this bag of regrets or whatever, that really has no place where you're going. People should travel light in life. I'm not saying forget about it completely, I just think once you've learned from it and taken what you can get from it, it should be left there because come on let's face it, you'll just tire yourself out from dragging that thing around.

____________

I had a pseudo-existentialist conversation with a friend and we agreed that people are like swimming pools. Some people gets peed in, others have magnificent BBQ summer parties. And before you dive in with your hopes and dreams you better be wearing some floaties or at least have a basic knowledge of swimming or else all of those dreams are going to drown and die. Also, once in a while it's okay to go crazy and fill your pool with grape juice and Gatorade and have a little fun with your friends.

And he said that when swimming pool people die, their watery soul goes to the sea where they would forever be immortalized in an aquatic wonderland. Then he showed me this band, Beirut which I am now eternally in love with.

And I realize that I am surrounded by talented people. Athletes, cooks, social butterflies, film makers, future criminal defence lawyers, tax accountants, people who can juggle.

And then there's me, a person that comes up with stupid metaphors for people and bake cupcakes in her past time. I'd feel a little sad, but well my cupcakes are damn tasty.

I've lost control of my life.

You're a hard soul to save with an ocean in the way, but I'll get around it.

I am tired, so so tired but I can't seem to doze off for more than 2 hours. It's incredibly annoying since I have a butt load of things to do, things that need a sound and well rested mind and body. I am this close to giving up, but "don't start something if you're not going to finish it" is my new found principle so bring it on.

And this song. THIS SONG. Her songs. Great giblets I'm in love with her  voice.
And the song she did for Snow White and the Huntsman is the saving grace of  that movie. I can watch a 4 minute video of the important bits of that movie with that song as a soundtrack and be satisfied. Also, Chris Hemsworth is too beautiful to be human. I believe he is part Elf or Pixie.

I belong with you, you belong with me, you're my sweetheart.

So that was a well deserved, well needed, re-energizing holiday. I LOVE IRELAND! People just walk around with a pint of Guinness at 2 in the afternoon and old ladies stop you in the street to compliment your bag. And the kids, oh Lord my beautiful nephews. I love them with every piece of molecule I have inside of me. Also during the whole 2 weeks I was there I didn't feel hunger at all. The next meal was always there that my stomach didn't have the time to be empty. THERE'S ALWAYS FOOD TO EAT. It was beautiful. My sister is an amazing cook and mother and wife. I'm proud as hell. AND HEY I read so many books it's crazy. It's like a physical and mental holiday and I'm just feeding myself all these food and books and now I'm all fat and jolly and clever.

A whole day of plane rides and airports and foreign languages and boarding passes. Jeez Louise man.

This flabbergasted French lady was yapping at me in French, asking for directions I think, and I was so taken aback I just nodded and said "Oui, oui." She smiled and said "Merci!" and I'm pretty sure I just made her miss her flight.

I gulped down 3 cans of Redbull in Cairo which I'm pretty sure is toxic. I got very jittery in the plane ride to Alex and kept freaking people out by humming and just being generally hyper. The steward dude was like "Drinks miss?" I said "Scotch and soda please" He's like "We don't serve alcohol in this flight Miss." And I said, "Okay then apple juice it is! Hehehe"

And those custom people before you go out after baggage claim, where you have to declare any illegal weird shit that you're carrying around in your baggage, I swear it's annoying as hell. Why ask me what I have in my bag and then casually glance at my bag, not even opened, and be all like "Okay" That's not efficient security work. I swear I almost, tip of my tongue, almost said "Oh you know, explosives and shit. And a couple of dirty socks." just to be a wise ass.


And these guys, yeah, they're amazing. This song is just too good to not be everywhere and annoy the hell out of you but you still love it and sing along every time it's on the radio, like that song Little Talks.

Cosmic love.

I do worry that I'm going to end up alone. Or worst, hating the person I end up with.

Because of the expectations I have for my future partner. Right now, I don't want to change the expectations because I do believe he's out there somewhere. It's not like they're unrealistic. I'm not hoping for a rich tall good looking stud who's a freak in bed. I just want someone.
oh shit I don't even know what I want in a man.

But hey what I am absolutely sure is I need a man who loves to suddenly break out into random songs and will dance along to the top hits of the 90's. (wait he sounds awfully gay) Or at least when I do it (and man do I do it always), even if he hates it, he doesn't make me stop and tolerates it like a champ.

Lately though, I've had the habit of being obsessed with guys I've only met twice or thrice and had conversations shorter than Kim Kardashian's wedding. I would worry that there's something wrong with me but I've asked around and this is completely normal. Apparently these days it's perfectly acceptable to fall in love with the made up idea of a person than actually getting to know that person and fall in love with them then. HAH

Another thing I'm pretty sure about is I don't want to go through the whole "hee hee um do you wanna be my gurlfrend" thing any more. I'm too old for that shit. I'm a shitty girlfriend anyway. You know when I listen to old people grandparents stories, the guy would see the girl for the first time and say to his parents "I'm going to marry that girl." and they do end up together for 60 years. There's none of these dating 10 different girls until you find the right one thing. Times have changed I know bla bla bla things don't always work out blabbity bla. I just think it's nice is all.


We just had dinner with our Ophthalmologist doctor and he said "The first moment I saw my wife's eyes, I fell in love with her." I just. What.
We d'awwed so hard I think the people who heard us grew new ovaries. I couldn't handle the amount of the sweetness in that sentence and just shed a tiny tear of hope that one day that'll happen to me too.

Swell window.

Started to jog again. My body is now broken and my legs are no longer there. But man alive, how I've missed running. I use to run all the time when I was younger. Running away from my angry mom, running towards the roti ice cream motorcycle guy, running around in circles, in zig zags, running up a tree, stairs, roads, running after cats, cows, buffaloes, baby chickens, running in school sports day, marathons. I was a very healthy, active child. Then puberty happened and all I wanted to do was eat chocolate donuts and watch Blues Clues in my pyjamas.

The people at the stadium were all like, 6 feet tall dudes in spandex doing sit ups and sprints and 12 year olds with biceps bigger than a log and then there's me, in my sweatshirt with a fitness level of a tree. It was amazing though. Ran until my sides hurt. Saw a fat kid running. He was all slow and limping but he wouldn't stop. I love him. There's a special place in my heart for fat kids who runs.

In my head, while running, I kept picturing the part in Mulan where Shang was all disappointed that China sent a bunch of pansies to fight the war and was like, "SOMEHOW I'LLLLLL MAKE A MAN OUT OF YOUUUU!" and in the end, he did, through hard work and dedication. It's very inspirational.

Also, no work out playlist is ever complete without Eye of the Tiger. That song can make making toast the most important physical task you've ever done in your life and that you must do it with enough man power to pull a horse cart.

On the way back while waiting for the tram, I saw a random good looking guy with a small drum thing and I winked at him a little. He could easily have been a hobo. Sigh, I have no self control.

I'm going to Ireland this May. I sort of wish I'm going with someone cool but no one wants to go with me. But really I shouldn't, because by the time I get there I'd probably regret having anyone with me since I'd have to be the host and all courteous when I really just want to eat bagels all day in a bathrobe and watch Peppa Pig with my nephews. Ah glorious days, they shall be.

But for now, I need to study about eye things and such. Exams are near and I have no idea what I'm going to do in OSCE. Blind my patient with the torch, probably. Alas, such is life.

I pull up to the front of your driveway with magic soaking my spine.

I am as smitten as a smitten kitten could be. That racy heart beat thing is still there. The rational part of my brain says it's only residual emotions and it'll go away in a month. The irrational part tells me to go back to Italy and find him the one true love of all eternity and all time and space.

(My problem is, I look too far and wide for a great guy and I don't realize there's one right under my nose. Also I'm really good at making guys think I don't like them when I really do, A LOT, because I'm too lazy to take the next step. What why am I talking about this.)

Second day of class (for me), and amazingly enough the deep pit feeling of doom and despair isn't there. Well at least, not yet. I'm still fresh from holiday anyway and the wonderful memories are still springing me up to cloud nine. And hey, people have been coming up to me saying "I love your red hair!" For once in my life I feel cool.


During lunch, talking about Trevi Fountain.

Friend: They say if you throw in coins more than twice, then it means you would come back.
Me: OMG

Hells yes will go back to Rome again definitely absolupositively. I HAVE TO.

Before you go, can you read my mind?

Oh my God, Italy.

I admit it took a little time for Italy to grow on me. The constant drizzling rain were a pain and almost made me give up on the trip. My boots were soaked through, I was always wet with blurry glasses and floppy hair all over my face; it was hard to like Italy despite the heavenly pizzas. But once the sun came out and stayed out, it was everything I wanted it to be. Overloaded with history with such simple ways of living and the best kind of people. The kind that leaves you alone but doesn't mind being stopped in the middle of the street for a conversation.

A bunch of mad stuffs happened and they were amazing and I wish I can do them all over again and I don't really feel like writing them all down and I just want them in my head because some things should just stay in your head.

But holy snozzberies I will say this. The people there (and by people I of course mean the guys) are so incredibly good looking. Also since it's winter they're all growing out their beard so you can imagine how every few minutes or so I would go "DAYUM" while walking down the streets with my jaws gaping.

We took a short little walking tour of Florence and visited the place where Dante first saw Beatrice. The lady tour guide said that he only met Beatrice a couple of times but he was so moved by her that she became his muse throughout his life. It was kind of weird and creepy, but I get it. I swear every Italian guy that ever smiled/looked/winked at me became my Beatrice. There was this one guy at the bus stop, with beautiful brown eyes and an even more beautiful smile, sigh, just- yeah, I wish I had stopped the bus, got down and hugged that beautiful man.

People say I've put on a little weight from all the pizza, but I swear they're just jealous because I weighed myself last night and I have the same weight I had before I went to Italy. I could be delusional but even so I couldn't really give that much of a crap because all the pizzas I've eaten were blew into life by angels and baked by the sweet tender springtime sun and sprinkled with world peace.

Also, hey I had red hair for the trip which was frightening and bad ass. I both don't want to look at my pictures and want to post them everywhere so everyone can see them.

I was listening to The Killer's "Read My Mind" while stuck in transit in Zurich Airport at 2 am in the morning and I swear that song is the perfect song to remind myself of that trip. I never really noticed how great the lyrics are, especially that last line, 

"The stars are blazing like rebel diamonds cut out of the sun, when you read my mind."  

And you have your choices and these are what make man great, his ladder to the stars.

This is a  rant of some sort. Let's do this in point form, because it's neater.

1) If it wasn't for my mother, I would've dropped everything and everyone in a second, cut off my hair, dye it red and run off to somewhere in Salzburg and be a village librarian.

2) You want to know why people suck? They talk about enlightenment and drink black coffees and discuss Bob Dylan's life and spit out every last bit of clever words they can think of in a 2 minute conversation and when you dip your hand in their water, your hand doesn't even get wet. They're just shallow and dry and misleading.

3) I just had 2 cans of RedBull so I am all over the place even I can't keep up with my own thoughts.

4) This 16th of March, Mumford & Sons will be playing in Rome and by God's good grace I will be in Rome at that time but His grace only reaches to that extend because the tickets are all sold out. I almost got the tickets but things happened and I couldn't and all I want to do is crawl into a box and weep silently and calmly. I would have to manage with the knowledge that I will be physically closer to them than I've ever been before.

5) I just realized, exams suck my soul dry. By the end of next year, it would be as starved as I am right now and I would have to replenish it by travelling and seeing things. Crazy lady and I wants to go to Johannesburg after the last exam of the last year.

6) I feel like I'm a bowl. A tiny glass bowl and I can't need to get out.

Dat 1:43 smile.

I dare you to close your eyes and see all the colours in disguise.

There was this gentleman, he came up to me and asked me about something I posted on my blog, like a year ago and since we've never really properly talked and I don't even know his real name, this freaked me out to no hell.
I just laughed maniacally, said  "WHO ARE YOU" and waddled away awkwardly.

Anyway, The Walking Dead is on air again. Daryl didn't die. That'll hold me until after winter break.

So let's see what else is new with life.

Oh right, NOTHING.

Good grief I am so negative even I hate me.

Butt face finals are here. I've been studying Gynaecology so much for the past days that I actually had a dream that I was pregnant with an alien baby that grew in my belly all lopsided and my robot husband wanted to harvest more alien babies with my uterus, for science.

Shits and giggles.

It's very rare to find someone who appreciates the things that you appreciate. Or loses their shit at the same exact moment when you lose your shit when a certain song or movie is played.

You might meet a couple of people who gets you, but meh, they just kinda get you but not really actually.

Then you find that one gem that gets you so precisely and so deeply that you fear the two of you would spontaneously morph together and explode because the universe just can't handle two of you in one body. Yes, when you find that beautiful gem, let's not let go of that gem, shall we.

In other news, I feel like dyeing my hair red again. And when asked why, I would assume an expression of total seriousness, and reply "For shits and giggles."

In fact, from now on all of my answers to any question starting with 'why', will be "For shits and giggles."

You: "Why are you screaming? It's 3 am in the morning!"
Me: "For shits and giggles."

You: "Why banana?"
Me: "For shits and giggles."

This made me so happy beyond belief and reason. She's real! (kind of)

Princess Aurora is my favourite person in Disney, ever. She's kind of useless and just lays there and waits for (sigh) Prince Phillip, but I love her. Should I finally crack and lose my mind, I would definitely end up dressing up like her and dance around barefoot with an owl.

Mama's little hobbit.

Introduced to these guys two hours ago. I spot a couple of Indian looking guys. THEE HEE

A few days ago, the girls and I were talking in the kitchen and apparently it's common knowledge that guys like to test girls to see how far she likes him. I was not aware of this at all (and so I have a suspicion that I might have failed every test any guy has ever given me) but the way they were talking about it makes it seem like it's as obvious as yellow is the colour of banana. If this is indeed true then I'm kind of bummed out. I always thought this is what girls do to guys because to me the guys, when it comes to love, is the saner half.

"Hey I'm going to test you now and if you win, you get me." Hahahahahah. WHAT.

I find it hilarious that you need to secretly dole out an intricate plan to test someone you like, like some common MCQ bubble test thing. What's wrong with asking? Grow balls (or lady balls if you're a girl) and ask. Why make something that is already so god damn complicated more difficult?

Then J turned to me and said "Ika you won't test guys like this. If you're going to fall in love, you're already sure he's the one." , which is the nicest thing anyone has ever said to me. I like that she knows what I was thinking in my head.

Anyway, that's that.

Been listening to the songs that I've put up in my blog. I have to say, I have great taste in music. And such variety. But of course, it's my blog and I put those songs there and...well, all of this is just redundant.

I am leaving, but the fighter still remains.

The moment I realized this exists was one of the happiest of my life. Simon & Garfunkel and Mumford & Sons, really? Life unlocked.

That's it, really. This is all I wanted to share.


Also, there's a demon in my hair that won't let it stay down even after vigorous brushing. And the wind is only feeding it power.