I Believe In Taking Care of Myself

The best damn intro scene American cinematography has ever seen. I also like that I can get my beauty and skin maintenance tips at the same time:



The thing about alcohol drying your face out makes me laugh every single time.

J

I Love a Good Blog

Holy crap. Bloglovin' is amazing. How have I survived reading my 100+ daily blogs for all this time without it? My bookmarks bar is literally full of folders and subfolders full of blogs and sublogs. This makes is so much easier and is conducive to even more procrastination. Just in time for exams! I can even scroll through top fashion/food/fitness blogs (yeah, I went there) through Bloglovin' to find ones that catch my interest. This is so fantastic.

I ALWAYS WONDERED HOW PEOPLE WERE ABLE TO READ BLOGS SO EFFICIENTLY. Now I know. I'm the worst blogger ever.

J

Taylor Swift - "The Story Of Us"

Holy shit. So flawless. That enunciation. It's off the hook.



Why are we pretending this is nothing? I'd tell you I miss you but I don't know how... One day, Taylor, we will be together again. Come back to Perth after this tour.

And I will be as creepy as I can (not unlike this blog post).

J

Taylor Swift - "Teardrops on my Guitar"

1:42. I came. Then again and again as it kept playing.



I'm starting to be slightly devastated that I can't go see her live again at the end of this year (next year?). This performance is honestly so lovely. This is possibly the best live performance she has ever done. She sounds so good when she actually sings country and not that We Are Never Ever crap.

I feel she is more comfortable and confident with the country (yeah, I alliterated) and that's when she experiments and goes for notes she wouldn't with her newer songs. I hate it when she goes for "big notes" in songs like I Knew You Were Trouble because it sounds so artificial and unnatural, like it's thrown in there because there needs to be one big note in every song. But when she sings country and goes for the notes, it adds actual emotion and feeling and meaning to the song.

Further evidence:



I'm such a turd. Sometimes I listen to her sing live and I'm literally in tears. I'll be sitting in front of my computer, listening, with my chin resting in my hand and having tears roll down my cheeks.

These new acoustic performances are so hauntingly beautiful. Her voice is so full of emotion and purity. It's fucking outstanding.

J

Hurr

Rocked up to my FCP tute with drenched, post-wash hair again this morning. Aw yis. I style so hard that I don't know what to do with myself sometimes.

In high school, I used to regularly go to school with wet hair from my shower. I didn't really see a problem with it whilst people like Rachael would come with perfectly coiffed do's. It didn't occur to me that my wet hair might be somehow unacceptable or unattractive until a lot lot later. 

J

Bloaty (It's a Word)

Finally got the pay that was owed to me from over a month ago. In fact, well over a month ago. I'm pretty sure they overpaid me too but whatever. I feel the emotional and mental stress/turmoil that has resulted from me chasing up the $100+ they owed me is worth the extra $50 they (accidentally) gave me. I will take it.

I had a wonderful day today (for the most part) except for and due to (at the same time) the copious amounts of unhealthy food I consumed. I will now itemize my meals from today:

Breakfast:

• Banana porridge

Morning tea:

• 1x Tim Tam
• 1x triple choc cookie
• 1.5x caramel slice

Lunch:

• 7x wedges with sour cream and sweet chilli sauce
• 1x mini chocolate cupcake
• 2x nachos

Afternoon tea:

• 1x banana cake

Are you seeing that? I felt so bloated and disgusting (but mostly guilty) when I came home that I made myself do a quick workout. I wanted to go for a run (which is more sweaty and exhausting therefore more conducive to a therapeutic effect) but I'm trying to rest my leg for a while while it heals. I never thought I'd be one of those people that felt shit because they couldn't go for a run (back when I was running with Little Mishelle, I used to praise Allah when it would rain in the morning therefore giving us a legitimate reason to not go) but I don't want my stamina to decline and have to start all over again.

I saw my sweet UWA Kiddos today, many of whom I haven't seen for a long time. I hung out with Big Michelle in the afternoon (which is something I get to do less and less these days). It was good. I have to go shower now.

J

Hav(a) Piece of Toast

It's beginning to look increasingly unlikely that I'll ever get around to that cool blog post I mentioned like a week ago.

That's pretty much all I wanted to say. I'm back here just reaffirming the fact that the number of times I post a day increases exponentially during exam period.

Class party tomorrow! I'm going to hit up Woolworths soon and get something chocolatey and cookalicious to bring. Because I'm too lazy/have no time to bake. I studied all day today after my injurious run this morning. I'm going to do today's lectures tonight. It's disgusting. Old Junaberry would be disgusted with this behaviour (literally, studying all day) as she is a great advocate for nighttime relaxation after a day of study. Not an option right now. I'm 80% of the way to panic zone.

That being said, I also wasted a lot of time thinking about R. And thinking about what I'm going to buy for tomorrow's class party. And eating toast. I had three pieces of toast today. Is that too much? I just love toast and bread a lot. I don't think anyone will ever be able to meet my passion for carbohydrates. I literally have dreams about them.

Speaking of dreams, I had a dream the other night that involved me marrying a Jewish man. We danced to Hava Nagila and there were bagels. I also had to take Hebrew lessons before the wedding. It was worth it. At the end, all of my new Jewish family members gave me a big hug and it was exquisite. What the fuck is wrong with me?

J

Hello World

The concept of exercise is so bizarre. You are literally causing yourself pain. If you're not in pain, you're not doing it right. It's ridiculous.

An intelligent thought for you to consider...

Also, Heli Simpson is my medical idol. We all know who Heli Simpson is, right?

According to Wikipedia, she is a doctor now. She is amazingly smart, participated in all sorts of braniac kids' competitions when she was younger and has one of the coolest pasts in the world (excuse me, Veronica diAngelo is the best thing that ever happened to Pine Hollow).

I am contemplating going to Melbourne and somehow injuring myself so she can doctor me.

J

Paramore - "I Caught Myself"

Damn, Paramore. I'm still into you:



Also, I'm pretty sure I just gave myself shin splints. I fit the classic symptoms perfectly. This is actually a serious diagnosis. My previous diagnoses about early-onset dementia and bipolar and what have you were partially jokes. I'm being legit about the shin splints.

J

Ob?Gyn

You should all be concerned that I get the majority of my medical knowledge from Wikipedia. Fear for your future children (should I decide to become an Ob/Gyn or pediatrician or GP and you decide to send your offspring to me).

Speaking of becoming an Ob/Gyn, is it weird that I'm actually thinking of becoming one? Except the Ob part (I do not like babies/pregnant women). This idea came to me because I was watching a Ross Kemp documentary on rape and genocide and other really pleasant stuff in some part of Africa (honestly, I cannot remember. I am ignorant as well so it's probably Rwanda or somewhere. I just avoid associating Rwanda with genocide because then everyone will be all, "ALL YOU KNOW IS RWANDA." Well, yeah. All I know is Rwanda. What am I even saying?).

Ross was visiting this isolated hospital/clinic in Some Part of Africa and talking to the main doctor/founder of the hospital. The doctor was describing how the majority of his patients were little kids and babies who were raped. He used the phrase "their insides are just exploded." It just killed me. I kept thinking of how these little babies, not old enough to understand what was happening to them, were being horrifically and violently raped, their internal organs literally being torn apart.

And suddenly the idea of being an Ob/Gyn came to me and I had this picture of going to this isolated clinic and helping repair tiny babys' exploded insides.

Obviously, this is unlikely to happen because I'm not brave enough and tend to take the safer route. But it was a thought of mine. I'd like to help people who really, really need it. Enough of this suburban GP shit, helping kids with colds and old people with ingrown toenails. I'm not saying they don't deserve help or don't need it but the stark comparison to people out there in other countries who are literally dying and suffering pain that makes ingrown toenails look like stroking a fluffy bunny is jarring.

J

Absence and the Heart

Just picture this. Me, in my stunning blue uniform, entering my haven (I'm not even going to pretend like I'm not in love with Officeworks. You've obviously realized that already. I am highly devoted to it and I think I'm one of the few people that actually really enjoys my job).

I glance around as I always do. To get my bearings and see who else is on. I see A, my stupid manager and whose head should I see peeking over the printers? None other than R's. Looking as adorable as ever.

After about fifteen minutes, he wanders over to POS.
"I haven't seen you in ages!" he says. I melt.
"I know! What's new, mate?" I say. I try to keep my cool but I'm absolutely thrilled to see him. He puts on his pondering face. He is as slouchy and acne-faced as ever.
"Not much! They changed all my shifts and put me on less. I'm only on Friday afternoons now," he says.
"By choice?"
"No!"

We bitch about our manager and the new rosters. We laugh and smile. I regress into my own little world where it's just me and R. Sometimes, I get so engrossed that I forget to include A, my other usual Saturday partner in crime (and honestly, one of the most awesome people I have met this year), in the conversation. I must work on that.

He leaves to help out in tech.

There's a point where I call for his help at POS over the PA. He comes over and helps the guy. I look over at him as he's walking away with the guy. He looks back at me. I smile and mouth "thank you." Sometimes I don't know if it's just me or he does actually look back at me more than the usual person. Maybe it's just wishful thinking. But sometimes I feel it. Sometimes I know when he's going to glance back.

Another moment occurs that I feel notable. I'm at the registers, he's being door bitch. We talk. He confirms with me, "You want to be a GP, right?" I say I'm not sure, I'm not really interested in anything that much. He says, "Boys?" all jokey and what have you.

No. Just you, R. Just you.

I haven't even told you the worst part yet. He comes over during his break to get some money out. I service him (I would service him in more ways than that if he let me... Har har). I comment on his signature and say, "I love the flourish, R." He challenges me and says he can do it even better than that. He uses his receipt to do a huge signature and gives it to me, telling me to keep it forever and that his autograph will be worth millions one day. We laugh about it.

When he turns his back, I do actually pocket his stupid signatured receipt. I have placed it in a safe area where no one shall find it. I will cherish it forever.

And now for a negative experience. Since that day he made highly illegal and inappropriate copies of that bikini clad babe's photos, the topic of his bachelorhood and wannabe-womanizing ways have come up every time I've interacted with him.

Today, he told me about how he emailed his contact in Japan (a girl who's friends with someone in his Japanese class that he's staying with). He says that in his email, he mentioned that he's single and that she should introduce him to her single friends. In her email back, she says that she is also single.

"Are you going to go for it?" I ask him, still smiling.
"Nah, it'd be too weird."

Honestly, R. You don't need to work so hard to get a girl. Just ask me.

For my final R moment of the day, I must recount my first exposure to R's Forearms. They were having a barbecue outside today. He helped them carry the equipment back into the store including a rather heavy table. I looked over as he walked past. His muscles were straining. I focused in on his forearms (as you would). They were so average. I mean, the muscles were obviously under stress and I saw a vein or two. But it was nothing special, you know what I mean? None of that Zac Efron virility. Just a pair of forearms. Honestly, my forearms probably look the same when I'm straining them.

I still found them tantalizing as hell. There's so little about him that meets my criteria for a super attractive guy worthy of this level of crushing. But I still find everything about him so attractive.

I'm on in two weeks with him again. Can't wait.

J

Just Another Public Toilet

Big Michelle and I both stumbled onto a lady in the toilets at meddent library having what (I assume) is possibly the worst explosive diarrhoea I have ever been exposed to in my life.

At first, I walked in and knew something was going down. The fragrance was strong. I looked at the only locked cubicle and saw two bare feet facing the toilet. I was concerned. But I really needed to pee so went to the cubicle furthest away and did what I did. 

As I sat there (or hovered as I fear a UTI), the smell became even more... intoxicating, shall we say. I left the cubicle and it became even worse, permeating every corner of the bathroom. I was scared it would seep into my clothes and people would think I shat in my jacket. I washed my hands and heard the crinkling of a plastic bag from the cubicle. It was somewhat desperate sounding. 

At that moment, I felt a very intense sadness for this poor lady (again, on the assumption she was having very terrible diarrhoea). The lack of shoes was the thing that really got me. What happened? Did she shit in her shoes? Did she shit her pants and it seeped into her shoes? Big Michelle hypothesized that her pants were too tight to take off without taking her shoes off. I enjoyed that one.

I still feel very sad for her and hope she managed to get out, go home and wash up without anything too embarrassing...

J

I Think I'm Turning White

I have officially become a White person. I used to laugh at those Whities when they expressed their appreciation for white rice + soy sauce. I tried it a few months ago and have been hiding my deep love for it. It is the most beautiful creature in the world. What's even better is a dash of mirin as well. Mirin + light soy creates my most favourite of all sauces; the sauce they use for agadeshi tofu. I'm sure it has a name but I only know it as "the best sauce in the universe."

I also made the amazing discovery that there is a section in my FCP clinical skills book that is directly copy-pasted from Wikipedia.

Still procrastinating  And procrastinating from that super cool blog post I promised a couple of days ago. Don't worry, it will come (much like your mum).

J

In Which I End Up Talking About Food

I DON'T THINK I HAVE EVER BEEN THIS COLD IN MY ENTIRE LIFE.

All day I have been shivering. I'm wearing my leavers' jumper, my high school trackies (I know; please resist having your way with me right now), my sick Jay Jays batman t-shirt, thick bed socks and slippers. I'm basically the most sensual, sexual creature you'll ever find right now, all dolled up in what is my most fancy going out outfit.

And I'm still cold. Like goosebumps, yellow toes, blue lips. The Raynaud's is kicking in big time (please also add that to the list of conditions I have self-diagnosed with).

How am I supposed to frolic in the European winter at this rate? I literally sicken myself. I would even trade this for summer (the season I usually vehemently express my distaste for).

I studied all day today and it sucked. I'm panicking slightly for exams.

We are having wanton mee for dinner tonight. That is completely irrelevant to the bulk of this post but I just wanted to say that because I love wanton mee. Maybe I can pretend I'm in hot, humid Malaysia while I eat it and stop feeling cold. I will organize a first class RCT study for this hypothesis after the meal. I shall be the only subject in the "eating" group. Everyone else will be controls. I don't want to share my wanton mee.

J

Blisters

Don't worry; I haven't forgotten about that sick blog post I promised last weekend. It will happen eventually, maybe tonight or tomorrow.

For the time being, please be amused by the fact I have come back to tell you about the horrendous blisters I have on my heels from wearing my boots today. Holy hell. I knew they were bad when the back of my shoes started feeling sticky. The telltale sign of oozing blood and pus. Sure enough, when I took my shoes off later, my socks were a bloody mess. 

When I got home, I went to wash off the blood (and probably faeces, to be honsies). I can't even remember the last time I felt such acute pain. It was kind of amusing at the same time. I'd hit it with a jet of water and there'd be a lag period. I wouldn't feel anything. "Oh good, maybe it has passed." And then it would come like a throbbing wave of torture.

At last count, I now have five blisters on my feet. Three from running and two (horrendous) ones from wearing boots today. That is so wrong. I would go as far as to call that ungentlemanly. I know that feet are ugly as sin and, in general, the most heinous part of the human body (except maybe the genitals? Is it asexual of me to say that genitalia are grotesque in appearance and in other functional capacities?) but it is just so wrong to abuse them so.

That's my new life philosophy, by the way. Be gentlemanly.

That is all for now. Continue bracing yourself for my super sick blog post. 

J

It is Time

This post is both cracking me up and making me kind of uncomfortable at the same time: http://www.hungryrunnergirl.com/2011/02/wedding-pics-part-dos.html

So much sexual innuendo/suggestion. This is why I could never wait until my wedding night to get rid of the big V. Everyone would know (I assume it would be due to religion and therefore people would be aware) and, with the sort of people I associate with, many would make jokes throughout the evening as to the state of my hymenal area. Hymenal is not a word. I created it.

I would be nervous enough thinking about losing my maidenhood (this is the perfect post to whip out all these phrases regarding virginity). I wouldn't need complications of a wedding day to further exacerbate any fears of mine.

It's still kind of cute though (the above blog post). The photo of HRG's husband pointing to his watch is literally killing me. Like, with a knife.

"Come on, love. Time to deflower you."

That's all I'm hearing.

I also just discovered this post and had to come back and edit this post regarding my undying devotion to HRG: http://www.hungryrunnergirl.com/2011/05/ice-cream-hangover.html

Her comment about the bubble headed Utah children is killing me. She keeps it so real. I love that about her.

J

Keep It Real

I need to blog about this healthy living blogger because she is honestly fabulous: http://www.hungryrunnergirl.com

I read a lot of blogs. It has gotten a lot worse over the last few months. I'm constantly on the hunt for blogs; fashion, food, fitness (that is literally the name of a healthy living blog and many others but with those three words a different order. Speaking of fashion, food and fitness, I feel bloggers need to stop with the alliteration in their blog names. It lacks creativity).

At first, Carrots 'n' Cake was my jam. I could read that blog for hours (literally, combing through archives) but then I realized that blog was actually kind of boring and dry. Then I found HRG whose blog was lively and filled with adorable humour and mischief. So many other healthy living blogs are so forced and proper and filled with cliches. "This morning started bright and early with a big jar of overnight oats. Yum!"

It disgusts me. Keep it real, guys. That's my main message and I think the main concept through which I try to live my life.

I do truly realize how completely hypocritical and egotistical I am half (most) of the time. And how I rarely keep it real. But please note that I said it is the main concept through which I try to live my life.

Speaking of egoism, I completed my final GP visit today. And came to the realization that my GP preceptor is incredibly egotistical. I couldn't see it before because I was blinded by her authority and knowledge. Now it's all I see. It reeks from her. I used to think her 40 minute consultations were because she was incredibly thorough and compassionate. Now I realize that it is because she spends 35 minutes talking about her own life, how great her husband is, how smart she is, how professors have questioned her being a GP given how bright and talented she is (no shit; she actually said this).

In other news, running has been going really well. I've been trying to counteract the rich eating recently with a lot of running. I know I say running has been going really well but it still hurts like a bitch when I'm actually doing it. Questions like, "Why are you doing this to yourself?" and, "This must be what emphysema feels like," are constantly racing through my head as I'm lunging forward, trying my best to not fall face first into the concrete (like I once did on a basketball court some years ago... Little Mishelle knows what I speak of). I also fear doing myself a knee injury or giving myself osteoarthritis because my crepitus is through the roof and I self-diagnosed with early onset osteoarthritis last year.

I self-diagnose a lot. It was early onset dementia in first year. My bipolar suspicion has been ongoing since year 11 of high school. The early onset osteoarthritis started creeping into my mind last year when we started musculoskeletal examinations. Things are going downhill really quickly for me, guys.

J

Bitch, Bitch, Bitch

It's been at least 1.5 months since the last R sighting. He only works one day a week now; Friday 12-9pm. With each working day that he's not there, I become less and less invested in my interest in him. One day, it's going to be taper to nothing and I'm going to completely forget him. It's already happening. I'm caring less and less. It hurts because I remember how excited I was to see him. I know I'm not going to see him again (or at least not for a very long time) because there's a very high chance he's going to quit/go to Japan in the near future.

There's so much I want to say to him and find out. Almost this desperate need. You know how I always ramble on about those TV shows and stories that have those horrendous endings where someone leaves and you just want to know what happens to them? I feel that way so much now. To see his face again and all that mushy, borderline-stalker crap.

Enough about that though. Let me just stew in my own girly, dramatic misery.

Saturday at work was the absolute pits. I've never experienced so crappy a work day as that (except for maybe my first day). The girl at POS with me called in sick. One of the tech guys and one of the furniture guys called in sick. Only two of the managers (both new and completely shit at their jobs) and one of the tech guys who is the epitome of lazy were on. Plus me.

The managers are so incredibly shit. I can't even vocalized it adequately. They do not know anything. They transferred the other manager who'd been working there since the start because he was better at the job than them and they were scared he would undermine them. Now there's no manager that actually knows how to run the place.

I was the only person at POS. The two managers were supposed to be helping but they just stood at the door, gossiping. When we were closing up, they left me to close up all four registers, do the closing call (seriously, the main manager never does the closing call. I don't know if he's scared but it's fucking annoying because he just stands there, doing shit all) and serve customers at the same time. As we know, there are always assholes who wait until the very last minute to do their shopping so there's always a huge influx of customers going to buy their items at the end.

Even when I was literally glaring over at them so they would help me, they did not do anything.

I swear, I nearly started crying. The fucking sense of entitlement. You're my manager but you're still my colleague. He just walks around, tidying up shelves because he doesn't actually know how to do the official tasks necessary to run the store. There's a part of me that wants him to fuck up the whole thing (even to bankruptcy) so no one ever hires him again.

It was mostly the incompetency of the managers, the fact that they saw me struggling and didn't give a shit and feeling really alone out there, that irked me. Additionally, I was supposed to take a 30 minute break at some point during the day. I didn't ask for it because I knew they were short on staff. The thing that was shit is that neither manager even asked me if I'd taken my break or checked if I wanted/needed one. I would have said no because I didn't need one. But some appreciation and acknowledgement would have been nice. I did not even get a thank you at the end of the day for busting my ass.

The main manager thinks I'm his chum because I don't bitch or ask for breaks or shit. I'm not your fucking chum. I want to stab him in the face.

This rant about work was unintended.

J

Sour Ice Cream

I have a really cool (well, cool to me. The rest of you humdrum pedestrians may find it asinine) blog idea for either later this evening, tomorrow or the day after tomorrow. Or it may never actually happen, a lot like the phantom Day in the Life in Pictures post I alluded to (read: promised) last summer.

There will be pictures involved in this (tentatively) upcoming post.

Also, are Chobanis still 10 for $10 at Woolworths? Because the sign says four for $6 but they had that sign up when it was 10 for $10 and no other sign. I'm so confused. I love yoghurt. Sometimes I wonder if I only like Chobani because it's trendy as hell or because of the wide range of flavours that taste like dessert rather than anything resembling something healthy. My dad tasted some the other day and said it tasted like sour ice cream. I told him to stop eating my sour ice cream.

It sucks that the Chob is generally a lot more expensive than normal yoghurt. I'm eating Yoplait low fat mango flavour at the moment. It lacks the thick creaminess and adorable packaging (that's what she said) of Chobanis past.

J

Crazy People

After this recent influx of my dad's side of the family, I can only conclude that they are all fucking nuts. I should have known after my cousin, The Crazy Bitch, visited last holidays (that seems/is a long time ago but I still have the tan lines on my back from when we went snorkelling). I just didn't expect that anyone could be any crazier. At least my crazy cousin was fun, outgoing and non-conservative.

The recent batch are a bunch of ultra-conservative, absolutely nutty and, quite meanly/frankly, kind of stupid people. I know; what a bitch you are, J. And it's true, I am. But after sitting through dinner and seeing my aunt's expression when my mum talked about Penny Wong and her sexuality, I kind of just wanted to leave. I wish I could describe it here but words would not do it justice. I may act it out for you if you ask me next time you see me. For some ridiculous reason, I was tempted to say right then, "Wait, you guys know I'm gay, right?" 

You know how you get Jehovah's Witnesses coming to your door to "help you find the path to God" and you, quite reasonably, hide or pretend you're satanists if you belong to the Kinsman family? The relatives that are here right now ARE Jehovah's Witnesses. WE HAVE INVITED A BUNCH OF JEHOVAH'S WITNESSES INTO OUR HOME.

In fairness, I must question why my mother, with her good intentions as they are, would decide to bring up our lesbian minister for finance in dinner conversation.

For about half an hour, my hyper aunt kept talking about how effective glucosamine supplements are for her joints and if she takes it the night before, she immediately feels better the next day. It wasn't even me that said they had no scientific evidence for it; it was my mum. I agreed and said maybe it was the placebo effect. Her response: "No, it's not! Because I know it, I feel it when I walk up the stairs. I can actually feel that my joints are better."

NO. YOU DON'T.

I must mention my uncle and his new wife. She is at least 20 years younger than him. He also has a daughter of 25 years of age from his previous marriage. That means his daughter is 25, his wife is somewhere in her early to mid 30s. When they arrived this morning, I went to say hello. I had never met them before, had no idea how they were related to me. I saw two females around the same age and asked if they were sisters.

Oh God. It was painful. I felt bad for a while then I just thought, "Okay, if you marry a girl 20 years younger than you, you should naturally expect some of that, right?" Yes, I think so.

Also, they've completely fucked with my healthy eating/living plan. And they ate all the blueberry muffins I made for my mum for Mother's Day. 

THOSE WERE FOR MY MOTHER, BITCHES.

J

Hello

I really like that Lil Wayne song ft. Christina Milian. Except for the Lil Wayne parts.

J

You Need Me, I Don't Need You

Parents bringing home Corica's apple strudel and ricotta cake (my favourite, no lie) is not conducive to healthy eating.

Of course I ate some. In fact, I ate a lot. I will not say no to anything that delicious or luxurious. I will not say no to something I love but rarely eat. Due to my inability to say no (or eat a smaller serve), I will have to go for an extra intense jog tomorrow. Maybe I will race the old guy who runs along the same path as me.

I wanted to buy boots today really badly. Sometimes, I get these cravings in my head. I think about something then I have to act on it. It's like I can't be fulfilled unless I do it. Today, it was the boots. I wanted some, I needed some. I went to Betts where they had 30% off on quite a few cute ones but they were still around the $70-80 mark. Completely acceptable in many ways. I went to Novo and found an adorable pair for super cheap ($40) but they didn't have my size. I was lost. I was mentally and emotionally confused. I was experiencing that Carly Rae Jepsen song, Tug of War. In my heart and in my soul. I knew I would be depressed if I came home without boots but I also knew I would be depressed if I bought a pair that I wasn't completely set on (after the initial exhilaration of boot purchasing wore off).

So I didn't buy any boots. I will wait. We shall see.

I sense a lot of unhealthy eating will go on for the next week or so as some relatives are in town. This kind of annoys me. Whilst I love eating out and indulging in amazing, delicious, often carbacious food, I've been working pretty hard on my healthy eating and I know that getting back to this healthy routine after they leave will be super hard.

I will persevere.

(Also, have you heard that new Mariah Carey song? Oh, my God. She is so boss.)

J

Living Life Like I'm in a Play

Just got back from an evening run because Big Michelle convinced me that they are better than freezing cold morning runs in which bits of me break off in the cold and are found scattered along my running path (future Witch Hunter here). 

Fortunately, it was warmer. Unfortunately, it was warmer and I quickly overheated. My face was so red when I got back. I also had to dodge more cars and almost got run over by this rather impatient 4WD driver. Also, I think the food that had accumulated in my stomach over the course of the day caused me to get a stitch. This occurred at the most unfortunate time whilst I was trying to race this other male jogger. I had to stop and walk and he raced ahead. I could almost hear him laughing at me.

Some rellies are coming to stay with us for a couple of days tomorrow. This bugs me more than it would others. It means I'm not allowed to wear pyjamas until the minute before I get into bed. This sucks. I love wearing my pyjamas. When I was kid, I used to get into them right at 4pm on the dot. Then watch Rollercoaster (classic ABC program) until 5pm. 5-6pm is a blur. I'm not sure what I did during that time. I may have been engaging in illicit drugs. But 6pm was dinnertime and the bane of my existence. Everything tasted like shit when I was younger. I obviously did not appreciate my youthful metabolism. I should have eaten all the things back in the day. 

J

And It's Not Even My Birthday

I miss him so much.

And then I think, "No, you don't. You're just being an overly dramatic, attention seeking girl."

Both things are right. But it has been over a month now. I went to my work induction on Saturday. On the car ride home (I gave Z a lift), we gossiped about our workmates. She told me that once R comes back from Japan, he plans on sorting his life out (thank God). We both agreed that if we were 23 years old, weren't studying and were working at Officeworks as our main source of income, we would be sincerely concerned.

Apparently, he's thinking of becoming a pilot.

Yes, please.

I've been looking at pictures of cake all weekend. There's something so incredibly incredible about the cut face (yeah, it's getting pathological up in here) of an incredibly moist cake. All my knowledge about food, particularly baked goods, comes from reading copious amounts of food blogs. One of my favourite words learnt is "crumb" to (in fact) describe the crumb of a cake. You know, a fine crumb vs. a coarse crumb. Me, I like a moist crumb so that when you cut through the cake, all the crumbs meld together in this big, moist ball of cakey goodness.

I really want cake now.

I made really good (unhealthy kind) blueberry muffins this weekend for my mum (her favourite and all). I ate half of one today then felt fat (or just incredibly guilty). Because I've been eating rather healthy for the most part lately. Or at least less than usual. I weighed myself the other day. It appears I have lost ~1.5kg. This may be due to reasons such as the elusive "water weight" or other bodily fluids/functions. I choose to believe it's due to my decrease in calories and amped up running schedule. And not because of the really big piss I took not a minute before.

Goodbye. I must now look at more pictures of cake.

J

She's Back

This blog post has made me feel very sad and introspective: http://hyperboleandahalf.blogspot.com.au/2013/05/depression-part-two.html

I am very pleased Allie is back, if even for just one post. I feel very sad that she felt/feels very sad.

We've been learning about depression and other mental illnesses in uni lately. Depression is classified using a pretty concrete criteria. You must have either a depressed mood or anhedonia (lack of interest) and then at least three of some other symptoms (weight changes, sleeping changes, guilt, fatigue, lack of focus etc.).

Obviously, depression can easily manifest itself as losing/gaining weight, being unable to focus and other really annoying things. And if you have depression, you will usually have a depressed mood (I guess...). But it's very strange to read about depression using this criteria where these physical symptoms and random other "feelings" are used as the basis of diagnosis.

Just talking about depression is depressing, frankly. So I must stop now. This post really has no purpose.

J

Suit and Tie

Oh God. Watching The Host again. This is the perfect weather for it.

I freaking love Saiorse Ronan. I'd love to watch Hanna again but it's a movie that has somehow psychologically scarred me. I loved it, I thought it was amazing but a part of it made some deep-lasting impact on me. I don't think I can live through it again. Okay, maybe only for the bits in which Eric Bana is wearing a suit.

J

That Way

I had lunch with a bunch of people I've been pretty much terrified of socially for the last 2.35 years. It started of as just knowing about them. Then Big Michelle became friends with them. Then I started being around them but not introducing myself. But then I spent more time around them (notice how I used the phrase "around them") to the point that introducing myself would just be awkward/weird. And then I started avoiding them which often meant avoiding Big Michelle.

After my psychiatric assessment (not of myself, thanks), I took the bus over to meddent with Big Michelle and Trish. I went to use the computers while they went to the back to study. When it was time to go to the lecture, I went to find them and sitting with them was two of the people I am immensely fearful of. They are basically the two major players in this fear of mine. Particularly the male (who is coincidentally going out with the female). Mostly because he seems like a nice guy but if I ever say something around him, he'll sort of laugh out of politeness but I see this flicker of awkward hesitation in his eyes.

Regardless, I walked up to them (mostly because he'd already seen me and I couldn't walk away). He and his lady friend smiled at me as I approached. This was comforting. I sat down opposite them, next to Trish. We talked about the assessment for a while then walked over together to the lecture. When the lecture finished, Big Michelle said to me, "Okay, let's go get some lunch."

I love that girl a lot. I remember in first and second year when I would cling to her with this desperate sort of fear. I knew she didn't like it. I knew she wanted to go and hang out with different people but still, she would come and sit next to me. I didn't appreciate it at the time. I do now.

I went to have lunch with them. The last time I had "lunch" with them (in which I didn't say a single word), it was the most traumatic experience of my university life. This time, I felt more comfortable. I cracked a "that's what she said" joke about my brolly. They laughed. It wasn't even a condescending, slightly awkward, polite laugh. It felt like I'd cracked a barrier there.

What I want out of this year is just to become acquaintances with everyone. I don't need a best friend. I already have two. I just want acquaintances. People I can sit down next to in a lecture, join them for lunch between classes, walk with them to the next class etc. Because next year, we hit clinical years and I'm so terrified of graduating without getting to know these people.

That's my story for today. I feel this is a triumph for me. It's not spectacular for anyone else but I've honestly spent embarrassing amounts of time feeling humiliated and ashamed about my conduct around these people and what they must think of me. Maybe I wasn't as outgoing and talkative as I could have been but I think it went decently.

Additionally, I think I've become pretty good friends with Chloe. I have this fear of being unwanted and pushing myself on people. But I don't get that from Chloe. It's really nice.

J

Schmear

Just casually, did my first pap smear today. Can't shut up about it because it was so exciting. The vagina is a magical place.

Except now I keep thinking about it and every time I do, I cross my legs involuntarily. I suffer from some extreme intrusive thoughts (such as my recurring fear of falling face first into the brain buckets of last year's anatomy labs) and, whilst I was bent over this poor woman's vagina, I remember wondering what would happen if I accidentally sneezed right at that moment. And for a more extreme intrusive thought, whilst I was inserting the speculum, I wondered what would happen if I accidentally tripped and inserted a bit too far in.

J

Goneski?

I had a near heart attack yesterday when I went to check the work roster and couldn't see R's name anywhere. Anywhere. They have separate rosters for POS, technology, furniture, print & copy etc. I checked every single roster and could not see his name.

This is it, I thought to myself. I knew he wasn't happy with the number of hours they were giving him (too many). I wasn't sure if he was going to quit before he went to Japan. But I was sure he would stay on until he left for Japan to make more money for his trip. I had it all planned out in my head (quite sadly, actually. I vowed to myself I'd tell him before he left) and then, in a few short seconds, it was all coming crumbling down.

No more R? Quit? Not on the roster? Gone, gone forever? Gone, goneskis, foreverskis?

It was a kind of emotional moment for me. Standing in the staff room and freaking out (later, I freaked out more because I was told they still had leftover chocolate cake in the fridge but I'd already taken my break). At the same time, I was kind of relieved. This is a disturbing pattern in my history of crushes. There's always been some reason for me to stop liking a person (such as finding out he is gay or a straight-up bogan) and, when I find this out, I'm overwhelmed by this feeling of immense relief like I can breathe again. What's up with that?

So, there I was. Freaking out. And then I saw his name pencilled in for a few random days (not his usual schedule). What? What? What's going on? I was sincerely confused. Why was his name pencilled in like that? Had he quit and then they'd asked him to help out for a few days until they found someone else?

I told myself I would ask someone if he'd quit. I was going to ask A, my architecture friend (sorry, Little Mishelle) who seems to know a lot. But, before I could do that, I was standing with K, R's bff, in the manager's office, looking for something. There, on the manager's desk planner, was a little cartoon of a robot.

"Aw, there's R's drawing," said K.
"Cute," I said. "Does he still work here?" It came out very quickly. I had to seize the opportunity of bringing the topic up while it was still relevant.
"Yeah, he does. He just works at print & copy all the time which is why you never see him."

And then, the most sumptuous relief ever. More relieving than the weird feeling of relief I felt earlier when I thought he'd left.

How can I go on like this?

/dramatic

J

That's Rubbish!

I had the worst dream last night. In it, everyone was telling me why they didn't like me and what they really thought of me. It wasn't just people I knew and had spoken to but all those randoms in my med class who I've never spoken to but know of/have seen around. Coming up to me and telling me why I was rubbish.

J

He Could Have Been My Husband

I caught this guy looking at me on the bus today (not to toot my own horn but I was werqing my skater dress) and my mind immediately jumped to, "Oh, my God. He's going to get off at the same stop as me and rape me." Thankfully, he got off earlier (that's what she said. Except for the thankfully part. In fact, the whole thing doesn't really make sense).

He was Jewish too. I could tell because I have a keen eye for Jewish people. No, it was because he was wearing a kippah (and hells yeah, I just looked that up on wiki. I need to start my research before I meet my future husband).

J

Why Did I Just Do That?

Dad just came home with two boxes of Carman's nut bars. I love Carman's muesli bars! But these nut bars contain peanuts. For a while I was mad. Why would you buy bars containing peanuts when 50% of the people in the household don't eat peanuts? Then I just decided, "Fuck it, let me try some. Maybe I've gotten over my (mild) peanut allergy."

Nope, still there. Now, my mouth is itching like a thirsty bitch and I'm feeling ill.

J

Lionel Richie - "Hello"

Yo, what the fuck? I like this song but this vidjeo is kind of concerning:



J

Update on The Sitch

Tickets have been officially been booked for Europe. We're leaving near the end of November and coming back just before Christmas. It was a mad hectic rush. It was my dad and I who were booking for the others and we must've sat in front of the computer for five hours trying to figure shit out. It's like they don't want our money.

But I'm pleased now. With concrete dates, we can finally start organizing a real itinerary, transport, accommodation, any holiday periods at tourist attractions etc. Maybe I will take up German so I can pretend to be a German tourist in France. French people hate German people less than other tourists, right? They're basically the same so...

In other news, I was sitting in a lecture with a friend, Francesca, and another guy, a GEMP I'd met in passing the other night at the quiz night. It was pretty chill and what have you. After the lecture finished, Francesca, GEMP and I walked together for a few minutes. Outside of that hellhole (I really don't like lectures) I became more animated and comfortable, started joking around. GEMP suddenly says to me, "Wow, so you actually smile and joke and are nice!"

I think my face froze. I just felt this deep, immense fear in me.

"What do you mean?" I asked.
"I mean, the other times I've seen you in passing you never smile and just looked kind of mean," he said. Not in a cruel way. This guy is just incredibly candid. I kind of appreciated it.
"Seriously? I think my face is just naturally bitchy..."
He laughed. I laugh-cried a little. We talked about it more. I cried inside a bit more.

It just sucks because now I keep thinking about what everyone else thinks about me. I was ranting to Meg about this yesterday... Sometimes, I don't smile much with new people because I don't want to appear overenthusiastic. I want to appear calm and cool and not clingy/too keen. Now I realize that I probably just look like a sour bitch. It's the same with joking. I get so shy, horribly anxious and uncomfortable that I forget how to joke. I actually stop talking full-stop and just stand there awkwardly, waiting for the interaction to pass.

This sucks. It's good at the same time because at least one person doesn't think I'm a bitch anymore. Now, I have to just start eliminating every other person I've met in the last three years or so.

J