This is a near exact transcript of the conversation I had with Little Mishelle earlier this evening. If you're reading this, Little Mishelle, then stop because you will be bored.
I swear R was about to ask me out today. I swear it. It got quiet in the afternoon. While I was serving a customer, R came up and started serving with me. He is either at print & copy or technology, rarely check out. Good sign, right? Obviously, he is intoxicated by my scent and can't keep away. He finishes serving his customer whilst I'm still serving mine. Then he wanders over to my side of the counter and just kind of stands there. I glance back and give him my set of awesome raised brows (ya'll know I give good ones) and say, "What's up?"
"Oh, nothing!" he says.
I finish serving then turn to him and say, "Seriously, what's up?" He is acting strange.
"Nothing... So, what are you doing this weekend?"
Aw shit.
"Um, not much. I think I'm going to see World War Z tonight."
"Oh, the one about the zombies?" he asks.
"Yeah. What about you?"
"I'm going to Supanova tomorrow!"
"How exciting!" I say.
We talk about it. His smile is intoxicating. He is so happy like a child on Christmas morning.
There was a moment where I felt it coming, I swear. And then it turns out he just wanted a reason to bring up his plans to go to Supanova. Damn, son. Stop teasing me.
J
About Me
- Junaberry
- I'm a student from Australia who used to have a lot of time on her hands but doesn't have that much anymore. Now she has other stuff on her hands.
Saturday, June 29, 2013
Friday, June 28, 2013
Don't Touch My Yoghurt
This relationship just makes the world a better place: http://ohnotheydidnt.livejournal.com/79097839.html#cutid1
I went shopping with my mum today and bought a maroon cargo jacket for $14.95. It is the same as Big Michelle's khaki one but obviously a different colour. I am so sorry for purchasing the same style, Big Michelle. But it was on sale, the last one in my size and a colour I really like. At least they are very different colours. However, I believe they are non-descript and common enough for it to not appear like we are wearing the same jacket. Let us not forget the brown pleather debacle of 2011:
Speaking of jackets, my love for pleather jackets continues to rage on. Whenever I see one, I just want to buy it. Especially if it is under $20. I am still on the hunt for the perfect one. My beige one is too short, my black one with the shearling collar is a little too tight around the shoulders but too lose around the torso and my latest black moto one is super comfortable but too big for me. It is a hard life, I agree. See for yourself:
I have officially lost 5kg and halfway to my goal. I am pleased but my dad continues to piss me off by commenting on my eating habits. Before I lost weight, he used to say things like, "Oh, you shouldn't eat so much yoghurt. It is fattening. I am telling you this because I know you are trying to lose weight," even though I wasn't actively trying to lose weight, I just really like yoghurt. Which basically translates to, "You could use to lose a few kilos." Now, he still says stuff like, "Don't eat so much yoghurt. It is fattening." Excuse me, my diet is finally in control and in moderation. I can always anticipate when a comment about my eating habits or weight are coming and I just want to stand up and leave when I sense it.
I am off to model my maroon cargo jacket in front of the mirror now. I hope you are having a lovely day.
J
I went shopping with my mum today and bought a maroon cargo jacket for $14.95. It is the same as Big Michelle's khaki one but obviously a different colour. I am so sorry for purchasing the same style, Big Michelle. But it was on sale, the last one in my size and a colour I really like. At least they are very different colours. However, I believe they are non-descript and common enough for it to not appear like we are wearing the same jacket. Let us not forget the brown pleather debacle of 2011:
I have officially lost 5kg and halfway to my goal. I am pleased but my dad continues to piss me off by commenting on my eating habits. Before I lost weight, he used to say things like, "Oh, you shouldn't eat so much yoghurt. It is fattening. I am telling you this because I know you are trying to lose weight," even though I wasn't actively trying to lose weight, I just really like yoghurt. Which basically translates to, "You could use to lose a few kilos." Now, he still says stuff like, "Don't eat so much yoghurt. It is fattening." Excuse me, my diet is finally in control and in moderation. I can always anticipate when a comment about my eating habits or weight are coming and I just want to stand up and leave when I sense it.
I am off to model my maroon cargo jacket in front of the mirror now. I hope you are having a lovely day.
J
Thursday, June 27, 2013
My 97th Commandment
From Prada to Nada.
The title alone. We've all heard of this movie at some point, yes? It stars Alex Vega and Camilla Belle (who my brother thinks is beautiful. I don't know why I felt like adding that). I know what I thought when I heard about it; dreadful, poisonous, Alex Vega of Spy Kids fame, Camilla Belle of Chumscrubber fame (to be fair, The Chumscrubber is actually a really good movie) and of Better Than Revenge fame (she's better known for the things that she does on the mattress, oh whoa).
But then I watched it yesterday night because I was desperate for something of the romantic and comedic persuasion. Plus, it's based on Sense & Sensibility (the book is boring but the Ang Lee version made me weep tears that only Jane Austen can elicit from me. That's a lie; I cry at everything).
So, I watched it. And, my friends, it is easily one of the better rom coms I have watched this year. Hell, it's barely a rom com. It's more a "family drama" (even though I hate family dramas). You know how I always harp on about wanting to be Jewish? After watching this movie, I want to be Mexican. It's like a Mexican version of Bend It Like Beckham but without creepy Joe. Not to mention the fantastic comedic efforts of Alex Vega who, despite playing a very cookie cut out character, was borderline hilarious. Not in a shitting myself with laughter sense but her little nuances were top class. Her physical comedy was good too.
Additionally, Wilmer Valderrama. He was supposed to be playing a hot, thuggish neighbour type. I struggled with this as I have grown up watching him as Fez, the horny exchange student from an unknown but surely exotic locale. Regardless, he played the role decently.
Camilla Belle lacked much of a personality but I thought she made a really hot nerd and a good foil to Alex Vega's comic goodness. And she had decent chemistry with the guy that played Edward Ferrars.
All in all, it was a very good movie. So good, in fact, that I watched it again tonight then had to go back to watching scenes between Camilla Belle and Edward Ferrars. Then I got lazy to pause so I'm watching it right now as I write this post.
I leave you with these words and my 97th Commandment:
Do not judgeth a book by its cover.
J
The title alone. We've all heard of this movie at some point, yes? It stars Alex Vega and Camilla Belle (who my brother thinks is beautiful. I don't know why I felt like adding that). I know what I thought when I heard about it; dreadful, poisonous, Alex Vega of Spy Kids fame, Camilla Belle of Chumscrubber fame (to be fair, The Chumscrubber is actually a really good movie) and of Better Than Revenge fame (she's better known for the things that she does on the mattress, oh whoa).
But then I watched it yesterday night because I was desperate for something of the romantic and comedic persuasion. Plus, it's based on Sense & Sensibility (the book is boring but the Ang Lee version made me weep tears that only Jane Austen can elicit from me. That's a lie; I cry at everything).
So, I watched it. And, my friends, it is easily one of the better rom coms I have watched this year. Hell, it's barely a rom com. It's more a "family drama" (even though I hate family dramas). You know how I always harp on about wanting to be Jewish? After watching this movie, I want to be Mexican. It's like a Mexican version of Bend It Like Beckham but without creepy Joe. Not to mention the fantastic comedic efforts of Alex Vega who, despite playing a very cookie cut out character, was borderline hilarious. Not in a shitting myself with laughter sense but her little nuances were top class. Her physical comedy was good too.
Additionally, Wilmer Valderrama. He was supposed to be playing a hot, thuggish neighbour type. I struggled with this as I have grown up watching him as Fez, the horny exchange student from an unknown but surely exotic locale. Regardless, he played the role decently.
Camilla Belle lacked much of a personality but I thought she made a really hot nerd and a good foil to Alex Vega's comic goodness. And she had decent chemistry with the guy that played Edward Ferrars.
All in all, it was a very good movie. So good, in fact, that I watched it again tonight then had to go back to watching scenes between Camilla Belle and Edward Ferrars. Then I got lazy to pause so I'm watching it right now as I write this post.
I leave you with these words and my 97th Commandment:
Do not judgeth a book by its cover.
J
Wednesday, June 26, 2013
Yes, We Can
I am watching the Mexican version of Sense & Sensibility and it is awesome.
No comment on the Rudd Return.
J
No comment on the Rudd Return.
J
We Young Right Now
Today, I went ice skating with a bunch of people, most of whom I've never spoken to. Then I went to someone's house for lunch where they all loved my choc chip Oreo cookies. There's a blister the size of a small dessert plate on my left foot and I ate way too much and now feel sick. But I feel so happy. I talked to them, introduced myself, had laughs with them, made new friends. I didn't feel awkward or anxiety ridden at any time. I just felt normal and kind of free. It was really, really good.
During the car ride home, I started crying whilst listening to Paramore on the radio. But they were tears of joy. I think I proved to myself that I actually have the ability to be a socially active person. Chloe initiated a mobile phone number exchange (I know; shocking that my bff and I didn't have each others' numbers until today) and we've been texting about caramel slice this afternoon.
I'm happy.
Oh, and here's a pictures of my mangled foot. Let me tell you, my shower after that was not pleasant:
J
During the car ride home, I started crying whilst listening to Paramore on the radio. But they were tears of joy. I think I proved to myself that I actually have the ability to be a socially active person. Chloe initiated a mobile phone number exchange (I know; shocking that my bff and I didn't have each others' numbers until today) and we've been texting about caramel slice this afternoon.
I'm happy.
Oh, and here's a pictures of my mangled foot. Let me tell you, my shower after that was not pleasant:
J
Tuesday, June 25, 2013
My Saddest Post Yet
Sometimes, I get concerned about my feelings towards food. I love it so much that I wonder if there is any space left in my heart for a life partner? However, there will always be space in my stomach for cake.
I ate so much froyo today. It was delicious. I topped it with Oreo bits (wisest decision of my life), Tim Tam bits (good), Fruit Loops (stale), Coco Pops (coco poppingly good), mini marshmallows (as always, I was disappointed. Every time!) and I think that was it. Then I came home and made choc chip Oreo cookies. I purposely left bits in the bowl and on the spoon so I could eat the raw cookie dough while the cookies were baking.
See what I mean? No more room left in my heart for men. Honestly, if you gave me the choice of never being able to eat again (as in, eat food but I still survive even without it) or never finding love, I would probably give up love.
Food is my one true love.
J
I ate so much froyo today. It was delicious. I topped it with Oreo bits (wisest decision of my life), Tim Tam bits (good), Fruit Loops (stale), Coco Pops (coco poppingly good), mini marshmallows (as always, I was disappointed. Every time!) and I think that was it. Then I came home and made choc chip Oreo cookies. I purposely left bits in the bowl and on the spoon so I could eat the raw cookie dough while the cookies were baking.
See what I mean? No more room left in my heart for men. Honestly, if you gave me the choice of never being able to eat again (as in, eat food but I still survive even without it) or never finding love, I would probably give up love.
Food is my one true love.
J
Nigellisima
Damn, she is the finest woman I've ever seen:
Those eyes, that skin, that smile, the hair!
Except I once saw her spray perfume in her hair in one of her shows and I distinctly remember her saying in an interview that she only washes her hair once a week or something like that... I'm trying hard to avoid thinking about the stench that may or may not emanate from that head of luscious hair. Oh well, at least she has an abundance of natural oils to keep her hair shiny and lush.
J
Monday, June 24, 2013
I Borrowed Dear John From The Library
I saw R at work the other day. Turns out we are both flying out (him to Japan, me to London) on the same day. I told him about my trip to Europe. He joked about me hooking up with Italian men. I laughed and smiled then felt sad inside.
I have deep seeded, sad, pathetic, single girl fears that no one will ever love me. Sometimes, I look in the mirror and think, "Well, no wonder no one loves you. Look at you." I know logically that I am not repulsive nor am I particularly attractive. I am very much the definition of a very average looking girl. I also know logically that most people are average looking people and most people find partners and happiness and romance.
It is all just very stupid. I need to get over this stuff. Finding a romantic partner is not the most important thing in the world. It is not even the second most important thing in the world.
J
I have deep seeded, sad, pathetic, single girl fears that no one will ever love me. Sometimes, I look in the mirror and think, "Well, no wonder no one loves you. Look at you." I know logically that I am not repulsive nor am I particularly attractive. I am very much the definition of a very average looking girl. I also know logically that most people are average looking people and most people find partners and happiness and romance.
It is all just very stupid. I need to get over this stuff. Finding a romantic partner is not the most important thing in the world. It is not even the second most important thing in the world.
J
I Enjoy These Things
I really like this outfit (http://theclothes.blogspot.com.au/2012/08/surface-of-globe.html). That's a t-shirt with the map of the world! Ingenious. I insist that in future years I will get a tattoo of the world map on a part of my anatomy (that is easy to view so I will never get lost):
I really like this interview:
I hope you're enjoying your holidays!
J
I really like this performance:
I really like this interview:
I hope you're enjoying your holidays!
J
Sunday, June 23, 2013
You Guys Are Cute
I really love Dawn Porter (or O'Porter as she is now known). She did some great documentaries and random things a few years ago that I recently got into. And she is married to Chris O'Dowd which is just magical to me. Because I found him so repugnant in Girls (I dry retched at the idea of Jessa and him having the sex) but so adorable in Bridesmaids.
Together, they are like a chasm of glitter and British countryside romps:
J
Together, they are like a chasm of glitter and British countryside romps:
J
Saturday, June 22, 2013
Careful
Hearing about and seeing pictures from the Veronica Mars Movie set is giving me weird feelings. This should basically be my wet dream; you know how I get when my favourite TV shows end or characters leave. This movie should be filling me with weird levels of closure. But I feel as though it may potentially be really bad (what's up with all these characters coming back? I don't want it to be forced so they sacrifice storyline just to get everyone back) but please, prove me wrong. And I will feel even more empty after I finish watching this movie.
Other than these thoughts, I have been spending too much money over the last 1.5 days that I have officially escaped uni. I went shopping with my mum after my resit (which went really well, thanks for asking!) and bought various things including a skirt, a handbag from Target (that my mother called "ugly" as soon as she laid eyes on it. I ignored her), a pair of flats (also from my newly beloved, Target) and then, this morning, I bought three $3 t-shirts from K-Mart. Yes, I have returned to you, Kutting Edge K-Mart.
J
Other than these thoughts, I have been spending too much money over the last 1.5 days that I have officially escaped uni. I went shopping with my mum after my resit (which went really well, thanks for asking!) and bought various things including a skirt, a handbag from Target (that my mother called "ugly" as soon as she laid eyes on it. I ignored her), a pair of flats (also from my newly beloved, Target) and then, this morning, I bought three $3 t-shirts from K-Mart. Yes, I have returned to you, Kutting Edge K-Mart.
J
Thursday, June 20, 2013
The Most Embarrassing Thing
That title is completely false advertising. What happened to me today is nowhere near the most embarrassing thing that has ever happened to me. I can think of a thousand things more embarrassing than this. That time I farted in the back of Helen's sister's car (I freely admit this now, some 7.5 years later), this one time I was playing downball and staggered backwards, eventually landing on my ass, that time I sneezed in year eight sewing class and a bunch of blood came out of of my nose and all over my shirt.
I mean, there's really a plethora of embarrassing moments in my relatively brief existence thus far that I can choose from.
But today, I choose to tell you about this one. The time I was the only one out of a class of 200+ people to fail an assessment. Part of me is slightly embarrassed then part of me is not because I don't think it's really anything to be embarrassed about. To be disappointed about, sure. But embarrassed? Nah.
I had to go to remediation this morning (basically, you go in and a tutor helps you through your questions and the various physical examinations you can get tested on). It was at 10.30am. I walked in. Hm, that's odd. It's very quiet in here. Well, it is holidays. Maybe all the staff are on break.
I sit in the lobby for five or so minutes. I'm early so this is no shock to me (I think half my life has been waiting so far; I'm always ridiculously early to everything). Eventually, I walk around in case everyone's already there and I'm just hilariously oblivious. I find the head of clinical skills writing some stuff on a board in one of the tutorial rooms.
"Is this remediation?" I ask.
"Yup! Come on in."
I sit down. He goes through my marking sheet with me (oh God, this was honestly horrifying. I never go through marking sheets because I hate seeing everything I did wrong. I hate doing this when I pass an assessment, let alone when I fail. I refused to look at the comments I got for my driving test. Me and criticism do not generally bode well. I realize this is a fault of mine). He is very nice and patient.
It's 10.40am now. No one else is here. We start going through the shoulder exam. And then the knee. Then lumbar spine. Finally, someone else shows up. He hasn't failed his assessment; he just postponed it for some reason. You only have to go to remediation if you failed the assessment. I looked at the list of people sitting the exam tomorrow with me the other day. There's maybe seven or eight.
I realize, as time passes, that everyone else sitting the exam tomorrow has postponed their exam or missed it the first time around for some reason. I am the only one that has failed. I should have known this when I walked into the room and Craig, the tutor man, said to me, "Junaberry?"
Yes, yes, it is me.
Nonetheless, I actually felt really privileged to basically spend a private tuition session with Craig. It sucks that I failed so hard (and I mean failed hard. I won't go into details because they're horrifying but let's just say the words "danger to the patient" were used at one point in my marking sheet. I'm not even joking) but Craig was so nice, patient and explained everything so thoroughly. It was also really nice being tutored by the head of clinical skills which meant that his word was the true word. All the tutors do things in slightly different ways and then you practice with someone from another tute and find out it's all different. Then you stress. And, if you're me, fail your assessment.
We are rapidly drawing to the end of my story. I thanked Craig and David (the model patient. I feel bad they got in a model patient for one student... but he probably got paid and he walked in with a biscuit so it looks like he got a free morning tea as well) and left. I wandered around the city while waiting for my bus, bought a falafel wrap from Coles (the prepared food at the Coles in Raine Square is exquisite. To be fair, I have only tried the pesto chicken wrap and falafel wrap so far but both were worthy of entering my gob) then took the bus home. That's when I overheated and got the worse headache of my life. Whilst listening to Hamish & Andy podcasts on my phone. So I had a terrible headache while holding back snickers.
I nearly imploded on that bus ride home.
But I am home now. And I am bearing a $3.48 white lace (half lace, at least) peplum top I bought from Target. All is well in the world. I feel I am ready to kick my assessment tomorrow in the shins. I don't think I've ever felt so clinically knowledgeable in all my life. I want my examiners to think to themselves, "What the? How on earth did this girl fail? SHE IS A GIFT TO THE MEDICAL WORLD."
That is all. Go back to your business.
J
I mean, there's really a plethora of embarrassing moments in my relatively brief existence thus far that I can choose from.
But today, I choose to tell you about this one. The time I was the only one out of a class of 200+ people to fail an assessment. Part of me is slightly embarrassed then part of me is not because I don't think it's really anything to be embarrassed about. To be disappointed about, sure. But embarrassed? Nah.
I had to go to remediation this morning (basically, you go in and a tutor helps you through your questions and the various physical examinations you can get tested on). It was at 10.30am. I walked in. Hm, that's odd. It's very quiet in here. Well, it is holidays. Maybe all the staff are on break.
I sit in the lobby for five or so minutes. I'm early so this is no shock to me (I think half my life has been waiting so far; I'm always ridiculously early to everything). Eventually, I walk around in case everyone's already there and I'm just hilariously oblivious. I find the head of clinical skills writing some stuff on a board in one of the tutorial rooms.
"Is this remediation?" I ask.
"Yup! Come on in."
I sit down. He goes through my marking sheet with me (oh God, this was honestly horrifying. I never go through marking sheets because I hate seeing everything I did wrong. I hate doing this when I pass an assessment, let alone when I fail. I refused to look at the comments I got for my driving test. Me and criticism do not generally bode well. I realize this is a fault of mine). He is very nice and patient.
It's 10.40am now. No one else is here. We start going through the shoulder exam. And then the knee. Then lumbar spine. Finally, someone else shows up. He hasn't failed his assessment; he just postponed it for some reason. You only have to go to remediation if you failed the assessment. I looked at the list of people sitting the exam tomorrow with me the other day. There's maybe seven or eight.
I realize, as time passes, that everyone else sitting the exam tomorrow has postponed their exam or missed it the first time around for some reason. I am the only one that has failed. I should have known this when I walked into the room and Craig, the tutor man, said to me, "Junaberry?"
Yes, yes, it is me.
Nonetheless, I actually felt really privileged to basically spend a private tuition session with Craig. It sucks that I failed so hard (and I mean failed hard. I won't go into details because they're horrifying but let's just say the words "danger to the patient" were used at one point in my marking sheet. I'm not even joking) but Craig was so nice, patient and explained everything so thoroughly. It was also really nice being tutored by the head of clinical skills which meant that his word was the true word. All the tutors do things in slightly different ways and then you practice with someone from another tute and find out it's all different. Then you stress. And, if you're me, fail your assessment.
We are rapidly drawing to the end of my story. I thanked Craig and David (the model patient. I feel bad they got in a model patient for one student... but he probably got paid and he walked in with a biscuit so it looks like he got a free morning tea as well) and left. I wandered around the city while waiting for my bus, bought a falafel wrap from Coles (the prepared food at the Coles in Raine Square is exquisite. To be fair, I have only tried the pesto chicken wrap and falafel wrap so far but both were worthy of entering my gob) then took the bus home. That's when I overheated and got the worse headache of my life. Whilst listening to Hamish & Andy podcasts on my phone. So I had a terrible headache while holding back snickers.
I nearly imploded on that bus ride home.
But I am home now. And I am bearing a $3.48 white lace (half lace, at least) peplum top I bought from Target. All is well in the world. I feel I am ready to kick my assessment tomorrow in the shins. I don't think I've ever felt so clinically knowledgeable in all my life. I want my examiners to think to themselves, "What the? How on earth did this girl fail? SHE IS A GIFT TO THE MEDICAL WORLD."
That is all. Go back to your business.
J
Tuesday, June 18, 2013
Long Ass Rant
All this talk about Edward Cullen (and therefore Twilight) has made me feel all reminisce-y, warm and fuzzy inside. In honour of that, I want to write a list of things I want to accomplish this holiday in honour of the first one I did before the year 12 holidays.
Before I get into that, I want to talk about how having to resit the musculoskeletal clinical skills assessment is destroying my life. I got invited to a campfire at my new bff, Chloe's, house in the hills this Thursday. As an end of exam celebration and all. I was so excited; I was already planning on buying tonnes of marshmallows (because I love marshmallows... Or at least I think I do then I buy them and realize I actually really dislike them). And then I got an email this morning that I have to go to remediation on Thursday and the resit is on Friday morning. Which means I can't go to the campfire and eat lots of toasted marshmallows.
Sigh. I'm actually pretty devastated. Anyway, I told this to Chloe and we exchanged our mutual disappointment. Instead, I invited her to go rockclimbing with Francesca and I later this holiday and she sounded keen. This was encouraging.
Why else is this failure of mine ruining my life? I was supposed to go shopping with my mum on Friday to hit the stocktake sales. Now my resit has ruined this entire plan. I'm being dramatic; we're still shopping but we're meeting in the city after I finish my resit. Which is good because it'll be close to 11pm by then and a totally acceptable lunchtime. Anything that brings me closer to mealtimes is a good thing in my book. I'm so excited to go shopping. I'm such a girl but I love the luxury and excitement of a newly bought garment. And shoes. I'm also loving my new lace-up boots I bought from Target a few weeks back. They are comfortable as shit, awesome grip, exemplify all-round badassery and I'm channeling Daria so hard in them.
Okay, I know that every girl and her best friend has a pair of lace-up, wannabe Doc Martens. But just shut up. I've wanted lace-up boots since I was about 13 and started getting into Evanescence. See, Amy Lee has these sick pair of knee high lace-up boots (I think she's still wearing the same ones some 10 years later) and she inspired me to get my own. Then Caitlyn got some for her 13th or 14th birthday (I forget) and I was completely enchanted. They were from Spendless Shoes if you must know. They were $50. I remember all these details because I was obsessed. I demanded my mother bring me to Spendless so I could spend less on these boots (I thought $50 was pretty cheap for a pair of such spectacular boots even though that was a helluva lot of money for me back in those days).
We went. I tried them on. I looked ridiculous. I almost bought them anyway because I had already made my mine up before we went. Fortunately, I didn't. Since then, I have bought over $50 worth of McDonald's soft serve so I think it's a fair trade.
This post was intended to be a list of sick things to do this holidays but it has not transpired to be so. Quick, I have to fulfill that promise:
1. Go rockclimbing with my new bff. When I first found out I'd failed the musculoskeletal exam, Chloe asked me about it the next time she saw me because she remembered me being stressed out and upset after I did it, thinking (accurately) that I'd failed. I told her and she offered to help me practice after exams and was very sweet and encouraging. I was so touched. However, I also remember that Big Michelle texted me literally a few hours after I blogged about it offering to help me practice and generally being incredibly supportive. Even though I am sure she was incredibly stressed with exam preparations (as she always is). So, whilst I jokingly refer to Chloe as my new bff, my true bffls have forever & always (Taylor Swift style) been there for me.
2. Plan for Europe. Hard style. There is so much booking and money to be spent this holidays. It's going to take a hit on my bank account like cray but I'm really excited to actually put plans into practice.
3. Eat lots of buy one, get one free Baskin & Robbins.
4. Eat lots of burgers.
5. Catch up with UWA Kiddos. Must involve that new froyo place in Warwick because we've literally been talking about this since last holidays. Which was about 14-15 weeks ago. Also, they have melon flavour. While I usually hate fresh melon (rockmelon tastes like rock), melon froyo is so enticing to me for some reason. I just imagine it tasting really mellow and smooth.
6. Exercise and eat healthy. I haven't run in almost a week (on Thursday) because I've been trying to repair my injured left leg. First, it was shin splints. Next, I started feeling a muscle strain in both of my inner thighs (and it wasn't from other activities either. I wish). Finally, my left knee started hurting quite sharply. I've always had troubles with my knees (or at least I pretend I do because my crepitus is amazing and my knee caps are as nubile as a fresh gymnast virgin) so I decided enough was enough. I had to take a break from running otherwise I was going to injure myself more seriously. So I haven't run for almost a week and my leg is feeling a lot better. Coolest story ever. God, I'm like fucking Hans Christian Andersen.
7. Make fish tacos. I just really want to make fish tacos.
8. Watch Man of Steel. Because he has a nice chest? That's reason enough. Yeah.
9. Watch a late night movie. Like, late late night. And then sleepover and gossip with girls. Sleepover Club style. Just really hardcore badassery like you've never seen it before. I wish I had my own soft serve/froyo machine. God, that would be great. And a fantastic source of income as well. Don't worry, Little Mishelle. I'd give you at least a 10% discount.
10. Invite Wynn and Sarah over for another period drama sesh. Unfortunately, I can't even think of what to watch. Usually, I have a pretty lengthy list of movies to watch. But that has been slowly depleting.
11. Get jiggy with R.
That's the list so far. As my final topic of discussion, I want to bitch about work the other day. They only scheduled three people plus one manager to work all of Sunday. And that manager stayed in her office all day. So there were only three people on the entire floor all day. And I only worked 11am-3pm so for two hours there were only two people on the floor.
At one point, the guy doing technology/furniture (yes, both. Zoe and I were both at POS because we don't know how to do the rest of the stuff) went on lunch. Customers started asking for furniture help and technology help. The manager was no help at all. Literally, she doesn't know how to do anything and just hid in her office all day even though we were dying out there.
I took it upon myself to help out with furniture because I'm such an outstanding citizen (seriously, I have many testimonials all over my facebook wall to prove this). It took me half an hour to help one lady. She wanted to return this table. Then she wanted to exchange it for this massive glass table. I have no idea where they keep the furniture flatpacks or if there's a system. It took me 15 minutes to find the right one. Two boxes, 25-30kg each. No one to help me. Just me and a trolley. I'm pretty sure I jacked my knee trying to carry those boxes.
Thankfully, the lady was super nice and patient. She helped me with moving the boxes around and was very appreciative of my help, realizing I was filling in for furniture help because we were fucking deserted.
In the time I was helping that lady, at least five other customers asked me for help with big things like, "Hey, can you get me that massive desk from the back and hey, what sort of cable do I need to attach this very vague description of a technological item to this other non-existent technological item?" I told them all I couldn't, I was with another customer. There was this one lady who I told I would help after this lady. Every time I walked past, she just glared at me. We got two written customer complaints that day.
I forgot to mention (maybe?) the best part. R called in sick so print & copy was closed. For the whole day. No print & copy for a whole Sunday because the one guy they had scheduled on for the whole day was sick. I'm pretty sure there's some protocol that you need at least two people there. I mean, what about lunch breaks? Who covers the other person then?
I had one old guy come up to me and complain that it was absolutely ridiculous that print & copy was closed because the guy was sick. That we should have called in a replacement immediately. I nodded.
"I absolutely agree. It's ridiculous," I said.
"I need help with the photocopiers! What are you going to do about it?!"
"I'll send over my manager and she can help you," I said, knowing full well she has no idea how to work the photocopiers.
I didn't end up sending the manager over because I was hauling 50kg of desks and glass around the store and forgot. I'm pretty sure he was one of the customer complaints.
The thing that kills me is that there is so much hate directed to the lowly floor staff and check out girls because the store is consistently understaffed. I am fully aware the store is understaffed. I am aware of this every time a customer chucks a shit at me (which happens at least once every hour) because they have to wait for help from a technology or furniture guy. And every time I have to bounce a call around on hold for 15 minutes until they hang up with some choice words when I ask them if I can take a message instead and get the guys to call them back.
Please, complain to the managers so they'll actually do something.
The store has gone downhill so hard ever since most of the old managers left. It's killing me. My devotion to Officeworks is waning. Work is exhausting now. I've come home crying twice from stress now. Hello, I don't think check out chicks are supposed to be driven to tears by their crappy job.
J
Before I get into that, I want to talk about how having to resit the musculoskeletal clinical skills assessment is destroying my life. I got invited to a campfire at my new bff, Chloe's, house in the hills this Thursday. As an end of exam celebration and all. I was so excited; I was already planning on buying tonnes of marshmallows (because I love marshmallows... Or at least I think I do then I buy them and realize I actually really dislike them). And then I got an email this morning that I have to go to remediation on Thursday and the resit is on Friday morning. Which means I can't go to the campfire and eat lots of toasted marshmallows.
Sigh. I'm actually pretty devastated. Anyway, I told this to Chloe and we exchanged our mutual disappointment. Instead, I invited her to go rockclimbing with Francesca and I later this holiday and she sounded keen. This was encouraging.
Why else is this failure of mine ruining my life? I was supposed to go shopping with my mum on Friday to hit the stocktake sales. Now my resit has ruined this entire plan. I'm being dramatic; we're still shopping but we're meeting in the city after I finish my resit. Which is good because it'll be close to 11pm by then and a totally acceptable lunchtime. Anything that brings me closer to mealtimes is a good thing in my book. I'm so excited to go shopping. I'm such a girl but I love the luxury and excitement of a newly bought garment. And shoes. I'm also loving my new lace-up boots I bought from Target a few weeks back. They are comfortable as shit, awesome grip, exemplify all-round badassery and I'm channeling Daria so hard in them.
Okay, I know that every girl and her best friend has a pair of lace-up, wannabe Doc Martens. But just shut up. I've wanted lace-up boots since I was about 13 and started getting into Evanescence. See, Amy Lee has these sick pair of knee high lace-up boots (I think she's still wearing the same ones some 10 years later) and she inspired me to get my own. Then Caitlyn got some for her 13th or 14th birthday (I forget) and I was completely enchanted. They were from Spendless Shoes if you must know. They were $50. I remember all these details because I was obsessed. I demanded my mother bring me to Spendless so I could spend less on these boots (I thought $50 was pretty cheap for a pair of such spectacular boots even though that was a helluva lot of money for me back in those days).
We went. I tried them on. I looked ridiculous. I almost bought them anyway because I had already made my mine up before we went. Fortunately, I didn't. Since then, I have bought over $50 worth of McDonald's soft serve so I think it's a fair trade.
This post was intended to be a list of sick things to do this holidays but it has not transpired to be so. Quick, I have to fulfill that promise:
1. Go rockclimbing with my new bff. When I first found out I'd failed the musculoskeletal exam, Chloe asked me about it the next time she saw me because she remembered me being stressed out and upset after I did it, thinking (accurately) that I'd failed. I told her and she offered to help me practice after exams and was very sweet and encouraging. I was so touched. However, I also remember that Big Michelle texted me literally a few hours after I blogged about it offering to help me practice and generally being incredibly supportive. Even though I am sure she was incredibly stressed with exam preparations (as she always is). So, whilst I jokingly refer to Chloe as my new bff, my true bffls have forever & always (Taylor Swift style) been there for me.
2. Plan for Europe. Hard style. There is so much booking and money to be spent this holidays. It's going to take a hit on my bank account like cray but I'm really excited to actually put plans into practice.
3. Eat lots of buy one, get one free Baskin & Robbins.
4. Eat lots of burgers.
5. Catch up with UWA Kiddos. Must involve that new froyo place in Warwick because we've literally been talking about this since last holidays. Which was about 14-15 weeks ago. Also, they have melon flavour. While I usually hate fresh melon (rockmelon tastes like rock), melon froyo is so enticing to me for some reason. I just imagine it tasting really mellow and smooth.
6. Exercise and eat healthy. I haven't run in almost a week (on Thursday) because I've been trying to repair my injured left leg. First, it was shin splints. Next, I started feeling a muscle strain in both of my inner thighs (and it wasn't from other activities either. I wish). Finally, my left knee started hurting quite sharply. I've always had troubles with my knees (or at least I pretend I do because my crepitus is amazing and my knee caps are as nubile as a fresh gymnast virgin) so I decided enough was enough. I had to take a break from running otherwise I was going to injure myself more seriously. So I haven't run for almost a week and my leg is feeling a lot better. Coolest story ever. God, I'm like fucking Hans Christian Andersen.
7. Make fish tacos. I just really want to make fish tacos.
8. Watch Man of Steel. Because he has a nice chest? That's reason enough. Yeah.
9. Watch a late night movie. Like, late late night. And then sleepover and gossip with girls. Sleepover Club style. Just really hardcore badassery like you've never seen it before. I wish I had my own soft serve/froyo machine. God, that would be great. And a fantastic source of income as well. Don't worry, Little Mishelle. I'd give you at least a 10% discount.
10. Invite Wynn and Sarah over for another period drama sesh. Unfortunately, I can't even think of what to watch. Usually, I have a pretty lengthy list of movies to watch. But that has been slowly depleting.
11. Get jiggy with R.
That's the list so far. As my final topic of discussion, I want to bitch about work the other day. They only scheduled three people plus one manager to work all of Sunday. And that manager stayed in her office all day. So there were only three people on the entire floor all day. And I only worked 11am-3pm so for two hours there were only two people on the floor.
At one point, the guy doing technology/furniture (yes, both. Zoe and I were both at POS because we don't know how to do the rest of the stuff) went on lunch. Customers started asking for furniture help and technology help. The manager was no help at all. Literally, she doesn't know how to do anything and just hid in her office all day even though we were dying out there.
I took it upon myself to help out with furniture because I'm such an outstanding citizen (seriously, I have many testimonials all over my facebook wall to prove this). It took me half an hour to help one lady. She wanted to return this table. Then she wanted to exchange it for this massive glass table. I have no idea where they keep the furniture flatpacks or if there's a system. It took me 15 minutes to find the right one. Two boxes, 25-30kg each. No one to help me. Just me and a trolley. I'm pretty sure I jacked my knee trying to carry those boxes.
Thankfully, the lady was super nice and patient. She helped me with moving the boxes around and was very appreciative of my help, realizing I was filling in for furniture help because we were fucking deserted.
In the time I was helping that lady, at least five other customers asked me for help with big things like, "Hey, can you get me that massive desk from the back and hey, what sort of cable do I need to attach this very vague description of a technological item to this other non-existent technological item?" I told them all I couldn't, I was with another customer. There was this one lady who I told I would help after this lady. Every time I walked past, she just glared at me. We got two written customer complaints that day.
I forgot to mention (maybe?) the best part. R called in sick so print & copy was closed. For the whole day. No print & copy for a whole Sunday because the one guy they had scheduled on for the whole day was sick. I'm pretty sure there's some protocol that you need at least two people there. I mean, what about lunch breaks? Who covers the other person then?
I had one old guy come up to me and complain that it was absolutely ridiculous that print & copy was closed because the guy was sick. That we should have called in a replacement immediately. I nodded.
"I absolutely agree. It's ridiculous," I said.
"I need help with the photocopiers! What are you going to do about it?!"
"I'll send over my manager and she can help you," I said, knowing full well she has no idea how to work the photocopiers.
I didn't end up sending the manager over because I was hauling 50kg of desks and glass around the store and forgot. I'm pretty sure he was one of the customer complaints.
The thing that kills me is that there is so much hate directed to the lowly floor staff and check out girls because the store is consistently understaffed. I am fully aware the store is understaffed. I am aware of this every time a customer chucks a shit at me (which happens at least once every hour) because they have to wait for help from a technology or furniture guy. And every time I have to bounce a call around on hold for 15 minutes until they hang up with some choice words when I ask them if I can take a message instead and get the guys to call them back.
Please, complain to the managers so they'll actually do something.
The store has gone downhill so hard ever since most of the old managers left. It's killing me. My devotion to Officeworks is waning. Work is exhausting now. I've come home crying twice from stress now. Hello, I don't think check out chicks are supposed to be driven to tears by their crappy job.
J
EC
I need to talk about this.
I was serving a customer the other day. He paid by card. I checked his signature. I checked again. I checked again. I looked up at him. He looked unfazed. I looked at his signature again.
HIS NAME WAS EDWARD CULLEN.
Am I shitting you? No. Did I ask him if his name was really Edward Cullen? No. Do I regret this? Yes.
I want confirmation. But I can say with almost 90% certainty that his name was really Edward Cullen.
J
Saturday, June 15, 2013
The Kooks - "Always Where I Need To Be"
Great song (they don't do so great live though... in my opinion. Too experimental):
J
J
Friday, June 14, 2013
Just Perpetuating Stereotypes Here
I love some old timey chivalry. Like when a guy holds the door open for me or we're walking together towards an entrance and he holds back to let me through first. I don't even need to be romantically interested in this person. I will be very grateful they were so kind and then melt. It is adorable and very sweet. And if I have no romantic interest whatsoever, I will simply think to myself, "Well damn, you're an A+ guy."
If a girl does this for me, I will just be in shock. Because girls rarely do this kind of thing for each other. The only common setting for this kind of chivalry to occur between girls is when you're both entering/exiting the public bathroom at the same time and you hold the bathroom door open for the other person. I do this all the time and it kills me because it extends the amount of time I am exposed to whatever is on that public bathroom door.
J
If a girl does this for me, I will just be in shock. Because girls rarely do this kind of thing for each other. The only common setting for this kind of chivalry to occur between girls is when you're both entering/exiting the public bathroom at the same time and you hold the bathroom door open for the other person. I do this all the time and it kills me because it extends the amount of time I am exposed to whatever is on that public bathroom door.
J
Tuesday, June 11, 2013
Taylor Swift - "The Story Of Us"
Damn, I miss Liz so much. This Red Tour business isn't the same without her.
She made the sauciest bitch ever.
J
She made the sauciest bitch ever.
J
Monday, June 10, 2013
Tomorrow, Tomorrow
My first exam is tomorrow morning.
I spent most of today stressing, feeling inadequate, feeling stupid, feeling like I'm going to fail. Then I went for a run and within the first five minutes, I thought to myself, "You got this. You might not know everything but you know enough to pass." Isn't that glorious? I love that running does that to me now. I feel like I've finally gotten over that overwhelming feeling that my lungs are going to collapse (T3 staging, lung cancer) and now I can actually enjoy running. I enjoy feeling my legs moving underneath me, I can somewhat detach myself from physical pain and weakness (except for the last five minutes of every run. Then it feels like chainsaws are slowly ripping into my muscles). Everything seems clearer and more peaceful when I run.
I've become one of those people who I hate.
I returned home and started studying for ID. I like to leave the night before an exam devoid of whatever material the exam is for. Even if that means studying for something else (I would preferably not study anything and just chill and watch TV or read a book or eat food. Yes, food is always good).
But then I felt overwhelmingly sad again. After this exam period, I have a lot of thinking and silent contemplation and shit to do. And plan for Europe!
J
Weird Kid
High school:
Primary school:
J
- I used to do all my holiday homework in the first weekend of holidays.
- I was super anal about leaving the house to walk to school at 8am every morning which always resulted in me being the first one there and being a super loner for at least 20 minutes.
- I once ate three canteen muffins in one day (two chocolate ones during recess because I was a super fatty and then I made Kim bring me one from her missy prissy head girl meeting. She also brought me a juice box, bless her soul. I shared the mixed berry muffin with others in my spec maths class and still regret that decision to this day).
Primary school:
- During winter, I used to sleep in my school uniform so I wouldn't have to change in the morning.
- I did the PEAC test in year four (I did Growing Poppies until then and then you had to take a test to go to "senior PEAC" or whatever) and did not get accepted. I continue to hold a grudge.
- I once went to see the school nurse with my class and we had to rinse with this dye to see the plaque on our teeth. When the nurse told me to shut my jaw, I closed my mouth (lips and all) and didn't understand what she meant. This went on for some time. I didn't realize she meant to bring my teeth together but keep my lips open so she could actually see my teeth. I think I now see why I was not accepted into Senior PEAC.
- I had a small obsession with crumbed sausages. Damn, that was some good sausage.
J
Roll Your Window Down
Holy shit. I don't think I've laughed this hard in two weeks:
Who even rolls their window down like that? Her brother looks so awkward.
J
Who even rolls their window down like that? Her brother looks so awkward.
J
Taylor Swift + John Mayer - "Your Body Is A Wonderland"
I'm still in shock this ever even happened:
'
I hope she didn't get an STI from him.
J
'
I hope she didn't get an STI from him.
J
Sunday, June 9, 2013
Pocahontas - "Colors of the Wind"
Damn, Pocahontas is hot as hell. Also, her one shouldered mini dress is so fashion forward.
J
J
A Random Memory (TMI Edition)
When I was in year two or three, I came down with a terrible "stomach bug" (vague term deliberate). It was during the period of school swimming lessons so my parents assumed I'd just ingested some other kid's faeces or something to that effect. I came down with a fever one night and, some time around midnight, started experiencing really horrible stomach pains.
I ended up in the ED that night.
Dramatic pause.
Anyway, all was well. They gave me some sort of medication (I distinctly remember that they shot it into my mouth with a syringe. We took that syringe home for God knows what reason). I had a new nurse put an IV in and it hurt like hell. I pissed in one of those toilets on wheels that they wheeled into your room. I remember needing to pee so bad but my family were all out at the time (one of my parents stayed at the hospital overnight with me. I think I was in hospital for two nights) and I was too scared to call a nurse in to bring me a toilet.
Eventually, my need to pee surpassed my embarrassment and I pressed that red button. In came the wheely toilet. Never have I felt so embarrassed taking a piss as I did then. The nurse kindly said she'd turn around and gave me as much privacy as she could. I love that nurse. I hope she is doing well.
I remember eating a Jean Claude flute baguette for the very first time during my stay in PMH.
I also distinctly remember (this is the TMI part) my male doctor coming in... and checking my ass. He told me to roll on my side on the bed. There was butt cheek spreading. Now, with the medical knowledge I have garnered over the last 2.5 years, I have reason to believe he was checking for enterobius vermicularis.
PINWORMS. THREADWORMS. I MAY HAVE HAD WORMS IN MY ASS/GUT.
It's funny but I remember not even caring that some random guy was looking at my ass (the correct term would be asshole but I somehow feel self-conscious admitting that I have one?). I think that's the great thing about being around medical people. When you're sick and you need help, you don't really care if you shit yourself or if you accidentally vomit on someone (well, you do care but it's not as bad as when you vomit on some random at the supermarket) or if you have someone looking at your anus (oh yes, I went there).
Well, apparently I'm still self-conscious about nurses listening to me pee. But maybe I'll get over that.
This happened so long ago but I still remember that whole experience with startling clarity. I remember lying on the backseat of the car and listening to this song on the radio while I writhed around in agony. It was my favourite song at the time and it had the word "sunshine" in it but I have no idea what it was called. I've been hunting for that song for the last 10 years.
Anyway, that's all for now. I hope you enjoyed that story. Maybe next time I'll regale you with the story of how I got a UTI... Stay tuned.
J
I ended up in the ED that night.
Dramatic pause.
Anyway, all was well. They gave me some sort of medication (I distinctly remember that they shot it into my mouth with a syringe. We took that syringe home for God knows what reason). I had a new nurse put an IV in and it hurt like hell. I pissed in one of those toilets on wheels that they wheeled into your room. I remember needing to pee so bad but my family were all out at the time (one of my parents stayed at the hospital overnight with me. I think I was in hospital for two nights) and I was too scared to call a nurse in to bring me a toilet.
Eventually, my need to pee surpassed my embarrassment and I pressed that red button. In came the wheely toilet. Never have I felt so embarrassed taking a piss as I did then. The nurse kindly said she'd turn around and gave me as much privacy as she could. I love that nurse. I hope she is doing well.
I remember eating a Jean Claude flute baguette for the very first time during my stay in PMH.
I also distinctly remember (this is the TMI part) my male doctor coming in... and checking my ass. He told me to roll on my side on the bed. There was butt cheek spreading. Now, with the medical knowledge I have garnered over the last 2.5 years, I have reason to believe he was checking for enterobius vermicularis.
PINWORMS. THREADWORMS. I MAY HAVE HAD WORMS IN MY ASS/GUT.
It's funny but I remember not even caring that some random guy was looking at my ass (the correct term would be asshole but I somehow feel self-conscious admitting that I have one?). I think that's the great thing about being around medical people. When you're sick and you need help, you don't really care if you shit yourself or if you accidentally vomit on someone (well, you do care but it's not as bad as when you vomit on some random at the supermarket) or if you have someone looking at your anus (oh yes, I went there).
Well, apparently I'm still self-conscious about nurses listening to me pee. But maybe I'll get over that.
This happened so long ago but I still remember that whole experience with startling clarity. I remember lying on the backseat of the car and listening to this song on the radio while I writhed around in agony. It was my favourite song at the time and it had the word "sunshine" in it but I have no idea what it was called. I've been hunting for that song for the last 10 years.
Anyway, that's all for now. I hope you enjoyed that story. Maybe next time I'll regale you with the story of how I got a UTI... Stay tuned.
J
Saturday, June 8, 2013
Long Day
Finally finishing off after a horrendous day.
I got up and it started well. Ate some blood orange Chobani and delicious toast (I don't really understand how people can just eat yoghurt for breakfast. I mean, I'll eat yoghurt but I always need something extra otherwise it seems to just stimulate my gastric juices and not satisfy my hunger. Also, am I the only person on this earth who actually wakes up hungry and needs to eat breakfast immediately? How can people wait two hours until breakfast or not eat until lunch? Can I start some sort of Breakfast Club?).
I've been panicking again about my study schedule because I haven't started studying for two of my exams... At all. One of them, I've left only one day to study and the other 2.5 days. To be fair, they're both pretty easy units but still, 2.5 and one day... That's not much.
Due to this panicking, I've been trying to plan out all my days with rigidity. Today, I was meant to go hard on practice/past papers for pathology. This occurred from 8am-12pm. I broke for lunch (yes, I eat lunch at 12pm. Is that so wrong?). At around 12.20pm, I got a call from my supervisor at work. She told me she had me down to work today from 12-5pm. I told her I thought I was meant to work tomorrow from 10.30am-5pm. Nope, she said I must've read the roster wrong. No matter, just come in now!
I mean, fine. Whatever. It's not that much of a fuss for me because I actually worked less today than I would have had I worked tomorrow. It almost means I can study straight Sunday-Monday instead of going Saturday, break Sunday then Monday again (continuity; it's important). The thing that bugged me is that I know for 100% that I was originally rostered on for Sunday 10.30am-5pm. I know this for a fact because I take a picture of the work roster every week (because I'm paranoid and have to check at least seven times... and also for other reasons we shan't speak of). The new managers haven't realized I only work one day a week and, therefore, if they change my roster midway during the week and don't tell me, I'll come into work on the day I was supposed to according to the old roster.
It's annoying. Call me next time because now I feel like a dick because I let down my supervisor (who is the sweetest lady and not one of these stupid new managers) even though it was 100% not my fault. I didn't tell my supervisor because she didn't really need it (someone stole her puppy this morning. I know; what is this world coming to? She was an Akita cross something else too. I don't know if you know this but I'm obsessed with Akitas. They are beautiful animals) and it wasn't her fault. But if it happens again, I'm going to chuck a fuss. Because I'm a spoilt brat.
So, that happened. And I didn't get to see R. He's working tomorrow and seeing him tomorrow (when I was supposed to be working) was going to be my study treat. You know how some people eat a bunch of lollies or bake a bunch of brownies and gorge themselves as a study treat? Ever since my new healthy eating/lifestyle plan, I can't do this anymore. I have to turn to other means of satisfaction/relaxation.
After I got back from work, I panicked some more about FCP and pharmacology and how I haven't even started studying for them. And then I panicked about how much I don't know about pathology and how I've basically neglected the lectures from the second half of the study and have decided to completely not bother looking at bottles tutes.
This is so unlike me. I'm an incredibly thorough studier. Well, at least I used to be. In high school, I would start studying way in advance (over a month) for exams. I would study every single possible material I could get my grubby little hands on. Every past test/exam, every question in the study guide, read every note, leave no stone unturned. If I could do that now, I would because I like getting good grades. But I simply don't have the time to in uni. There's always constant work to keep up on that you don't have time to go back and revise old stuff.
It's maddening. Especially for a pedantic person like me.
I need to go shopping (speaking of which, I'm so mad that Target and Myer stocktake sales are during exam period!). This exam business needs to stop. Bring back fingerpainting and spelling words.
J
I got up and it started well. Ate some blood orange Chobani and delicious toast (I don't really understand how people can just eat yoghurt for breakfast. I mean, I'll eat yoghurt but I always need something extra otherwise it seems to just stimulate my gastric juices and not satisfy my hunger. Also, am I the only person on this earth who actually wakes up hungry and needs to eat breakfast immediately? How can people wait two hours until breakfast or not eat until lunch? Can I start some sort of Breakfast Club?).
I've been panicking again about my study schedule because I haven't started studying for two of my exams... At all. One of them, I've left only one day to study and the other 2.5 days. To be fair, they're both pretty easy units but still, 2.5 and one day... That's not much.
Due to this panicking, I've been trying to plan out all my days with rigidity. Today, I was meant to go hard on practice/past papers for pathology. This occurred from 8am-12pm. I broke for lunch (yes, I eat lunch at 12pm. Is that so wrong?). At around 12.20pm, I got a call from my supervisor at work. She told me she had me down to work today from 12-5pm. I told her I thought I was meant to work tomorrow from 10.30am-5pm. Nope, she said I must've read the roster wrong. No matter, just come in now!
I mean, fine. Whatever. It's not that much of a fuss for me because I actually worked less today than I would have had I worked tomorrow. It almost means I can study straight Sunday-Monday instead of going Saturday, break Sunday then Monday again (continuity; it's important). The thing that bugged me is that I know for 100% that I was originally rostered on for Sunday 10.30am-5pm. I know this for a fact because I take a picture of the work roster every week (because I'm paranoid and have to check at least seven times... and also for other reasons we shan't speak of). The new managers haven't realized I only work one day a week and, therefore, if they change my roster midway during the week and don't tell me, I'll come into work on the day I was supposed to according to the old roster.
It's annoying. Call me next time because now I feel like a dick because I let down my supervisor (who is the sweetest lady and not one of these stupid new managers) even though it was 100% not my fault. I didn't tell my supervisor because she didn't really need it (someone stole her puppy this morning. I know; what is this world coming to? She was an Akita cross something else too. I don't know if you know this but I'm obsessed with Akitas. They are beautiful animals) and it wasn't her fault. But if it happens again, I'm going to chuck a fuss. Because I'm a spoilt brat.
So, that happened. And I didn't get to see R. He's working tomorrow and seeing him tomorrow (when I was supposed to be working) was going to be my study treat. You know how some people eat a bunch of lollies or bake a bunch of brownies and gorge themselves as a study treat? Ever since my new healthy eating/lifestyle plan, I can't do this anymore. I have to turn to other means of satisfaction/relaxation.
After I got back from work, I panicked some more about FCP and pharmacology and how I haven't even started studying for them. And then I panicked about how much I don't know about pathology and how I've basically neglected the lectures from the second half of the study and have decided to completely not bother looking at bottles tutes.
This is so unlike me. I'm an incredibly thorough studier. Well, at least I used to be. In high school, I would start studying way in advance (over a month) for exams. I would study every single possible material I could get my grubby little hands on. Every past test/exam, every question in the study guide, read every note, leave no stone unturned. If I could do that now, I would because I like getting good grades. But I simply don't have the time to in uni. There's always constant work to keep up on that you don't have time to go back and revise old stuff.
It's maddening. Especially for a pedantic person like me.
I need to go shopping (speaking of which, I'm so mad that Target and Myer stocktake sales are during exam period!). This exam business needs to stop. Bring back fingerpainting and spelling words.
J
Friday, June 7, 2013
Failure
So, I just found out that I failed the musculoskeletal clinical skills exam I did a few weeks ago. This means I need to resit it after the exam period (not sure when, hopefully just a few days after).
I feel really disappointed. And worried that I'll fail the resit then have to take a huge, disgusting exam at the end of the year. Which, if I fail, means I get kicked out of med. And annoyed that this means I have to re-practice those exams and not be able to celebrate fully once the theory exams are out of the way.
But then, I don't really care because I know I'm going to pass the resit. I fully intend to practice a heap and impress everyone with my skills. It's just annoying. In the words of Big Michelle, I'm feeling pretty pissed out at the mo.
J
I feel really disappointed. And worried that I'll fail the resit then have to take a huge, disgusting exam at the end of the year. Which, if I fail, means I get kicked out of med. And annoyed that this means I have to re-practice those exams and not be able to celebrate fully once the theory exams are out of the way.
But then, I don't really care because I know I'm going to pass the resit. I fully intend to practice a heap and impress everyone with my skills. It's just annoying. In the words of Big Michelle, I'm feeling pretty pissed out at the mo.
J
I've Been Bitten
That shit is so lame! But his face makes it okay.
That kiss probably tasted like branzino. Which makes me wonder if you can actually taste what the other person ate recently when you kiss them. Are people kissing each other and reliving the other person's meal? Or do they just ignore that branzino fishiness while engaging in these lingual acts?
J
That kiss probably tasted like branzino. Which makes me wonder if you can actually taste what the other person ate recently when you kiss them. Are people kissing each other and reliving the other person's meal? Or do they just ignore that branzino fishiness while engaging in these lingual acts?
J
Through the Fire Escape
His smile at 0:15:
I never noticed it before. It is delightful. Marry me, Peter Parker. Marry me!
Just channeling Penelope (we all know the movie, Penelope, right? Otherwise just get out, right now. It's the end of you and me). That scene where she's standing on the staircase and James McAvoy is looking all regretful and solemn and she's so upset. Then she goes all, "Marry me! Or I'll kill myself!" on his ass.
In writing, it sounds incredibly weird but that scene killed me (softly, with his song. And now I'm thinking about About a Boy).
J
I never noticed it before. It is delightful. Marry me, Peter Parker. Marry me!
Just channeling Penelope (we all know the movie, Penelope, right? Otherwise just get out, right now. It's the end of you and me). That scene where she's standing on the staircase and James McAvoy is looking all regretful and solemn and she's so upset. Then she goes all, "Marry me! Or I'll kill myself!" on his ass.
In writing, it sounds incredibly weird but that scene killed me (softly, with his song. And now I'm thinking about About a Boy).
J
A Triumph of the Human Spirit
I want to share some casual news with you right now.
As you may now, I have been trying to lose weight since I was about 13 when one of my family friend's said to my mother (in Chinese in a masked effort to conceal it from me), "J has a very solid build."
This is perhaps the worst thing you can ever say in front of a 13 year old girl in the midst of puberty. She even looked over with a sly smile at me like I couldn't understand. Excuse me, I may not be able to speak Chinese but I can pretty much follow any conversation in at least two dialects.
As you can imagine, the trauma inflicted upon me from this situation is something that I've carried with me for over seven years now. I've made efforts to lose weight in the past but have never been successful. In fact, most of the time, exercising has made me put on weight (I put on about 2kg the year I started doing weights regularly).
People have always said that losing weight is 80% diet, 20% exercise. I wish it was the other way around because I can exercise if I want to. Giving up the food I love (daily biscuits, single spoonfuls of ice cream that eventually amount to two bowls, as many carbs as I can fit into my mouth at any one time) is something I've never even tried. Okay, maybe for about a month between first and second year uni, I started eating salads for lunch. Great! Not so great because I rewarded my healthy lunches with a two biscuit dessert straight after.
The point of this rant is that I've successfully lost 4kg since making a sincere effort about two months ago. This is the first time I've ever lost weight in my entire life. Since I was born, I've consistently put on weight (that's not even an exaggeration. In fact, I was the biggest fatty ever when I was a baby and put on around 10kg in 1.5 years. Shocking).
I stopped eating snacks except for fruit and the occasional nut (or several nuts). I stopped eating chocolate after dinner. I started running more. I started going to bed hungry every now and then (I know that sounds foul and disgusting as fuck but it's not. I was only hungry because I was too used to eating too much. After I adjusted, I started feeling less hungry). I began to enjoy having a flat(ish) stomach in the morning and not getting bloated in the evenings. I became obsessed with yoghurt (pseudo-healthy).
I feel good now. I actually feel hungry when I sit down to eat a meal instead of full from the Tim Tams I ate 20 minutes ago. I still go crazy at parties and gatherings where there is a sumptuous feast involved (I think I was responsible for eating about 50% of the food circulating at the twins' party the other night) but eating healthy the rest of the time makes me appreciate it more.
So there's that. I'm quite pleased with myself (she said smugly).
J
As you may now, I have been trying to lose weight since I was about 13 when one of my family friend's said to my mother (in Chinese in a masked effort to conceal it from me), "J has a very solid build."
This is perhaps the worst thing you can ever say in front of a 13 year old girl in the midst of puberty. She even looked over with a sly smile at me like I couldn't understand. Excuse me, I may not be able to speak Chinese but I can pretty much follow any conversation in at least two dialects.
As you can imagine, the trauma inflicted upon me from this situation is something that I've carried with me for over seven years now. I've made efforts to lose weight in the past but have never been successful. In fact, most of the time, exercising has made me put on weight (I put on about 2kg the year I started doing weights regularly).
People have always said that losing weight is 80% diet, 20% exercise. I wish it was the other way around because I can exercise if I want to. Giving up the food I love (daily biscuits, single spoonfuls of ice cream that eventually amount to two bowls, as many carbs as I can fit into my mouth at any one time) is something I've never even tried. Okay, maybe for about a month between first and second year uni, I started eating salads for lunch. Great! Not so great because I rewarded my healthy lunches with a two biscuit dessert straight after.
The point of this rant is that I've successfully lost 4kg since making a sincere effort about two months ago. This is the first time I've ever lost weight in my entire life. Since I was born, I've consistently put on weight (that's not even an exaggeration. In fact, I was the biggest fatty ever when I was a baby and put on around 10kg in 1.5 years. Shocking).
I stopped eating snacks except for fruit and the occasional nut (or several nuts). I stopped eating chocolate after dinner. I started running more. I started going to bed hungry every now and then (I know that sounds foul and disgusting as fuck but it's not. I was only hungry because I was too used to eating too much. After I adjusted, I started feeling less hungry). I began to enjoy having a flat(ish) stomach in the morning and not getting bloated in the evenings. I became obsessed with yoghurt (pseudo-healthy).
I feel good now. I actually feel hungry when I sit down to eat a meal instead of full from the Tim Tams I ate 20 minutes ago. I still go crazy at parties and gatherings where there is a sumptuous feast involved (I think I was responsible for eating about 50% of the food circulating at the twins' party the other night) but eating healthy the rest of the time makes me appreciate it more.
So there's that. I'm quite pleased with myself (she said smugly).
J
Thursday, June 6, 2013
The Amazing Spiderman
I've posted this before and everything but THIS IS THE GREATEST SCENE IN MOVIE HISTORY:
I know. I've said that many times before. But I truly believe that right at this moment.
J
I know. I've said that many times before. But I truly believe that right at this moment.
J
Wednesday, June 5, 2013
I'm So Fucked
I don't want to do this anymore. I am literally in physical pain doing this shit. I can't remember anything. I feel like I'm going to fail all my exams.
I'm also increasingly unhappy with uni in general. It's not about social inadequacies or anything anymore. I don't know if I'm happy in this degree. I don't know if I want this to be my future. I don't know if I want to be a doctor. I don't know if I want to be anything at all. I was this way at the end of year 12; unsure of everything and of what I wanted. I'm just as uncertain now.
Nothing appeals to me. Is it the exams talking or am I really not meant to be doing this degree?
I've started writing this post so many times and then deleted it. Because it makes me feel ungrateful to write these things when I know so many people who have worked so hard to be in this degree and who have been unsuccessful. And also because my dad wanted to be a doctor when he was younger but never had the opportunity and is therefore living vicariously through me.
Quitting is not an option. Isn't that dramatic sounding? I couldn't quit even if I tried. What would I do? I've already put so much work into this degree already. I don't think I could bear it if I left all that behind.
I'm going to bed soon. Maybe it'll all be alright in the morning. Mum bought me Chobani (without me even asking) so that's a good sign. I've been hitting the books hard all week (think 8.30am-11pm study days) and it's taking its toll on me mentally and emotionally. Coupled with the feeling that I'm getting nowhere and remembering nothing... I hope it's just the stress talking and not my true feelings.
I like the idea of being a GP someday. Being able to travel and help people. It's getting there that makes me nervous. The years of relentless study. The amount of crap I have to memorize for just one semester is ridiculous. There's so much that it's laughable. Then there's the actually being in hospitals and completing my clinical years, internships, registrarships (that ain't no word). Dealing with smug, scary doctors. Being put on the spot. Being responsible for someone's life. The constant reminder that if I fuck up, if I forget some insignificant detail I learnt in third year, I could kill someone. Being yelled at, abused, belittled. Working 24 hour shifts (do those really exist?), working on no sleep at all.
I can't even handle menial jobs that have no true meaning. My first night at Officeworks, I came home, laid down in bed and burst into tears. Can you imagine my first clinical rotation in fourth year? I'm going to be a fucking mess. My first day as an intern... I foresee myself turning to alcohol at some point in time.
It's all just a fucking mess. I'm so lost and done for and fucked up.
J
I'm also increasingly unhappy with uni in general. It's not about social inadequacies or anything anymore. I don't know if I'm happy in this degree. I don't know if I want this to be my future. I don't know if I want to be a doctor. I don't know if I want to be anything at all. I was this way at the end of year 12; unsure of everything and of what I wanted. I'm just as uncertain now.
Nothing appeals to me. Is it the exams talking or am I really not meant to be doing this degree?
I've started writing this post so many times and then deleted it. Because it makes me feel ungrateful to write these things when I know so many people who have worked so hard to be in this degree and who have been unsuccessful. And also because my dad wanted to be a doctor when he was younger but never had the opportunity and is therefore living vicariously through me.
Quitting is not an option. Isn't that dramatic sounding? I couldn't quit even if I tried. What would I do? I've already put so much work into this degree already. I don't think I could bear it if I left all that behind.
I'm going to bed soon. Maybe it'll all be alright in the morning. Mum bought me Chobani (without me even asking) so that's a good sign. I've been hitting the books hard all week (think 8.30am-11pm study days) and it's taking its toll on me mentally and emotionally. Coupled with the feeling that I'm getting nowhere and remembering nothing... I hope it's just the stress talking and not my true feelings.
I like the idea of being a GP someday. Being able to travel and help people. It's getting there that makes me nervous. The years of relentless study. The amount of crap I have to memorize for just one semester is ridiculous. There's so much that it's laughable. Then there's the actually being in hospitals and completing my clinical years, internships, registrarships (that ain't no word). Dealing with smug, scary doctors. Being put on the spot. Being responsible for someone's life. The constant reminder that if I fuck up, if I forget some insignificant detail I learnt in third year, I could kill someone. Being yelled at, abused, belittled. Working 24 hour shifts (do those really exist?), working on no sleep at all.
I can't even handle menial jobs that have no true meaning. My first night at Officeworks, I came home, laid down in bed and burst into tears. Can you imagine my first clinical rotation in fourth year? I'm going to be a fucking mess. My first day as an intern... I foresee myself turning to alcohol at some point in time.
It's all just a fucking mess. I'm so lost and done for and fucked up.
J
A Random Memory
A couple of weeks ago, there were about five minutes in which I was serving at the registers with R. We had a sudden rush so he had to jump in to help out. Of course, I was completely titillated by our close proximity (and yes, the use of that word is completely warranted here). But more so when he greeted a customer with a simple, "Yo."
To be fair, she was around our age. If it had been an elderly lady or businessman, my eyebrows would have shot up even more than they did. I glanced over but he was unfazed and busy scanning this girl's purchases.
It's things like this that really get me. Like when he had to do the closing call one evening (shit, this must be months ago by now) which is something he hates doing. As his final statement, he said, "Thanks for shopping with us today. Now get out or we'll lock you in."
He is ridiculous.
J
To be fair, she was around our age. If it had been an elderly lady or businessman, my eyebrows would have shot up even more than they did. I glanced over but he was unfazed and busy scanning this girl's purchases.
It's things like this that really get me. Like when he had to do the closing call one evening (shit, this must be months ago by now) which is something he hates doing. As his final statement, he said, "Thanks for shopping with us today. Now get out or we'll lock you in."
He is ridiculous.
J
Tuesday, June 4, 2013
Kimbra - "Two Way Street"
Damn, girl. This is all sorts of amazing:
All sorts of sensuality and sexuality pouring out of this performance. I am enjoying it thoroughly.
J
All sorts of sensuality and sexuality pouring out of this performance. I am enjoying it thoroughly.
J
Monday, June 3, 2013
He's Wiggin', Man
It's (very) possible I might just be a horrible, heartless bitch but the whole part in Say Anything when Lloyd and Dianne break up makes me laugh. As in, I'm chuckling when Dianne gets in her car and starts crying. Don't even get me started on when Lloyd is driving in his car in the rain with that ridiculous monologue.
I theorize that it's actually meant to be funny. The whole, "I gave her my heart and she gave me a pen," line is meant to get a laugh. Lloyd's voice when he's talking into the dictaphone is ridiculous, so dramatic and laughable.
"The rain on my car is a baptism."
Damn, Lloyd. That's some deep shit. This movie is a good relaxing half hour after a day of study. I really feel like a Subway cookie.
J
I theorize that it's actually meant to be funny. The whole, "I gave her my heart and she gave me a pen," line is meant to get a laugh. Lloyd's voice when he's talking into the dictaphone is ridiculous, so dramatic and laughable.
"The rain on my car is a baptism."
Damn, Lloyd. That's some deep shit. This movie is a good relaxing half hour after a day of study. I really feel like a Subway cookie.
J
Hype
I feel I have hyped up this mysterious blog post I intend to write too much. I will not tell you which blog post it is. I will judge whether it was worthy of the hype by the general reaction to it.
Be prepared for disappointment.
J
Be prepared for disappointment.
J
On Motivation
When I first started running with Little Mishelle, my motivation was to not embarrass myself in front of her. This worked for the first half of the run. By the second half, I would slow to a haggard, limp/walk and she would power ahead. I stopped caring about not embarrassing myself and started caring more about not falling onto the road out of exhaustion and getting run over.
When I started running this time around, my original motivation was imagining Zayn Malik running in front of me, his adorable British ass and hair luring me to hotness. This worked for a while then I stopped liking One Direction so much. When I started delving into my ongoing cresh (creepy crush? Fetch?), my motivation was, "Must get hot to attract R to have his babies."
This worked for about two seconds but then my mind would wander to, "What should we name our children? What would they look like? Would they look half White or barely White at all? How many quarter White people do you see on the street? WILL HIS PARENTS LIKE ME?"
Then I would shake my head and think, "Get your shit together, gurl. You are behaving with reckless abandon." (I usually try to limit my fantasies to at least partially realistic.)
All this thinking took too much brain power and my legs would slow down to a trudge. This is not conducive to running well (and getting hot and attracting R and having his babies. I'm not so fussed about meeting his parents. We can elope).
I recently downloaded this app, Zombies! Run. I may have mentioned it before but it uses your GPS to track your running and then tells you if there's a horde of zombies running after you, thus urging you to run faster to avoid a painful death or necrotic misery. I really want to use it... but I have no device to attach my phone to my body and I'm also scared some lunatic (not a zombie) will attack me because I'm distracted by my running away from zombies (very real zombies).
There is no real message or moral point of this blog post. I just wanted to share some of my thoughts on motivation to exercise. For the most part, guilt is my main motivator. But also the "Get Hot" thing.
J
When I started running this time around, my original motivation was imagining Zayn Malik running in front of me, his adorable British ass and hair luring me to hotness. This worked for a while then I stopped liking One Direction so much. When I started delving into my ongoing cresh (creepy crush? Fetch?), my motivation was, "Must get hot to attract R to have his babies."
This worked for about two seconds but then my mind would wander to, "What should we name our children? What would they look like? Would they look half White or barely White at all? How many quarter White people do you see on the street? WILL HIS PARENTS LIKE ME?"
Then I would shake my head and think, "Get your shit together, gurl. You are behaving with reckless abandon." (I usually try to limit my fantasies to at least partially realistic.)
All this thinking took too much brain power and my legs would slow down to a trudge. This is not conducive to running well (and getting hot and attracting R and having his babies. I'm not so fussed about meeting his parents. We can elope).
I recently downloaded this app, Zombies! Run. I may have mentioned it before but it uses your GPS to track your running and then tells you if there's a horde of zombies running after you, thus urging you to run faster to avoid a painful death or necrotic misery. I really want to use it... but I have no device to attach my phone to my body and I'm also scared some lunatic (not a zombie) will attack me because I'm distracted by my running away from zombies (very real zombies).
There is no real message or moral point of this blog post. I just wanted to share some of my thoughts on motivation to exercise. For the most part, guilt is my main motivator. But also the "Get Hot" thing.
J
Sunday, June 2, 2013
That Time I Went There
There's this really nice young couple that always come into Officeworks (as in, I see them regularly but I only work one day a week during semester so this may be a skewed perception). They are very polite, they are really nice to each other (isn't it awkward when you get a husband/boyfriend and wife/girlfriend who are bickering or angry at their kids?) and just generally adorable. The guy is pretty good looking (again, a bit short for my tastes) but my thoughts never even wandered into fantasy zone (am I the only one who easily pictures my future life with random cute guys on the street?) because I'm basically in love with this couple. I don't even know their names but they are just amazing together.
I want to be godmother to their future children.
The point of this long winded, borderline stalker introduction was that they came into the store again yesterday. I saw them enter and smiled to myself (creepy). When they came up to the register to make their purchases, I hesitated for a moment then went for it, "Hey, did I see you guys last Saturday?"
There was a moment of silence. And then they both cracked up in embarrassed laughter.
"Probably, we basically live here!" said the girl.
"Oh God..." the guy kept saying, laughing in this cute embarrassed way. The girl was also somewhat embarrassed but gave less shits than her boyfriend.
"It's nothing to be embarrassed about, guys!" I said, laughing with them (we are basically best friends at this point). "It's just that I only work one day a week; Saturdays."
"Exactly!" said the girl. "You're here every Saturday too!"
At the end of our interaction (the Start of Something New, I should say. A new friendship has clearly blossomed. I fully expect to be appointed godmother/maid of honour), I said, "See you guys later. Have a good one!"
The girl replied, "Yeah, maybe we'll see you next Saturday!"
Oh, my God. I love them. I'm so effing weird.
J
I want to be godmother to their future children.
The point of this long winded, borderline stalker introduction was that they came into the store again yesterday. I saw them enter and smiled to myself (creepy). When they came up to the register to make their purchases, I hesitated for a moment then went for it, "Hey, did I see you guys last Saturday?"
There was a moment of silence. And then they both cracked up in embarrassed laughter.
"Probably, we basically live here!" said the girl.
"Oh God..." the guy kept saying, laughing in this cute embarrassed way. The girl was also somewhat embarrassed but gave less shits than her boyfriend.
"It's nothing to be embarrassed about, guys!" I said, laughing with them (we are basically best friends at this point). "It's just that I only work one day a week; Saturdays."
"Exactly!" said the girl. "You're here every Saturday too!"
At the end of our interaction (the Start of Something New, I should say. A new friendship has clearly blossomed. I fully expect to be appointed godmother/maid of honour), I said, "See you guys later. Have a good one!"
The girl replied, "Yeah, maybe we'll see you next Saturday!"
Oh, my God. I love them. I'm so effing weird.
J
Saturday, June 1, 2013
Plaid
I saw R today for the first time out of his Officeworks uniform. As in, in the nude.
I played you. I did not see him in the nude. And that may actually be good because I imagine he's kind of pasty and pudgy underneath that blue polo t-shirt.
No, I saw him in his civvies. He came in for 15 minutes to help with some sort of technological difficulties (I know; is there anything more divine than a man who is good with his hands/knowledgeable/a pro at something?). I didn't see him come in but I saw him come out (that's what she said).
I saw that spiky black hair from over the various USBs and digital cameras. Bobbing as he walked and talked with his bff, K. At first, I didn't realize it was him as he was out of uniform. And when I did realize it was him, I had to stop myself from looking as I was overwhelmed by my sexual desire.
That is a lie. I stopped myself from looking because there is no thought more horrifying for me than R finding out I like him (this much). Which is stupid. As adults, we're supposed to tell fellow adults when we may have feelings for them. At least, that's what television tells me.
As he came closer, I finally looked up. We smiled. I asked him what he was doing there. He explained, said his goodbyes and left.
I'm sure you are fascinated to know what he was wearing (/sarcasm). Even if you're not, hear me out because I was incredibly fascinated.
For the last 6-7 months I have worked at Officeworks, I have often wondered what R's casual wear is like. I had my fears that it would be sloppy polo t-shirts that strain across his belly. Or seriously derro, $5 K-mart t-shirts paired with hand-me-down jeans (I still love you, K-mart).
Friends, I was pleasantly surprised.
From memory, he was wearing dark, reasonably fitted jeans, a black sweater thing (my words do not convey my meaning. Rest assured, it was reasonably attractive) and, oh my. I am now reaching the best part... A plaid shirt.
A PLAID FUCKING SHIRT.
You know of my feelings towards plaid, right? Plaid... See, my attraction to a man increases 10 fold if he is wearing plaid. You can imagine, it took a lot of self-control to not down R right then and there like a lioness takes down her pray in the African savannah.
To be fair, it wasn't my favourite kind of plaid (red). It was green and a light green at that. But still plaid. And plaid, my friends, is the world's best pattern.
For my parting words, I must note that his hair was tremendous today as well. It was incredibly voluminous and spiky and thick and amazing. It was, dare I say it, comparable to one Andrew Garfield (but in a half-Asiany way).
J
I played you. I did not see him in the nude. And that may actually be good because I imagine he's kind of pasty and pudgy underneath that blue polo t-shirt.
No, I saw him in his civvies. He came in for 15 minutes to help with some sort of technological difficulties (I know; is there anything more divine than a man who is good with his hands/knowledgeable/a pro at something?). I didn't see him come in but I saw him come out (that's what she said).
I saw that spiky black hair from over the various USBs and digital cameras. Bobbing as he walked and talked with his bff, K. At first, I didn't realize it was him as he was out of uniform. And when I did realize it was him, I had to stop myself from looking as I was overwhelmed by my sexual desire.
That is a lie. I stopped myself from looking because there is no thought more horrifying for me than R finding out I like him (this much). Which is stupid. As adults, we're supposed to tell fellow adults when we may have feelings for them. At least, that's what television tells me.
As he came closer, I finally looked up. We smiled. I asked him what he was doing there. He explained, said his goodbyes and left.
I'm sure you are fascinated to know what he was wearing (/sarcasm). Even if you're not, hear me out because I was incredibly fascinated.
For the last 6-7 months I have worked at Officeworks, I have often wondered what R's casual wear is like. I had my fears that it would be sloppy polo t-shirts that strain across his belly. Or seriously derro, $5 K-mart t-shirts paired with hand-me-down jeans (I still love you, K-mart).
Friends, I was pleasantly surprised.
From memory, he was wearing dark, reasonably fitted jeans, a black sweater thing (my words do not convey my meaning. Rest assured, it was reasonably attractive) and, oh my. I am now reaching the best part... A plaid shirt.
A PLAID FUCKING SHIRT.
You know of my feelings towards plaid, right? Plaid... See, my attraction to a man increases 10 fold if he is wearing plaid. You can imagine, it took a lot of self-control to not down R right then and there like a lioness takes down her pray in the African savannah.
To be fair, it wasn't my favourite kind of plaid (red). It was green and a light green at that. But still plaid. And plaid, my friends, is the world's best pattern.
For my parting words, I must note that his hair was tremendous today as well. It was incredibly voluminous and spiky and thick and amazing. It was, dare I say it, comparable to one Andrew Garfield (but in a half-Asiany way).
J
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