Lost in the Heat

I came home today after my three lectures. I was tired; the last lecture was a killer. I was hungry; it was 2.30pm and I hadn't eaten since 6am.

The lecture was a killer in more ways than one. Yes, it was exceptionally hard with 69 slides filled with minute details and general stupidity. But it also depressed me as I sat there. It depressed me because I felt like I was sitting in a void that I wanted desperately to scramble out of but couldn't.

I should have known this morning. My brother drove and parked at the gym. As I was walking towards med campus, I saw a huge line of students outside the gym, chattering nervously. I realized they were about to sit the UMAT (I didn't so much "realize" as see a sign with the word "UMAT" on it). I thought back to my own UMAT experience. I remember my dad dropping me off at the uni in the morning to sit the test. I remember my intense nervousness, feeling like everything (well, 33% of my future) weighed on this silly test.

I remember going for the med entry interview a few months after that. Dad dropped me off again. During the car ride, I received a text from my mum telling me I had received Dux for my high school. I thought this was a sign, that this was meant to be. I walked into the university feeling happy, light and like I could conquer anything.

I remember not getting medicine on first round offers. A feeling of intense dread filling me. Not disappointment; absolute dread. Where was my life going? I needed a future and, from that perspective, I didn't have one.

Then getting medicine on second round offers. The elation but mostly relief.

Now, almost three years after these events, I feel absolutely empty inside. I feel no passion for what I am studying. Next year, we are based mainly in hospitals doing practical work. I dread this with every fibre of my being. GP placements alone (just three hours in a dinky little GP's office) make me nervous. Leaving those placements is like walking on clouds. I'm free when I walk out those clinic doors. I can breathe.

I don't think it's right to dread the next three years of your life. Worse than that, I don't think it's right to dread the rest of your working life. Or to make plans to retire early so you can pursue your dreams of becoming the next Meg Cabot/modern day Jane Austen. Or to make plans to become a GP so you can work three days a week.

I came home this afternoon, hungry and exhausted.
"Mum," I said, as I made a sandwich. "I need to talk to you about something."
"That doesn't sound good," she said.

No, it doesn't.

I told her about how I'm not enjoying uni, not happy with what I'm doing. How unsure I am, how I've been thinking about this for the last couple of months. She comforted me as I cried and we talked about it for a couple of hours. Round and round in circles.

Do I complete the degree but not do an internship/practice? Do I leave now and do something else? Do I do something completely unrelated or try to use some of the units I've already done?

So, where am I now? Still as confused as ever but I feel better. I always feel better after talking to one of my parents about something that's bothering me. Usually it's after talking to my dad though. But I couldn't go right off the bat to my dad about this one because I know how incredibly disappointed he will be. He who lives the life he wish he had lead through me.

Mum told me to talk to a career counsellor at uni and figure out my options. I'm thinking of talking to the preclinical dean as well. She's the most motherly person I know. She did public health or health science in university with postgraduate stuff as well so I figure she'll know more about the health world.

I guess that means I still want to work in health. And I do. I want to help people in a meaningful way. I just don't know if I can see myself doing that as a doctor. Working at the WHO, working on projects in an office, that sort of thing. It seems so much more appealing than being a doctor. Travelling the world, exploring, creating. The written word. God, I miss it.

But I know it's hard to get a job with a health science degree. I know having a medical degree opens up so many doors, regardless of whether you're a doctor or not.

A part of me is also scared of becoming ordinary. Maybe it's embarrassing to admit but sometimes it is nice to tell someone you're a medical student and have them be impressed. But that's a terrible reason to continue doing a course you hate and certainly not one that will go into my decision making (consciously, at least).

Where does that leave me? I'll make an appointment with a career counsellor or any sort of counsellor at school. Maybe I'll email Helena. Maybe I'll talk to my dad about it (or maybe after I talk to a counsellor).

Right now though, I feel like a giant load has been lifted off my chest just saying the words out loud to my mother. I need a plan though. I need to know I have job security in the future, that I can use at least 50% of my past units and not have all that time, effort and money wasted (because it is a lot of money).

Still feels good though.

J

Grey Hoodies and Bikes

I went to buy a camera with my dad today. This one for anyone interested: http://www.cnet.com.au/canon-ixus-240-hs-339342461.htm

We got it at JB Hi-Fi. I know what you're thinking. How could I betray my one true love, Officeworks, like that? Well, Officeworks did not offer what I wanted. And, after buying my camera, I realize that JB Hi-Fi has much, much better customer service. And efficiency of service. But poorer heating. It was chilly in there.

We got to that big, yellow building. Walked in. Walked. Observed the cameras. Went to find someone to get the camera for us. We started approaching one of the employees there. Apparently, they don't have a uniform. This guy was dressed in jeans and a grey hoodie. He saw us approaching and said, "Hey, guys. I'll be with you in a sec. Gotta couple customers here waiting."

Grey Hoodie was none other than... former head body of our high school in the year below us. None other than Alexandre where the reversal of the R and the E from traditional spelling indicates high class and sophistication (we've discussed this already). None other than the guy I occasionally see on the bus or at the bus stand but am too scared to talk to even though I'm older therefore more sexually mature and worldly. None other than the guy who used to work at the local IGA (guess we know where he went now). None other than the guy who I swore I would talk to when I went through his check-out at the IGA during the summer of 2010/11 (did not happen, if you were wondering).

I texted Helen about a recent occurrence with Grey Hoodie a couple of days ago. I saw him at the bus stop. We made eye contact. I think he recognized me (I obviously recognized him). I really wanted to say something like, "Hey! You went to such-and-such school, right?" But I did not. I regret my decision as clearly the forces of the universe are trying to thrust us together (word choice completely deliberate).

I regret this decision even more because, when the bus arrived, he stepped back to let me on the bus first. Like a true gentleman. I turned, smiled and murmured, "Thank you," all docile and feminine like every good woman should do when they're not baking pies or surrendering their Precious Flowers to soldiers returned from The Great War.

On this occasion at JB Hi-Fi, I guarantee Grey Hoodie recognized me again. Whether from the bus stop or from school, I'm not sure. But he recognized me and I gave him a bemused smile. I think something special is happening here. As we loitered, I heard him speaking. So much knowledge about telephone devices. So much knowledge and charisma. That charming smile.

Damn me and my cougar-like intentions.

In the end, Grey Hoodie did not serve us. Instead, some other guy did. I now have a camera to take photos of the great, rolling hills of Buxton, Derbyshire. And something called the Gherkin that Little Mishelle is apparently enamoured with. I doubt its beauty with a name like that. Sure, I love gherkins and all things pickled as much as the next person (seriously, banh mi's would be nothing without that mounding pickled vege) but I think we can all agree that pickles are hardly the most attractive thing in the world.

No, that would be Grey Hoodie.

I digress.

In other news, my dad got a free bike from his boss at work (whom he incidentally despises. I wonder if this free bike will change his views?). It is a ladies' bike and he only got it because I expressed interest in it. He spent all of this morning pumping the tires and servicing it or whatever. Then he went and bought new tires or new tubes or some shit. Now, I feel obligated to ride the shit out of this bike.

Except that I hate cyclists on the road and I'm pretty sure it's illegal to ride on the footpath. But I love cycling. I love the ease, the breeze, the treble in my thighs (channelling Schmidty here).

In any case, this new (free) bike will be conducive to my decision to start training for a triathlon.

J

There and Back Again (A Lard Ass' Tale)

I have been the worst at healthy eating over the last couple of weeks. My new approach to food is this: eat healthy at home, indulge on a weekly basis when I go out to eat. I read a lot of food blogs and I get pissed out when I see healthy lifestyle bloggers go out to eat at a nice restaurant and order a salad.

I like salads. I like that you can add whatever you want, they're generally healthy and generally yummy. But restaurant salads are usually expensive for what they are and, in my opinion, not worth it. Maybe these people just really, really like salads. I am not one of those people. So, when I go out to eat, I like to indulge fully.

This week, I went out to eat too many times and did not change my food philosophy. I did, in fact, indulge fully on each and every one of those occasions. I had Baskin Robbins ice cream on Tuesday. Pralines n' cream. Holy crap, the second I saw it I knew I had to have it (a lot like how I feel about cute guys on the bus). I have never seen so many nuts in a vat of ice cream before. Generally, ice cream places are pretty stingy with mixins. Brownie bits, nut bits, other bits are sparse. But this ice cream was literally bursting with huge chunks of pecans.

I said to myself, "Self, you are going to eat that." So I ordered myself a scoop in a cone (inspired by Big Michelle's recent comments about how she always gets her ice cream in a cone rather than a cup if it's available) and it was magnificent. The pecans were not crispy. Because they were pralined (new terminology. Educate yourself), the texture was more akin to a cookie piece. It was just astonishingly amazing. I now know what sex feels like.

On Thursday, I went to Jamie's Italian and had a full pasta lunch with ice cream dessert. For lunch. Lunch with dessert. This is very uncharacteristic for me. I will have dessert for lunch but I rarely, if ever, have dessert with lunch.

On Friday, mama made lasagne. I worked that night until 9pm and got home at almost half past. And then ate a full lasagne dinner. Great. I'm sure my body thanked me for that one.

On Saturday, I worked the whole day so did not exercise. I ate healthily until dinnertime when I had combination hofan, the most delicious of all hofans. I ate the whole thing. This was a big serve. This was a mega serve. I ate every last slippery noodle. My parents also bought all these cakes and cinnamon rolls from the Miss Maud's factory for cheap so I had a small piece of apple cake. Divinity.

On Friday, I had bought a block of Cadbury Oreo chocolate (limited edition. Get on it, kids). I broke into it last night. Holy crap. It rivals the pralines n' cream ice cream in terms of mixins. So many massive Oreo chunks. So fucking fantastic. I had two pieces (as in, two squares) and was sent to heaven and then back again.

This morning, I ate a massive cinnamon roll that my parents bought. It was amazing. Dense, bready, sweet deliciousness. I was in carboheaven.

Lawd, save me.

It's a good thing (but still very, very bad at the same time) that I go back to uni tomorrow because I need to get back into my healthy eating habits. No more snacks (I can't do snacks because then I feel too entitled to eat more)! No more eating out (except once a week)!

I like how this blog post started as me bashing myself up for eating junk then turned into me salivating and describing ad nauseum the delicious, unhealthy things I ate this week.

J

Girl, You'll Be a Woman Soon

I bought my first lacey bra today. I am a woman now.

To be sure, it was $4 and from K-mart but that doesn't change the fact that I'm a woman now. I would model it for you and post a picture here but you might be blown away by how damn womanly and bodacious I am. Just imagine it.

J

Jamie's Italian

I went to Jamie's Italian with my brother and his special friend for a late lunch today. We got there and I said to Special Friend, "Doesn't look too busy. Hopefully they'll seat us right away." They took our phone number and told us it'd take about 30 minutes. We went for a walk and my brother bought Easyway bubble tea. They called us five minutes after we got the bubble tea to tell us a table was ready. Awesome.

I've never seen anyone drink bubble tea so quickly (it was chocolate with custard. To me, this is the most disgusting combination. I tasted a bit and got a mouthful of tasteless custard and overly sweet chocolate. I feel the best bubble tea should be fruity like mango or lychee, coffee-flavoured or traditional milk tea. And now I've talked enough about bubble tea).

We went and were seated. There were actually numerous empty tables around ours so I wondered why they hadn't seated us straight away. We got talking about the rumour that all the waitstaff are apparently British or at least have British accents. The rumour proved to be correct we realized over the course of the meal.

We started with tap water and a complimentary bread basket.

Yes, I Instgrammed the shit out of these pictures. Enjoy the doctored hipsterness. The bread was dry and tasteless, made better by dipping it in the olive oil/balsamic vinegar mixture. This saddens me greatly as one of my greatest joys in life is bread. I expect more. Bread should be joyful to eat, not a chore. Maybe the dryness is understandable as it's a complimentary bread basket and slices are cut from a loaf that sits out in the open as and when they are needed. That doesn't make up for the tastelessness though. The breadstick was better (but it's a breadstick). In the background is "music bread" which is basically the crispbread you get with cheese. It was also decent but relatively tasteless.

Bread has a taste and that taste should be delicious. I like bread. This bread was mediocre. I am sad.

We ordered a serving of "posh chips" to share. Normal hot chips with parmesan cheese and truffle oil. The truffle oil was indiscernible but the cheese was tasty. This might have been the best "dish" of the meal.

I ordered the sausage pappardelle, main size. The serving size was decent but not exceptional. I've gotten a lot larger for a similar price at suburban restaurants though. There was also the option of an entree size for $6 less but I saw pictures online and the serving size was minuscule. I figured it would be worth it to size up. 

 

The sauce was tasty but slightly more acidic than I'm used to. However, the pasta itself was undercooked owing to the actual shape. The pasta (which reminded me of the small intestine, appetizingly enough) was thick in the middle. It wasn't quite chalky but not quite cooked enough either. The parmesan breadcrumbs on top were tasty. 

My brother ordered the wild rabbit tagliolini. If you aren't already aware, my brother loves steak. He should have ordered the steak.

I had a bite of his. The pasta and sauce were well cooked and tasty. I thought the sauce was pleasantly light and tangy but my brother said later that he found it too buttery. I only had a little bit so probably didn't get the full effect. The rabbit, however, was like rubber. 

Rabbit is a white meat (like chicken... but where does duck stand? I always wonder) but the texture of this rabbit was almost like a really overcooked piece of beef or lamb. It was bad. 

Special Friend ordered steak tagliata described as "180g aged grain-fed Angus Hereford steak with crunchy fennel, watercress, mint, chilli, garlic, horseradish & lemon." She also had the truffle butter for an additional $4.50. 

As you can see, it looked more like a salad than a steak. I guess because it's only 180g, they sliced up the beef and spread it out to make it look like more. Special Friend said it was horribly dry and tough. She ordered it well done though so who knows really. 

My brother and his Special Friend shared a brownie. It was a hunk of brown with an attractive dollop of vanilla ice cream on top. It looked reasonably fudgy. However, on first bite, I was informed that it tasted cheap. More sugary than chocolatey. Worse that what could be found at Woolworths or a Vietnamese bakery. I was sad. There is nothing sadder than a chocolate dessert that tastes more like sugar than chocolate. 

I had the ice cream. Three (small) scoops of ice cream with a choice of two toppings (butterscotch sauce, honeycomb, seasonal fruits or crushed nuts). The ice creams were chocolate (pale without a real chocolate flavour at all but yummy enough), fig and something alcoholic I think? Amaretto maybe? They were lighter and more moussey than normal bought ice creams but I think I actually preferred this. The fig ice cream was actually really nice with a lot of chunks of fig in it. The third flavour was completely non-descript. I can't even describe it to you. It kind of melted into the other two as it was at the bottom. 

The honeycomb was delicious and the butterscotch sauce butterscotchy. I should have got double honeycomb instead though... 

The total bill came to $93 something. 

With $93, we could have gotten a feast at a Chinese restaurant that would have left us with copious leftovers (actually, debatable given my brother's appetite). The thing with going to restaurants to eat pasta is that it never feels worth it. It's all just pasta and not much else. I can buy pasta for 99c from IGA. If I'm going to get pasta at a restaurant, it better be freaking delicious. Otherwise I'll get a burger.

Because burgers are always delicious. I should have gotten the burger.

All in all, no bueno. Save yourself the $93 and go to this place: http://www.urbanspoon.com/r/338/1370726/restaurant/Perth/Singapore-China-Town-Northbridge

The sizzling Japanese tofu is delicious.

J

Future Me

After a month of contemplation, I've decided to stick with med (like it ever really an option not to...) and either do an entirely unrelated postgrad (probably something literary/English/language oriented), a related postgrad (and then go into research which I possibly wouldn't mind), become a real doctor while moonlighting as a literary mystery solver on the side (I'd be Gwyneth Paltrow in Possession) or do the whole retire early thing then follow my real passions.

I'm taking inspiration from Ken Jeong. Even though I don't watch Community and have never seen The Hangover, I really like what he's done.

J

Food Fantasies

Oh, my God. This is adorable: http://cupcakesandcashmere.com/food-fantasies/

I started disliking this blogger for a while but now I like her again. And I may have to follow her example and describe my perfect food day. It's very tough. If I was being completely legitimate, my perfect food day would involve me eating non-stop for at least 13 hours. Here we go:

7am: huge stack of pancakes accompanied by a basket of fresh bread and pastries. Today, I feast like a king.

10.30am: Snack time. Obviously. Probably a whole baking tray of brownies. But those infamous slutty brownies with the cookie dough and Oreos mixed inside.

I give up. I'm being overwhelmed by thoughts right now and I can't effectively translate them to this medium. I started writing a lunch menu that ended up just saying "LUNCH BUFFET" which is obviously not very specific and defeats the purpose of this post.

Food is my special place. But so is reading, writing, TV/movies, music, exercise and fitness (a winning combination with food, I'm sure), fashion etc. etc.

On a slightly unrelated note, I have to express my growing skepticism towards Asian fusion food. And all that "high class Asian food" where the plates are black and desserts include pandan flavoured panna cotta. Where a bowl of laksa is $22 and there are multiple rice varieties available (brown rice, wild rice, mystery unicorn rice etc.). If I wanted a bowl of laksa (which I rarely do, laksa being my least favourite form of noodle soup and pho being my favourite), I'd go to a suburban food court, pay $9.50 and get a vat of spicy, fish ball filled goodness.

Similarly, there's something inorganic and slightly wrong about classing up roti canai as I read about on so many food blogs these days. Roti canai should involve a heaping pot of curry that everyone shares (obviously, not slurping from a communal spoon or anything. We do have slightly more class (and hygiene) than that) and a big stack of roti on a plate that everyone can grab from. I feel so sad when I see tiny bowls of sad spicy sauces and fluffily plumped rotis. It feels so incomplete. Curry is such a... Curry should be shared, it should be in abundance (2kg of chicken abundance), it should be eaten from old plates with cutlery stolen from Malaysian Airlines when they still used real metal cutlery.

I have strong feelings about this. To be fair, I think the only time I've ever really had Asian fusion food was in Melbourne in a fancy (read: expensive) restaurant my loaded uncle took us to. That's the other thing; so damn expensive. Asian food should be inherently cheap. I feel like it should be automatically associated with either the ethically questionable back streets of Malaysia or Vietnam or Taiwan or China or the warm, slightly sultry kitchens of Asian mothers (because women belong in the kitchen etc.). In both these settings, food should either be cheap as hell or free as hell.

The restaurant my uncle took us to served a roast duck salad. It was nice and tasty... but it wasn't the same. But maybe that's the point.

J

Sookie St. James

I never thought I would say this but Melissa McCarthy's comedic abilities were 78% wasted on Gilmore Girls. She was playing the wrong character the whole time. She's not suited to play an overly bubbly, accident prone chef at all. She's 100% suited to play an absurdly crude, 89% masculine cop with a penchant for profanity and week old cheese sandwiches.

That being said, if she'd played a character like Mullins or her character in Bridesmaids in Gilmore Girls, she would have stolen the show and the TV show name would no longer be appropriate. Who knew that Sookie would become the most successful actor from Gilmore Girls? (Me)

J

Querida

I have officially regressed into my 14 year old self. After watching The Princess Diaries this afternoon, I started trawling through Meg Cabot blogs and discovered she has promised to write a seventh installment into The Mediator series (my favourite Meg Cabot series in the entire world. I plan on forcing my future husband to refer to me as mi querida at all times). 

No publishing date set as she has not even written it yet but I am very excited. I don't care if I'm 30 when it comes out. I cannot wait. 

http://www.megcabot.com/2013/01/report-from-downton-cabot-life-goes-on/

J

Gupta

The Princess Diaries is and continues to be one of the finest movies ever made. I have laughed out loud so much over the last couple of hours. Even though I've watched this movie countless times, it's still hilarious, charming, sweet, heartbreaking, magnifique.

I started this post off with one paragraph but have repeatedly come back to edit and add. As such, I am turning it into a list of things I love and admire in this movie:

1. Mia in that white ball gown at The Grand Ball is the most beautiful thing in the world. In all the movies I have ever watched in my life, I don't think any actress has met that same kind of beauty. The dress, the hair, the collarbones. Immaculate perfection.

2. The soundtrack. From the opening song (teaching me since 2001 that I'm Super Girl) to the song when Mia blows off Michael's invitation to go to his band practice (too many feelings, so many emotions running away with me) to the very last song when they're dancing at The Grand Ball (yeah, miracles happen once in a while when you believe).

3. A very, very cute asparagus.

4. Two words. Foot pop.

Despite my love for this movie and the author, I have never read one Princess Diaries book. I should maybe do something about this. I think it would help with the fact that I'm still mourning the fact that Mia does not end up with Michael in the movies.

Thank you for being here today.


J