Despite what she said to make it sound like she didn't mean it at the end of little 'rant' that the student was supposed to paraphrase and summarise, one cannot help but wonder that it's probably what she did think. People, deep down, probably all are agreed on the fact that you are what you are because of what you did. But for the most part, when it comes to some things, we tend to disagree vehemently simply because we know we should, simply because it's PC-friendlier to do so, simply because to avoid the label of being someone who discriminates. But I think I've let myself down too much already. Knowing that drastic actions doesn't seem to work with me, I'll just try and take it slow and build up on it. That little bit of air, that little bit of flatness I crave, will it come?

Belle is down here for a four-day holiday. Wasn't planning to really go to the food fest that OMSA is having, but then since SL can't make it any other time, it just ended up we all agreeing to meet there then. I wonder if I should tell her that Hx can be said to be officially kaput? I wonder if I should instead hide the real truth? I wonder if I should just avoid that topic altogether? Or would I be spared having to think of which one to choose by her asking instead? Sigh. I think it's time to stop feeling guilty. Pssh, easier said than done. But the heck, I think I should start listening and stop being such an idealist. Surely I'm allowed to be lousy once in a while... Does it make it not anyone's fault anymore? Read the ambiguous 'it happens'.

On the same note, I wonder why I even bother worrying about trying for tops. Everything in this screwed up course is pass and fail anyway. If no ones else is gonna give a **** about it, I'm not going to anymore. But why the heck that guy with the bow tie must be so insistent about research? I'm not a frickin' research freak like you ok? I'm, for shit's sake, a med student, not some idiot who wanna look up and collate what other people have done! I signed up for this stupid course for a totally different reason! If I want to do proper research I'll do it properly, in a proper time span that would be more than a month. This certainly puts me off wanting to apply for summer research. Though I'll probably still check out the boards anyway. At least then I wouldn't feel as bad not doing the year off.

With it being so far into the year now, I think I should stop doing groceries unless really necessary, and I mean really really, otherwise I'm going to be in trouble like last year end. And once I've done with all that disgusting flesh freezing in my freezer, I think I might give going lacto-ovo a try. How long before that can even happen I've no idea, considering how much meat to how much I usually consume. Thinking of having to chop up the beef later also makes me wanna gag. I think I need to give it some soaking first actually. How could I forget that box of gloves from last year?!

Starting on my readings for the electives again. Doing the readings, they turn out more interesting than the seminars themselves. Unless when he plays videos of course. From the one he played yesterday, it seems that dying people just get by with goal-setting, by having aims and having something to look forward to and live for. None of the people portrayed have all those crazy last minute aspirations you hear of though, like climbing such-and-such mountain. My heart hurts when I watch something like this. Not because they are dying (I did love the cute old man they featured though), but rather how long it's taking. But I'm applying my own principles of what a good death means here, rather than their own. It's nice to have some time before the last light bulb dies so that one can have time to set one's things in order, but then having to face the pain for so long, having to watch your loved ones watch you die for so long, having to live with the uncertainty for so long... *typical control freak talking??*

Okay, maybe back to my first paragraph. Can one be blamed for one's features? I never asked for chink features, I never asked to be the gender that I am. Can it be my fault? But then again, why even worry when it's something one cannot change? Or can it now? Mr Jackson is no longer black. But then what does that say about oneself when one has to change one's features so drastically? I crave pan-asian features, but that doesn't mean I don't want my typical chink face either. I'd still rather be a boy (not so desperately now), but that doesn't mean I want to give up being female either to be something that only knows how to grunt when necessary either. I love my black hair, but I would love being a red-head. Does it mean that I'm demeaning myself when I try to change my features? What does it mean when I choose to dye my hair? What would it mean if I chose to have a nose job done had I not a straight nose? Does it mean I'm demeaning my parent's as well? Perhaps if I get really desperate one day then I shall not even worry about such things and just 'do it'??

http://larafairie.deviantart.com/

Having talked a little with some friends back from high school makes me wish for old times. What I have now, I think I would rather give up for those times, if it only were possible. Some of the best times of my life were back then. Even with all those ugly class division problems and all the hurt it entailed, back when we were as a group working on our little History projects, back when we even stayed up overnight working together. And back to being around people who I know and love dearly, even though the time spent together was sometimes too short, and sometimes even when it was with persons that didn't reciprocate. Back when my enthusiasm for my uniform body and music was what I needed to get me through hard times. Having read such thoughts on a contact's blog, it's a comfort knowing that I'm not the only one here feeling as such sometimes. Easy for one to say 'live for the future', but then life isn't as easy as tossing around words, humans were never rational beings to start with.

I wonder occasionally how different things would have been if I did things back then differently? Would I still be here if I hadn't insisted that I didn't want to study back home? Would I still go on to do Med if I had insisted on my childhood dreams? Would I feel and look different today if I had chosen to not change classes back in high school? Would I have different values today had I moved over to the island earlier? Is this where stories of parallel worlds like DWJ's came from?

Thinking back to yesterday, the whole group I was in was of the opinion that the paternalistic model was the equivalent of evil, and the covenant model was the ultimate good medical practice. But then is that true? Do we think that simply because of all the info and opinions of our lecturers have been drilling into us since last year? Is this a form of coercion? We might want to speak otherwise, but then knowing what others want and expect of us, we say exactly what they want to hear. Is that what happens when a doctor gives recommendations to patients? Am I leading a coerced life? Having gone to the traditional Chinese-medium school meant that from young, age old 'Asian'/ 'Confucian' thoughts and values were pounded into my little ignorant head. Not that it's all that bad I guess, but then again I wonder how I might be like now if I had chosen to rebel and do things differently.

Why do I constantly worry about things that I needn't worry about? Simply because I want to be free and be independent, simply because I don't want to rely on others and be the little child any more. But somehow, in the mist of all that, I've bound myself down in some other ways. Can a person never be truly free? Am I knowingly going to throw myself into a future where I shall always be caged? Do I want that? I've asked that many times over, but I cannot give myself an answer. But I've gone so far now, dare I turn back? Wouldn't that just be wasting my efforts?.... But isn't that idea simply reflecting one of those little dusty proverbs that I learnt as a child? Had I learned otherwise, would I still have uttered that little question then?

And all my elective has done isn't to actually make me contemplate death or it's issues, a little perhaps, but more to think back on the ideas of symbolism. As I had posted sometime before, the word dirty is just a symbol. A word-symbol if you please, of states or things that we do not approve of. What does that make clean then? And a couple more other words which I shan't post here for fear of offending. I don't believe in an afterlife as in the conventional sense, but I do in immortality. Literally they might not make sense. But they do, if one knows that I never meant them literally anyway. But would others even realise it in the first place unless I told them?

Who can I trust? Who do I want to trust? Can one have a relationship of any kind without trust? Perhaps this is a leading question. But then against what I think and know in my head, I do. And it's a thing I've done many times over as well. And when I do, and think about it, I kick myself. And go back to doing the same thing. Smart.

Why am I even talking nonsense here I don't know...

If We Hold On Together

Don't lose your way
With each passing day
You've come so far
Don't throw it away
Live believing
Dreams are for weaving
Wonders are waiting to start
Live your story
Faith, hope & glory
Hold to the truth in your heart

If we hold on together
I know our dreams will never die
Dreams see us through to forever
Where clouds roll by
For you and I

Souls in the wind
Must learn how to bend
Seek out a star
Hold on to the end
Valley, mountain
There is a fountain
Washes our tears all away
Words are swaying
Someone is praying
Please let us come home to stay

If we hold on together
I know our dreams will never die
Dreams see us through to forever
Where clouds roll by
For you and I

When we are out there in the dark
We'll dream about the sun
In the dark we'll feel the light
Warm our hearts, everyone

If we hold on together
I know our dreams will never die
Dreams see us through to forever
As high as souls can fly
The clouds roll by
For you and I


After so many hours of sighing, waiting, sighing and more waiting, I've finally got it! I finally got this song! ^^! It was the only one out of the whole album I wanted, but I had no choice but to download the whole thing, so download it I did. Muahahaha!

Lab wasn't that great. Asked Prof Doyle about the Hangman's fracture. Turns out you die by either giving your cervical spine such a nasty shock that switches you off, or you totally transect it. Ugh. Skipped the prosections and for the first time in how many labs, I watched my group's dissection. I felt a little guilty after Alice asked if we should check up on our group's progress. Took some effort to push away thoughts of barfing, and even managed to do some sawing on the mandible. After nearly sawing off the tip of one finger, it became less of ew-I'm-sawing-a-jaw to damn-it-I'm-gonna-saw-through-this-no-matter-what-it-takes. LOL. I'm inclined to feel a little proud of myself, but considering what a sissy I had been all this while, I'll keep my gob shut. There, can my head fit in the potty now, huh? Huh??!

Target: Rawr! I want Adobe Photoshop. Once I get an upgrade from my dino, I'm gonna get my hands on a copy of the program!

Red Algae

After a week or so of cabbages, or rather, frozen cabbage, and some carrots, I thought it was time for a change. So during my last shopping trip on Friday I snapped up a swede and a pumpkin, forgetting my previous troubles with chopping up pumpkin.

I succeeded in halving the pumpkin and chopping it up yesterday night. Using the cleaver, I gave it a good twack. If the story was as simple as the pumpkin then fell apart like the pineapple in the advert for some blades that looked much like samurai swords, this post wouldn't even make it here. Using as much force as I could generate with whatever muscles I had in my upper arms, I pushed and heaved against the cleaver, hoping to get it through partway. Not a single movement. Puppy, using tried to help, but then I doubt if human hands are actually meant to be hammers in the first place. Talking about hammers, I recalled having dumped the blue ice blocks in the cupboard under the sink just then. And they were there! And they were essentially the heroes in this story. With much heaving and grunting and sighing, I finally split the darn orange thing into two. I won't speak as well of the looks I got from my flatmates, and they certainly weren't looks of admiration, more along the lines of 'Yy's gone mad/ What a cave(wo)man!!' than anything else.

I thought that would be the end of my troubles. LOL, how wrong I was. I hadn't counted on the stupid round swede to give me the same problem! ARgGhh! The swede was harder to halve than the pumpkin *faints*, a fact that I realised as soon as the cleaver went in, for the cleaver just wouldn't come out again! In the end, RJ had to tug at it while I held down the swede just to get it out. And again, blue ice block was the hero of the day. Even so, it took even longer than the pumpkin because the swede was a full block of swede goodness, while the pumpkin had a big hole in it where it stored it's seeds.

The guy working in the vegetable section in NW had suggested boiling the swede or boiling and then mashing it with carrots. But hey, aren't potatoes just boiled as well? I need potatoes for the chicken kurma I wanted to make for next week, but I don't have potatoes. You started to get my drift here? Heh heh. After testing to see how long it would take to boil a piece of swede, which wasn't too long, the rest of swede halve was cubed up and in it went along with the chicken drums to make the kurma (I did microwave the swede cubes a little though, just in case :P!). Haven't tasted it how it's like this way yet, but if plain swede was mildly sweet (and un-starchy unlike potatoes, which was why I ended up using cornflour just to thicken the whole thing) I guess it should taste good. But I doubt if I would want to cook swede again in a hurry, considering how much work it is just to cut it up.... *eeps* and I still have half a swede left to work on!

The pumpkin I curried, with some mix I came up with all the spices I had on hand, along with the belacan powder, and came out not too bad. Probably a little more dried shrimp, some ginger, and a little less pumpkin (which was sweeter than I had thought it would be) and lots less microwaving and simmering, and it would be close to what mummy's curried pumpkin is like. Needless to say I think that I shall be feeding quite happily next week ^^!

First lecture of the day? Pharmacology of sex hormones. Not sure of the significance of this lecture, but I'm certainly not too happy at being dragged out of bed for such a ... [*worthless*] lecture.

Following lecture was more interesting. Three individuals who are part of PFLAG and of the gay community (one was the mother of a son who gay) were there to share their experiences. One of the interesting comparisons that one of the guys made was that of left-handers, which I think was almost appropriate, except as he had pointed out, was lacking in the degree of social stigma attached to it - I never chose to be left-handed, there's varying degrees to left and right handedness as I realised from my participation in an experiment few years ago now.... though I do remember my mummy clamping her iron grip around my tiny right hand as a child, desperately trying to teach to me write with my right hand so that I will write with my 'right' (as in correct) hand. Mum eventually gave up though and accepted my left-hand writing tendencies... I wonder if the same will happen if I popped this up at the dinner table one day: "mum... I'm gay"?? Turns out as well that the nuns teaching during my mum's childhood were ardent users of the rulers, intent on wreaking pain on the knuckles of any child who proved so deviant as to write with the wrong hand, as I was told some time after. *yeowch*

Other stuff I learnt today:
~ that according to DSM IV, inability to orgasm = dysfunctional. And more than half of females don't during penetrative sex alone. Useless info that will probably float out of my mind into outer space and be lost soon.
~ that the dog I saw humping the floor on youtube some time ago could actually be masturbating as well... *painful smile* [turns out that one of the studies done listed rubbing the penis against the bed was one way for males to masturbate... I'm just *ahem* drawing my own conclusions here]
~ the concept of something as 'dirty' is due to cultural, societal and other influences. There's nothing that is intrinsically dirty. There's no one thing that is classified as dirty across all cultures. [I think sweat is dirty, I think moss is dirty, I think animals that roam around free are dirty, I can't bring myself to eat raw meat unless I've no choice because I think it's dirty, no matter whatever certificates of cleanliness it has... I don't think my bedsheets are dirty if I don't wash them for half a year though *grin*]
~ I'm not the only one who think that my reading for last week was horrid and overly graphic and depressing... apparently the lecturer's anthropology students think so too.

And I've got three more readings to do before next Friday... cross my fingers and hope it's not as bad...

Having finally finished my readings for the upcoming elective class this Friday, I confess I really don't really know what to make of them. The first paper was based on a study in Australia and was, or rather what I think it was, about how the hospice movement went from being focused on helping patients acheive a good death by providing symptom management such as pain relief, to that 'respect patient's autonomy thingy and so make sure you ask what they want and do it' thing so that they can have a good death, and finally to focusing on providing a 'good enough death' because some things the patient ask for you can't provide e.g. euthanasia. The second was what made me depressed for the larger part of this afternoon, about how the hospice was mainly a place for the sequestration of patients that were 'unbound'. Unbound as in where the bodies don't stay within their boundaries anymore, from leaking fluids uncontrollably to producing pungent and to put it mildly, 'unpleasant' smells.

Ok, I can see links between them. I have a very vague idea what the readings were supposed to convey to me, but vague wasn't good enough to translate into a reading log. But I did write out reading log for the latter, in which I detailed my ideas/ feelings that came out of reading it. I don't have a problem with that, except for the fact that those feelings weren't my real feelings. I don't really have any specific ideas about the hospice service that came about from reading it. All I felt was just a really profound sadness and a sense of disbelief and deep horror within me, that nothing could be done for the 'unbounded' patients to alleviate their pain, physically and also more importantly, emotionally.

I'm starting to wonder, despite all these stuff they are teaching us in SI, despite all our little trips up to various hospitals and what-nots, if they are actually all just a watered down, sanitised version of what things are actually like. All I've seen, is it all just an untrue version of how bad things can really get? I'm in denial. I don't want to believe what I've read in my readings, especially this second paper that I've gone through. I can't bring myself to believe that that 67 year old lady died in such terrible conditions. Even if we can't cure that cancer, even if we can't stop it spreading further, with all our advances, surely, surely we can at least do something to have preserve what last bit of dignity she had as a person... In my reading log I tried to be positive, saying that that last sentence wasn't true, that her choice of passing in a hospice gave her that last bit. After writing all that crap, I still haven't convinced myself. I don't think I'll convince anyone with that either.

I wanna cry T_T...

From www.quilted-lizard.com

Interview went well, or so I hope. I'm now wondering why on earth I was so afraid and nervous before it. Seriously, had my sphincters been weaker, I might have actually pee-ed on myself. Yes, I was that afraid. After all those bad experiences, worry and what-not last year doing those interviews, I was left with a deep-seated fear... from which I have finally escaped! Turns out five minutes isn't so hard to fill as I had thought. A fact which I think I'm still... subconciously celebrating, for I'm oddly filled with a sense of acheivement every time I think of my tape. Not that I never made it to five minutes before, but it's a five minutes interview that I didn't really prepare for as well as I had last year... Time to stop blowing my trumpet I think. Though after doing my transcription (a very painful hour I tell you! I'm thoroughly sick of hearing my own (and the actor patient's) recorded voice *grimace*), I wondered if I should have been exploring less his worries and asked a bit more about what he actually did and so on. I kept running FIFE through my head and in between, used silence to hopefully make the patient say more... it took quite some time before he actually opened up. And I wonder if my face actually looked like it was showing empathy... seemed to me that I was rather cold and emotionless. *shrug*

I wonder if there's a point living if there's no quality of life. I guess my SI tutor last year was right. Last year, our SI's were meant to be ones with happy endings. At that time I questioned it. But then now that I've done one or two I've come to realise that I should expect to feel a bit depressed at the end of the tutes. It's not that they are really bad endings, but the most recent one where to me her suffering was just drawn out for a period than was necessary reminded me about some stuff I read for my death, dying and post-mortem practices - what constitutes bad deaths and good deaths. A bad death where the 'event' is drawn out and painful, where one has no say in what happens and where one is just not prepared for it and so on, which kind of suits my personal definition. But then again, I guess what sort of death one has depends on what sort of idea one has about dying, rather than having a set definition based on the norms of the period we are in. So, while I might be sad that so and so died with a painful sort of crippling disease, she probably didn't think so. But that still doesn't make it any less depressing somehow.

Watched, for the first time in my life, tortoise porn and other bits of animal porn. *wince* How do I describe the experience? Disturbing. I guess youtube.com had a damn good reason why it was labelled R18. It's totally skewed, polluted, destroyed... the innocent image of tortoises in my mind. In my kiddie's mind, tortoises don't have sex organs. Tortoises don't get horny and chase tortoises of the opposite sex. In short, tortoises don't perform coitus!! And animals don't masturbate. Animals don't try and rape humans or the floor or the farm truck or smell their paws after touching themselves and other what-nots... T_T... and interspecies mating is just... just... disturbing. Cat and dogs? What the heck is gonna come out of that? Mutant alert! Mutant alert! Just as well such things don't produce anything... *double wince*

I'm pleased (*drips sarcasm*) to note as well that times haven't changed much. For all I know, we might still as well be stuck in the dark ages, for all our tendencies to hate and love of war-mongering. What's happened to love and good-will amongst people? What's the point of wishing people all manner of good blessings only at church/ mosques/ temples when afterwards some go out and continue being biased or disliking people with skin of different colours? What's the point of having religion when one is still stuck in the pool of dislike for differences? I'm not sure about you, my dear reader, but this only serves to strengthen my dislike for organised religion where control is always the main issue rather than to promote what I think should be the actual message, it only serves to deepen my beliefs that I should stear clear and keep my freedom... I shan't say perhaps that I should hope that the world will wake up one day and be rid of organised religion, but perhaps I should change my ideals to one less radical, that one day perhaps people can overlook differences. But then after my 20 plus years of living, knowing that skin colour has always been an issue, knowing that there can be such things as tick your religion in boxes, knowing that there can be biases based on what sort of jobs you have, what sort of people you know... that's an impossibility. Whatever, but meanwhile I shall keep myself clear from hypocrisy as much as possible and my freedom. May everyone else keep theirs. Perhaps we should remember that people died just so that peace and love may prevail.

On the same note, sometimes I wonder about the wisdom about the advice that are given occasionally to others on gf forums. Maybe one doesn't have to go as far as interspecies, but sometimes I do wonder how well I will fare with differences myself. I remind myself that differences are what makes things unmonotonous, but then again, differences can be likened to bumps that can produce friction. But then again, like someone pointed out, closing my eyes to the differences in one person, but not to another, can one live with oneself like that? I think probably yes, until we realise what we have had been doing all along.

I'm facing the reality of parting again once again in my life come end of this year. The probability of my whole group being together still has been long gone, which is just something that I had chosen to ignore as a fact until I had voiced it out loud to myself sometime ago. That inner self is starting to scream out 'what to do now?' again. I don't just want family around. I want the friends that I've gotten familiar with too. One don't just part with precious jewels frivolously! Even though promises are made here and there, it's just hard to remain positive at times that the possibility that we might become strangers unto each other might not become reality. This thought has been popping up again now and then in my mind since then and is so very hard to quieten. I wonder.

Now that I've found out that the exchange rate is a whopping 2.8, I'm wondering if I should make my 'pilgrimage' to meca07. It looks so interesting. Add in the fact that it's in Dud this year, which is a plus. Should I? Can I? May I? I'm afraid that I shouldn't delay my decision for too long but I can't quite make up my mind. Add in the fact that my rent is going through this weekend and the thought of fishing out the money for the event just seems somewhat unpalatable. How now? How?

I wonder if I should commit time as well to spca. I'm not sure where the centre is but if I have to go there do volunteer, I sure hope it isn't too far. I'm not sure if I'm big-hearted enough to walk long distances just to be useful. But I think, now with HX essentially defunct, I need something to distract me from med school as well. I can't stick myself in front of the oven or stove for long for knowing me, it's probably going to hit it's off-peak season soon now. Fingers crossed.

Haven't been posting for quite a while due to a naughty internet connection and my obsession at having a picture with each post (which I obviously have relaxed somewhat now *frowns*). Started another module, IIC and also regional and clinical anatomy. The latter I've not been enjoying at all, simply because at the moment we've been doing the muscles and nerves and what not in and around the face and neck region, regions that I had hoped never to have to touch or look at in a cadaver. Yes, we're doing dissections in that area. Oops. Did I mention we? I've been... *ahem* abstaining from doing any dissections actually, letting the few group mates who happen to be enthusiastic about it do the dirty work of finding a so and so nerve or vessel such and such, choosing to flit about the prosections and models instead. The first time we had the dissection where we had to reveal the superficial muscles of the cheek area must be the first time I came *this* close to purging my breakfast. Though come to think of it, considering the amount of fats I've been slowly packing away, maybe not such a bad thing? Lol.

The international food fest and Telecom wearable arts exhibition was on yesterday in the link area. Didn't manage to catch the exhibition/ catwalk because of the time we spent looking for food. The crowd and queues at the coupon booth (sad, they need a more efficient way to sell their coupons I say!) and the various food stalls were just phenomenal. Bo, puppy and I all went around the stalls looking to see what was available, and were slightly let down by the fact that there wasn't many stalls around. There was one by the Sri Lankans, the Taiwanese club, Bei wang (not sure what they are about still), the Thais, the Japan club and the Muslim association. Did I miss out any?? Ended up getting the Arabian rice with chicken (rice was a bit plain, but chicken was nice, though perhaps the piece was a bit much!) and the dessert box (heavenly! but I wish I knew the names. The biscuity one reminded me a lot of the ghee cookies from home which I absolutely love, and the sticky roll-up thingy with caramel on the outside and pastry with some sort of mild cheese was lovely too) from the Muslim stall, and used up my total of six bucks. I thought I had spent too much time waiting just to get the food, but Bo and puppy took even longer, so I guess I got lucky. Bo got two packs of food from the Sri Lankan stall, and puppy decided it would be fun to torture himself by going through a couple of queues at a few different stalls *lol*.

Reminded by Sh yesterday that I eventually will have to sort out my accomodation for next year. I'm intent on staying with my sis (geez, otherwise what a waste of my effort choosing Chch - warning to worm: don't you dare move off now!), and options will have to be explored soon. I wonder (1) what sort of exceptions can the uni make for me, (2) how lucky do I have to get to be an RA, (3) the price range, area and what agent or whatnot I should be looking for. *shrug* Another problem would be moving my stuff up North as well. Gosh, I've been moving about non-stop every year for about 3, going on 4 years now. I'm terribly sick of it, I doubt if I'm cut out to be a nomad, but then again getting to live in different houses and places isn't too bad an experience, but the dreaded packing.... *groans*

Posting from med lib at the moment. I'm waiting for my turn at doing my interview at 12.40pm. I'm not sure how lucky it is to get the scenario that we were shown on video during the first workshop, but might as well be resigned to my fate and give my best shot at not laughing out loud during the interview or peeing in my pants from the simple fear of interviews. Okay, maybe not to the extent of peeing, but I think nana would be well advised to send over some *ahem* happy pills asap before my second interview for I'm having palpitations now. Don't really see the point of these interviews, especially when there's been such a great time lapse in between my last one and this upcoming one for I've practically forgotten everything. I'd rather it be a regular thing just like these Cal tests we've been having. Hope I don't laugh, hope I don't laugh, hope I don't laugh.....

First class for my elective today this afternoon. Can't wait for it actually. I'll confess to not being too enthusiastic about it initially, but now after having done my readings, I'm looking forward to it. The readings have been very interesting, about mainly how views and practices have changed over time (in general and in Old England). After having been away from the main campus all these while, I'll have to try and recall where Castle a is now lol. How sad that all I know is mainly St Dave's and Colquhoun and Gowland theatres and few other places around the hospital. Didn't even realise until yesterday night how much union food court has changed. I must try out the food there one day, and the $3 lunch at Club and Socs before I make my escape to other not-so-warm places :P.

Since coming down with the flu at Wormy's, the headaches just doesn't really seem to stop, except in the mornings. And I need to find a plug for my nose too. It's getting plain annoying having to worry about wether I'm gonna spring a leak in front of someone :( And since reaching good ole' Dud on Monday night, the weather has been surprisingly mild for winter. Or at least milder than what I had expected. Hopefully it keeps it up for longer.

Thanks to Sh for the mee sua. Had some today with her soup which was really flavourful (and colourful!!). Reminds me of mum's tendency to make it with soup. I wonder why the ones that grandma make that I remember is the dry version that she makes during CNY? Mmmm... thinking of it makes me wish for both her homemade yam balls and tofu/ protein balls T_T

And one new thing in my shopping basket -- vegetarian sausages. Bought it for fun and will see how much I like them. Seems like it's made mostly off soy bean products. And I'm still in the justifying stage about the gluten flour. I want my vegetarian meat, but I'm not desperate enough for it yet though.

Before I forget as well... the lyrics to Marotiri and the poi song:

E rere taku poi
E rere taku poi
Ki runga

E rere taku poi
E rere taku poi
Ki raro

E rere runga
E rere raro
E rere waho
E rere roto

E rere taku poi
E rere taku poi
Ki runga

===================

Marotiri te maunga
Ko Hauini te awa
Ko Ruataupare te iwi
Ana o mokopuna e (x2)

Tangihia nga tupuna
Koe ngaro i te po
Hi awe awe

Maranga Marotiri e
Tu mai he karere
Mihi atu ki nga iwi
Rawa no te powhiri (x2)

Te powhiri Taki Rua Toru xx Hi aue hi