Where’s My Patbingsu?!

Apparently, if I can’t get to Malaysia for a bulk of my summer, the Malaysian weather will get to me in Moscow. The heat here is madness, and not having a fan is nothing short of torture. Get this, the hot water came back with the heat wave. How useful is that?

Unfortunately for me, I have nothing skimpy and comfortable to wear here, owing to the fact that my figure is not skimpy-wear worthy. Russians in general have no concept of sleeves nowadays. The women…Oh my God.  Bras nowhere to be found. I can’t BELIEVE I’m saying this, but if they’re not firm, round implants, do NOT skip on the bra. Really.

Summer practicals are weird. Everyone has something different to say about it. My hospital has this woman with a female angler fish stuck up her butt as the head of practicals. On the bright side, I have five days in this hospital before getting two weeks in another place and then  returning to this God-forsaken hospital. I’m hoping the next five weeks will breeze by.

All is not lost though. I don’t have to study my ass off for anything for now, so I’m free to bum around and gallivant without worrying too much about time. That is the ideal situation, of course. The truth is to date I’ve only been to one park and had lunch at a Korean restaurant which is walking distance from my hostel. So much for bumming and gallivanting, eh?

Well, that’s about it for now. Hopefully, I’ll get out of this crap-writing slump and produce better results.

I’d Like A Serving of Serenity, Please.

I’ve never really been one of those writers who only put up good pieces on their blog, but I normally DO try to keep the nonsense minimal. In light of how I’ve been feeling, I’m not going to try tonight. Let the monkey poop fly!

For reasons undisclosed, I am convinced that I am out of my damn mind. There is some crazy-ass battle going on between my principles, my faith, logic and the rest of the world. Needless to say, this is a quick and easy recipe for an emotional massacre.

Miraculously enough, with all that has been going on, there is no eczema to be seen. You have no idea how much wood I’ve just touched after writing that. If I make it through everything eczema-free, it will prove the hypothesis I’ve been toying with for the past three years. Fingers crossed, people!

At the moment, I’m probably not even in the proper state to write. I know this much: I tried to force a horse to drink water, even though it didn’t want to. Now it’s dead and I’ve been beating it senseless. And to top it all off, I’m not Roman.

I suppose all of this could be subject to interpretation. Keep in mind that this is me, so feel free to set the bar really low.

No One Jumps Into a Pile of Books, Right?

Am I awesome or what? My exams are in four days, I have 23 topics to study and here I am, happily blogging away for the five people who visit this place. I suppose I’m sort of due for an update, and blogging is a nice way to procrastinate.

  1. I took part in the student body elections that I found dodgy and boring. Don’t ask how, don’t ask why. All I know is that I’m the glorified letter-writer for the next 8 to 10 months.
  2. I’m done with my cycles for 4th year. I’m sure I would’ve gotten more done with proper time management and discipline, but 4th year has definitely given me more sleep-time than 3rd year ever offered. Imagine, I’ve had caffeine-free days this academic year!
  3. Hot water has been shut off for a week and will only return to our faucets on the 8th of June. I attempted having a cold shower, and now I am convinced my ovaries look like raisins. Thankfully, it’s warm now and there’s no need to boil large amounts of water to mix with the ice-cold water we’ve been getting.
  4. I am worried about my exams, especially Neurology. If Anatomy was my bane in 1st year, Neurology is my personal leprosy. My last resort is to offer my cousin Hera to the department as a research subject in return for a passing mark.
  5. Summer electives begin two days after my last exam. The hospital is in some God-forsaken part of Moscow, on my least favourite Metro line. No worries, ONLY six bloody weeks.
  6. Been having strange ideas relating to photography. Coming from me, this is silly because the only thing I’m worse at than photography is taking care of plants. Thanks to these ideas, I’ve been on Deviantart a lot. After all this browsing, I only have one question: why are most ‘Artistic Nude’ entries photos of either nude girls or nude girls making out with each other?

If we’re lucky, the next post won’t be all about me.

No Need For Pyramids To Be In Awe

Don’t some things just make you shake your head in awe? For instance, all the backup systems in our body to keep us alive, the way the flowers in Russia bloom in time for spring despite having about 5 months of cold and snow.. that kinda stuff. There are also people that never cease to amaze. I sure know of  a few!

1. My uncle who has some sort of built-in radar in his brain that beeps every time I sleep. That’s his cue to call me. It’s unbelievable, really. He normally calls me at 4 or 5a.m. on a Sunday just because it’s amusing. He’s all wide awake in Malaysia after Sunday Mass and he thinks it’s fun to call me to ask, “Hey! Are you sleeping?” While that is not an example of his radar working, I can find no other explanation for him calling me specifically on the day I miss class, when I’m still asleep. There’s also the time he called me when I was 30 minutes into my afternoon nap. Seriously? What is UP with him?

2. The Minkuses of the world. For those who don’t know what the heck I’m talking about, shame on you for not watching Boy Meets World. Fine, I’ll tell you. Stuart Minkus was this character in the show who spent about 60% of his time in class with his hand raised. I’m sure we’ve all had our share of them in class, the extremely eager kid who either wanted to answer every question within earshot, or wanted to question every statement made within earshot. You’d think that by the time a person reaches adulthood, they’d stop. Naaaah.

Everyone should try this sometime, either during class, or a meeting, maybe even during a seminar or lecture. This is a sure time-killer during boredom. Keep count of the number of times the Minkus in your gathering speaks out, be it to ask a question or to make a statement.

3. People who can express their festering hate for a person, detail for almost an hour about how they loathe the person, why the person deserves a slow, painful death and as soon as the target shows up, they’re the most beautiful, witty, fun, cool creature gracing the planet. Before you can wrap your head around what’s happening, plans for a shopping trip and a slumber party have been made. BFF for this life and the next seven, baby. Seriously, this doesn’t count as dissociative identity disorder?

I’ll assume that three counts as a few, and end here for today.

May I Have February Back, Please?

Today is probably not the best day to blog, seeing that not much has turned out the way I wanted it to. I’d like to dismiss it as April being a crappy month, but compared to what December usually has to offer, I’m doing great.

Therapy is over. To be perfectly honest, although I bitch about it a lot, I have a lot of fun during that cycle. It has a top-of-a-rollercoaster sort of feel to it. There’s always that tiny corner in yourself that knows that you could get screwed.

Currently, OZIZ is going on. So far, it’s been Add.Math statistics and one lecture about the Russian population. Thankfully, classes are on campus, which is a 15 minute walk so I don’t mind the cycle feeling pointless. Unfortunately,the lecture was not relate-able and my lecture notes ended up being this:

As for the statistics, I’ve never been disciplined when there’s any form of math involved, so most of my work looks like a cat barfed up numbers on to a page. My teacher did mention something about a test to get the cycle credit, which translates to, “Must decipher cat barf”. Hoorah.

It’s kinda sad that nothing much is happening besides classes, groceries and laundry. It’s even sadder still that I have no groceries and my laundry is taking up 80% of the space under my bed. The saddest of all: I think it’s perfectly fine to blog about it.

Logic dictates that I delete this post and forget that I ever typed it. But I tend to believe that stuff I write is pure gold, so logic can go suck it.

That last sentence may or may not be a joke. Such is how lousy today has been.

Fake Bitchfits; Funnier Than Fake Orgasms

For those who have not seen a fake orgasm, go watch “When Harry Met Sally”. It’s classic.

What’s a fake bitchfit? A person (namely, me) ranting about little things that don’t matter and isn’t really that cheesed off.

My list:

  1. Therapy cycle has begun. It’s not really that bad, it just means that I have to eliminate sleep, laundry, and a couple of daily meals to pass the class.
  2. The Making-Out Couple that’s also having Therapy now. I’m guessing I’d be less annoyed if the dude of the couple was a dim wart, instead of the teacher’s pet that he is. Ugh. It’s unfair that he has time to study AND get laid.
  3. The shorts that I bought for bedtime. They’re a little more….snug that I’d hoped they would be. On the bright side, if there’s anyone I’d like to murder, I’ll just have to stand in front of them in my “Daisy Dukes”.
  4. Student body elections. Dodgy and boring.
  5. The absence of my parcel. The primary reason I bought shorts that can masquerade as underwear.

I stand corrected. If this is a fake bitchfit, Meg Ryan was way funnier.

Because Everyone Else Is Doing It…

As always, I have an idea for a post in mind, but I’ll have to wait for a boring lecture to come up with the right words for it. That should be in about three weeks. For now, I’m just writing because everyone seems to be updating, and I don’t want to be left out.

Well, um…..uh….

Weather’s getting better. You have no idea how much I appreciate that. Now I get to walk, not skate on sidewalks. I’ve rekindled my love affair with the warmth of the sun on my face (Fear not. I ALWAYS use protection..heheh).

Lent will be over in approximately 8 days. On one hand, I’ve been good about not eating red meat and poultry. On the other, my thoughts and words are not coinciding with the spirit of the fast. In my opinion, that counts as a fail. Oh well, with God’s will I hope to live the rest of my days with greater awareness.

Oh yeah, I think the cold was literate. It got the hint and left the day after my previous post. I am pleased to announce that my skin is well moisturized, my rate of hair loss has resumed to normal (by my standards, at least) and I’m back to thinking that I’m the best damned shower songstress around.

That’s all, folks!

An Open Letter To My Cold

Dear Cold,

Every year, you visit me for a week. Although you have never been welcome, you’ve always known that by the 6th day, your bags ought to be packed so that on the 7th, you can go make someone else’s life miserable.

This year, your timing has been awful and you’ve been the most unpleasant guest. It’s Day 7, what the FUCK are you still doing here?!!

You come waltzing in just when I have plans. Everything was going well. Classes had begun and I was being somewhat disciplined. I had my strategy all out for my mission: to be able to pull this look off

Laugh all you want, Cold. It was working out great, then you came along. Thanks to you, I’ve consumed more food in one meal than I normally do in a whole day. After eating that much, you’re probably pleased to know that I can’t reach my toes anymore, much less exercise.Feed the cold, starve the fever. MY ASS.

I tried being nice. I thought I’d ease you out gently with lots of fluids, hot showers and rest. I even laid off meds. But NOOOOOO…. you just have to be the purulent nightmare that you are. You’ve made my hair fall, my skin dry and my voice hoarse (not in that sexy Sophia Bush way, either).

You know what? SCREW YOU. Screw you and the mucus you bring. Try overstaying your welcome. I dare you.

I will flush you out with my arsenal of weapons. Don’t think for one moment that just because it’s Lent and I can’t have chicken soup or sambal that you are spared from my wrath. Sure, my immune system appears to still be on a break but I have money and access to nasal sprays. Plus I have a fresh batch of Vaporub.

You’ll be sorry, Cold.

Sincerely,

Sasha “Tonsil-free” Zuleika

February; Labor, Love and Lent

As February draws to a close (there’s only a week left, you know), it’s high time I note how eventful the month has been and will continue to be.

February marks the beginning of my second semester, and it began with Obstetrics. For many years, I’ve dabbled with the idea of specializing in this field. Now that I’ve been through five weeks of class (this includes my first sem), I’ve decided that Obstetrics is probably not my thing. A good indication would be me passing out during a Cesarean section. In my defense, the surgeon was pulling the baby out with a forceps while his assistant was prying the woman’s uterine walls apart with her hands. Poor baby. The huge bugger (4kgs) was practically oozing stress. I also understand why many female obstetricians opt out of motherhood. Gosh, the number of things that can go wrong….no wonder it’s called “the miracle of birth”.

February 14th was the double whammy of Chinese New Year and St.Valentine’s Day. Theoretically,neither celebration has anything to do with me, but I’m Malaysian (any public holiday is my public holiday) and opinionated. As such, I’m obliged to say a few words.

Chinese New Year is awesome because there’s food involved, and this time around it’s the year of the Tiger. Grrr. Although I’m an Ox and am bound to be bitten in the ass by the Tiger, I’m looking into experiences in the previous year of the Tiger to predict my upcoming year. Let’s see: short, fat, braces, class full of bullies, awful clothes, The Moffatts, Mix FM…Um, maybe not so awesome after all.

Valentine’s Day was as uneventful as ever, which didn’t quite matter because I don’t care much for it anyway. I mean, just because some priest was romantic at heart and went around marrying off people who weren’t supposed to be married, and then got killed for it does not make it perfectly okay to force guys of, oh I don’t know, 17 CENTURIES later to buy overpriced flowers, trinkets and gourmet dinners on the 14th of February. It just doesn’t feel right to MAKE a person be all lovey dovey on one specific day. Shouldn’t “Valentine’s Day” be on any day a person feels like it? I know some girls are thinking, ‘well, the guys aren’t the only ones making an effort. We do our fair share.” Let’s be honest. Most guys don’t give a toss. And a fraction of the guys who do are either recipients of positive reinforcement for remembering (i.e got lucky) or they’ve been conditioned by the trauma of forgetting whilst with previous girlfriends.

February has also ushered in good ol’ Lent. It’s amazing how not eating red meat and poultry is an effortless task during any day except the ones between Ash Wednesday and Easter Sunday. However, I’ve been good for the past two Lenten periods and I intend to continue this streak for this year as well. I’ve got a strategy; sell myself short. Whenever I tell myself that I probably can’t make it, and that I should take each day as it comes, it works out fine. Hopefully, now that I’ve made it public, I’ve not jinxed the whole thing.

As this is being written, Defender of the Fatherland Day a.k.a Mens’ Day has not arrived, but the 4-day weekend that accompanies it already has. This holiday promises plans of a Chinese New Year semi-open house, futsal league (My Dn’C jersey is washed, the boys had better do it proud by winning their match), a Chinese restaurant lunch and studying for a replacement class.

Perhaps it’s because February is so short that it feels like it is bursting with life, but I refuse to question anything that gives me a reason to blog. 🙂

The Fine Wine List

I like men. That may be putting it mildly, but let’s not get ahead of ourselves. I like many different sorts of men, but my absolute favourite group is the one that consists of awkward, gangly young dudes who look more and more like manly men ( as the K-Pop Addict would put it, Cervix Punchers) as time passes. These men are the ones who make the fine wine list.

Truthfully, there are a number of guys who make the list (mainly because I’m not particularly fussy), but although compiling names and looking for “Before” and “Now” pictures was a great break time activity, once my exams were over the thrill of the search was gone and I got lazy. So, what could have easily been a drool-worthy list of ten to fifteen gorgeous creations is now a lip-licking list of four. I know, I know. Even I don’t like myself for being such a lazy twat.

Usually, I’d gush over these fellas and give a detailed explanation as to why I’ve picked them, but I think the pictures will do enough justice. Here we go!

1. Gerard Butler

Butler during his Phantom singing days

Butler during his Phantom singing days

Look what a few years and major working out can do:

The cause of racing hearts and busted eye capillaries

The cause of racing hearts and busted eye capillaries

2. Daniel Henney

Okay, not many people know him but thanks to his “fine wine” gene, he’s getting noticed more. Really, I wouldn’t ever give this a second glance:

Even the happy trail is doing nothing for me

Even the happy trail is doing nothing for me

This chap (thankfully) has realized that less is more and over time has stopped trying too hard, resulting in this:

Only an artist like God can create such luscious lips...

Only an artist like God can create such luscious lips...

3. Ryan Reynolds

We all know him from his Van Wilder and Two Guys and a Girl (sitcom, not porn) antics. Sure, he was always getting the girls and was portrayed as the dude who always landed on his feet, but not because of his looks. No, no…it was his ability to churn out all those lines without looking like a giant corn cob. I mean, if this guy came up to you and didn’t say a word, what would you do?

Add a couple of zits and you'll have your average high school geek

Add a couple of zits and you'll have your average high school geek

But if THIS man looked at you from a across a room, don’t you think you’d sweat out about 47% of your bodily fluids? I know I’d be admitted for severe dehydration…

A testament to the perks of growing older

A testament to the perks of growing older

4. Jay Sean

OKAY. I admit, he’s the whole reason this list business came about. I wanted an excuse to put his picture up on my blog, since he’s become the latest victim of my fan-girling habit. Some (i.e. anyone who’s known him since ‘Eyes On You’ was released in 2003) may consider me extremely outdated. In my defense, he used to look like this:

Can you say, "Wannabe"?

Can you say, "Wannabe"?

The hair, the pose….everything screamed “Schoolboy!”. And he was in his early 20’s. He was cute, and that was all. If anyone remembers his video for the song ‘Stolen’, they’d probably remember Bipasha Basu looking like a paedophile with him as her date. If he’d looked like this back then….well, this post wouldn’t exist. Behold:

He makes me misspell "H-A-W-T"

He makes me misspell "H-A-W-T"

And there you have it, a glimpse of the Fine Wine List. I really do wish I had the focus to do right by the men who deserve to be up here and aren’t, but it’s not my fault my exams are done with and I have no reason to procrastinate.