I'm not recruiting today.
Simply...
Because I'm tired.
Because I'm overworked.
Because I'm stressed.
Because I'm a whingey, conflicted, irritating person to be around.
Because I've just ingested cow's milk.
Because tonight I have to go make some more stupid calls to alumni.
Because I've eaten too many biscuits at work.
Because it's a Tuesday, and people are only nice on Monday and Friday mornings.
Because I miss him.
Because I get home at 10 pm every night.
Because I want to spend all day reading blogs.
Because I want to finish the book I've been reading for two weeks.
Because I want to take a holiday, right now.
Because I feel as if AMS is bullshit.
Because my stomach is upset.
Because I still owe a ridiculous number of hours to Hypnos.
Because I want to hurry up and be a real doctor already.
Because my supervisor is useless.
Because I want to be that feverish little girl in the waiting room with her dad, watching TV and sucking on a purple icy-pole.
Monday, September 21, 2009
Sunday, September 20, 2009
The weekend nightmare
Saturday, 11:30pm. The weekend nightmare began rather inconspicuously by a few loud noises of glass breaking outside. No one in the household suspected anything, because it was near the city council’s hard waste disposal day, and as per usual there are many fossickers moving about during day and night. Someone must have dropped something.
Sunday, 10:30am. The horror of the waking nightmare struck us like a spear making a hole in our heads – or, making holes in our car. As I was about to leave home for my usual daily mice injections, mum’s distressed voice brought me quickly to the driveway. And there it was – the rear window forming a mosaic of thousands of tiny pieces of glass, surrounding two big holes, the inside of which dangles the broken layer of tint... it was sunny and warm, with white fluffy clouds decorating a beautiful blue sky... with a long slit on the left side of the rear window, completely detached from the frame except at the bottom and top... and the street was cheerful and clean, with a row of red roofs and green lawns neatly lined up on each side... except a rear light cover completely smashed, no where to be seen... leaving only a comfortable, gentle breeze caressing our faces, and greeting the street where no one else seemed to be there.
Sunday, 11:50am. The next thing I knew, I was at the police station, sympathetically nodding at the constable, who was too busy for half an hour first, and then complained that this had been the 16th case around the local area this morning, and that there would be more to come.
“Collingwood supporters, they must be.” He said in disgust.
At my raised eyebrows he added, “They just lost yesterday.”
“Oh,sorry.” I sincerely apologised, “I don’t follow footy.”
“Well, I don’t follow Collingwood anyway.”
Sunday, 12:00 pm. On Springvale Rd looking for a Car Repair Service that is not closed on Sundays, but didn’t have any luck.
“I don’t want to go to Yarra Honda for the repairs, how expensive would that be!” says mum.
“But insurance will pay.”
“ – after we pay $500 excess first, and then have raised premium next year. If a glass window costs less than $500 elsewhere then I won’t go through insurance.”
“Plus the rear light. And the tint.”
“How much would this cost anyway?”
“Why did they target us? None of our neighbours’ cars got smashed.”
“If they catch the people would we get compensation?”
“Unlikely, according to the police officer. Most of these people have no money and no job to begin with.”
If driving with no rear view was a bit scary on big roads, parking and backing out would be like walking backwards with eyes closed.
“This is not very safe. We should get it fixed ASAP.”
“And another thing, mum, you can’t park and then leave the car like this. Especially not on the street like you normally do for work.”
“Then what the hell am I supposed to do?”
Sunday, 5:15pm. I’m sitting in the train towards Glen Waverley. The sun has began to set, turning the white clouds into grey and gold, and the warmth into coolness. My head feels slightly tight and heavy, as if someone has put an iron helmet that doesn’t quite fit on it. I am thinking of the many times at late night, when I felt my heart pounding fast at the sight of a shifty looking person at the tram stop, the only person waiting there other than me. I am thinking of the drunk people singing, swearing and screaming loudly on Friday night trains, beer bottles flinging in their hands. I am thinking of of the dim-lit residential streets nearby, deserted and haunted by only the howling trees in the winds. And then I am thinking of those paranoid news reports of violent crimes in Melbourne, bloodied murders and rapes, youth gangs attacking people... And then I begin to feel homesick, a feeling that has been there constantly, but never as much and as intense as now. I miss the days when I would walk in our residential block at midnight, when there was no street light and I could barely see anything, yet there was no sense of danger... I miss the summers when it would be past 10pm and the streets would still be full of people, families sitting on the kerbs of footpaths enjoying icy poles, men and women strolling along with their dogs, neighbours chatting away, primary school children playing badminton with their parents on the footpaths... I miss the days when the only insecurity I felt was towards the pickpocketers on buses and in subways, and I miss that place called Beijing where the notion of a youth gang consisted of some of my rebellious classmates who would gang up and skate on roads at 2am in the morning, or that when they get into a fight they would pull knives through each other but would never hurt anyone else who was not involved. In fact, I would consider many of them my friends by the day.
Of course, I’m sure, malicious assault and property damage do happen on a regular basis in Beijing, as it does in Melbourne. But for a city of 13 million permanent residents 8 million temporary dwellers, violent crimes are such a rare occurrence per capita. For Melbourne’s low population density, the amount of insecurity per capita is truly something I am uncomfortable with. There are times when I am totally sick and tired of this place, and today is one such day.
Sunday, 10:30am. The horror of the waking nightmare struck us like a spear making a hole in our heads – or, making holes in our car. As I was about to leave home for my usual daily mice injections, mum’s distressed voice brought me quickly to the driveway. And there it was – the rear window forming a mosaic of thousands of tiny pieces of glass, surrounding two big holes, the inside of which dangles the broken layer of tint... it was sunny and warm, with white fluffy clouds decorating a beautiful blue sky... with a long slit on the left side of the rear window, completely detached from the frame except at the bottom and top... and the street was cheerful and clean, with a row of red roofs and green lawns neatly lined up on each side... except a rear light cover completely smashed, no where to be seen... leaving only a comfortable, gentle breeze caressing our faces, and greeting the street where no one else seemed to be there.
Sunday, 11:50am. The next thing I knew, I was at the police station, sympathetically nodding at the constable, who was too busy for half an hour first, and then complained that this had been the 16th case around the local area this morning, and that there would be more to come.
“Collingwood supporters, they must be.” He said in disgust.
At my raised eyebrows he added, “They just lost yesterday.”
“Oh,sorry.” I sincerely apologised, “I don’t follow footy.”
“Well, I don’t follow Collingwood anyway.”
Sunday, 12:00 pm. On Springvale Rd looking for a Car Repair Service that is not closed on Sundays, but didn’t have any luck.
“I don’t want to go to Yarra Honda for the repairs, how expensive would that be!” says mum.
“But insurance will pay.”
“ – after we pay $500 excess first, and then have raised premium next year. If a glass window costs less than $500 elsewhere then I won’t go through insurance.”
“Plus the rear light. And the tint.”
“How much would this cost anyway?”
“Why did they target us? None of our neighbours’ cars got smashed.”
“If they catch the people would we get compensation?”
“Unlikely, according to the police officer. Most of these people have no money and no job to begin with.”
If driving with no rear view was a bit scary on big roads, parking and backing out would be like walking backwards with eyes closed.
“This is not very safe. We should get it fixed ASAP.”
“And another thing, mum, you can’t park and then leave the car like this. Especially not on the street like you normally do for work.”
“Then what the hell am I supposed to do?”
Sunday, 5:15pm. I’m sitting in the train towards Glen Waverley. The sun has began to set, turning the white clouds into grey and gold, and the warmth into coolness. My head feels slightly tight and heavy, as if someone has put an iron helmet that doesn’t quite fit on it. I am thinking of the many times at late night, when I felt my heart pounding fast at the sight of a shifty looking person at the tram stop, the only person waiting there other than me. I am thinking of the drunk people singing, swearing and screaming loudly on Friday night trains, beer bottles flinging in their hands. I am thinking of of the dim-lit residential streets nearby, deserted and haunted by only the howling trees in the winds. And then I am thinking of those paranoid news reports of violent crimes in Melbourne, bloodied murders and rapes, youth gangs attacking people... And then I begin to feel homesick, a feeling that has been there constantly, but never as much and as intense as now. I miss the days when I would walk in our residential block at midnight, when there was no street light and I could barely see anything, yet there was no sense of danger... I miss the summers when it would be past 10pm and the streets would still be full of people, families sitting on the kerbs of footpaths enjoying icy poles, men and women strolling along with their dogs, neighbours chatting away, primary school children playing badminton with their parents on the footpaths... I miss the days when the only insecurity I felt was towards the pickpocketers on buses and in subways, and I miss that place called Beijing where the notion of a youth gang consisted of some of my rebellious classmates who would gang up and skate on roads at 2am in the morning, or that when they get into a fight they would pull knives through each other but would never hurt anyone else who was not involved. In fact, I would consider many of them my friends by the day.
Of course, I’m sure, malicious assault and property damage do happen on a regular basis in Beijing, as it does in Melbourne. But for a city of 13 million permanent residents 8 million temporary dwellers, violent crimes are such a rare occurrence per capita. For Melbourne’s low population density, the amount of insecurity per capita is truly something I am uncomfortable with. There are times when I am totally sick and tired of this place, and today is one such day.
Wednesday, September 16, 2009
So many errors in previous post!
I can't explain why the last few sentences of my last post are in italics. Oh well, meh! :P
The lab and I
I'm back here again after a month of writer's stagnancy... Apologies for random switches of topics in this post because I'm quite tired now.
For the past few weeks life at the lab has been all about brains - cut up brains, glued brains, gDNA and RNA from brains, sectioned brains, stained brains, frozen brains, imaged brains... This strange, sometimes abstract, entity 'the brain' has become something that permeates all levels in my life. I now find it hard to socialize without subconsciously or consciously thinking of brains - whether it's because the person works in an area of research that involves the brain (which is EVERYONE who passes me by in the lab, except the cleaner), or because my lab friends react differently to social situations compared to medical friends (which makes me think of environment interactions and brain plasticity), or because I'm so worried when my lab techniques troubleshooting isn't progressing that I bore any person who stands beside me with all the details of my pain and frustration. With that last point, I feel sorry for Rahul :p. Dear me .. he must be scarred now.. ^^
So far I've been enjoying work here in the lab. I like the buzz, the laughs, the talking to rats part, the exhilaration when you find there is glimmer of hope that a technique problem can be solved, the challenge when you're perfecting a technique, and (as all poor med students like) the constant inflow of free food :p. Free food can be found everywhere. If you're free enough to search throughout the hospital, you'll find free meals almost everyday, morning and lunch ;D
Besides the free food, working in the lab also provides the opportunity to bask in the glory of some seriously respectable people. Terry O’Brien and Margaret Morris at lunchtime and meetings, Neil Strathmore and Geoff McColl at the lifts in the mornings :D. I’m such a nerdy fan of people involved in education/research :p. Apparently I’m not the only one being a nerdy fan – occasionally Mithun would drop by for lunch and give us a very ambitious talk on meeting the ‘Big Dogs’.
But perhaps what makes up the most enjoyable experience in the lab are the people working in it full time. For one, I’m glad that Rahul is always there with me and always keeps me company at lunchtime, in the office, etc. An interesting yet embarrassing confession to make is that I occasionally sing in the lab when there’s only the two of us doing work(mainly because it can get quite boring) :p. . Other than Rahul, I’m thankful that I have friendly supervisor Nigel who is actually quite child at heart – something that this immature person in me can relate to (besides to Rahul). Therefore, I feel comfortable around my supervisor, a little too comfortable perhaps. Sometimes I hurl some childish taunts at him and start some taunting war, jokingly, of course. Amusingly, he is also like a dad to me – telling me not to run in lab everytime I do so (which is almost 80% of my moving around time anyways). Guess I’m a bit of a handful as a student. The other people around in the lab are also incredibly helpful, with those precious few always being around to help you whenever you need help. Help is often invaluable when you’re new in the lab. They do it so willingly too, despite being so consumingly busy with their own work. However, conflicts do happen when a few people get annoyed with my supervisor for asking them to work on my project and show their frustration at me although I’m not in the position to make decisions. Sometimes I’ve shed tears over it in front of Rahul, but I pick myself back up eventually. :)
Ok, I’ve written a little too much now so it’s time to stop here. New update, in tomorrow’s journal club, Rahul’ll be presenting. Good luck Rahuligan! :D
Public Peril
An interesting conversation occurred in the Arts Centre lift today.
Girl 1: I wish this lift could go faster!
Girl 2: Remember in Physics, we talked about jumping in the lifts to actually make the deceleration faster?
Girl 1: Oh yeah... I REALLY want to try that one day.
Guy: You mean jump in a lift going down?
Girl 1: No. Jump in a lift without pressing the button. And see if it will start going down.
Guy: ... are you sure you want to do that?
Hong's note to self: in future do not get into lifts with these people.
-So ends my waiting-for-FACS-machine entry on the Wednesday evening-
Girl 1: I wish this lift could go faster!
Girl 2: Remember in Physics, we talked about jumping in the lifts to actually make the deceleration faster?
Girl 1: Oh yeah... I REALLY want to try that one day.
Guy: You mean jump in a lift going down?
Girl 1: No. Jump in a lift without pressing the button. And see if it will start going down.
Guy: ... are you sure you want to do that?
Hong's note to self: in future do not get into lifts with these people.
-So ends my waiting-for-FACS-machine entry on the Wednesday evening-
Tuesday, September 15, 2009
Kentish photos
I thought I might as well link the photos here, since the blog has had a paucity of content added recently. Therefore, prepare for a long post. Whole set is here.
Pumpkins in my cousin's garden
A flower... can someone identify?
A sunflower lit from behind. It was about 4m tall! Actually, I saw a much larger sunflower two weeks ago, but blog entry and photos from that still to come.
Beach huts down at Tankerton
Another bee... I'm going to miss them when they go away for the winter. I do wish I had a macro lens, though.
The beach... note all the breakwaters.
Beach huts again. Weird to have them sitting on grass.
Proof that sand can be found... with difficulty.
But this is how most of the beach looks.
A gull looking out into the harbour, probably waiting for someone to clean the old fish out of their boat.
Reminds me of home, really...
I love the mottling on these pebbles, and the worn shell in amongst them.
So there are a few photos to bore/interest you. There are more in the full set, so you're welcome to view the rest if you're really bored at work. :)
Monday, September 7, 2009
Tuesday, September 1, 2009
Need 48-hour days...
Sometimes the trick really is finding that silver/golden/chrome/pink/purple/blue/creamy/white/transparent lining of that cloud. Surely it must be somewhere in my head. *sniff around*
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