cheshire

(no subject)

...Anybody got an AO3 invite sitting around that they wouldn't mind tossing me way? I'm cool with the queue too, but I figure I could just ask.
cheshire

(no subject)

Wow, it's been a while. I don't know, I just...didn't feel like there was anything worth putting in this journal for the longest time. Even if there was interesting stuff, it was all right just sitting in my head. 'Course part of that was the insanity of MED SCHOOL EXAMS, but still.

Have seen babies being born, this rotation. I do like it, despite not having any of the motherly hormone instinct things. Secretly a guy, right. Still, there is something uniquely fascinating about listening to a baby's first yell. It genuinely is some sort of magical, though make no mistake, there's blood and shit and mucus (oh so much of it) and amniotic fluid everyfreakingwhere and sweat and it's not the greatest smell in the world. I'm just glad I read all that James Herriot as a kid; lambings and calvings preparing one for human birthings, ye ken. At least the faeces didn't take me by surprise. We're all animals at the end of the day. But--magic, for all the gore. I like that sort of magic. When it's surrounded by crap, you know anything that shines through has to be real.

The other thing--the real big thing I wanted to post about--was going to New York, and like the derpiest of derpy cliches falling bang splat in love. I wanted desperately to pen this down whilst I was there, but no puter on vacation, and then life, etc, madness, whatever. This is what I wanted to get out of my system:

1) I wanna get this out of the way first because it deserves pride of place: real friends are people with whom you can strike up a conversation after years of radio silence, and promptly fall back with into old patterns so fast, without a hint of awkwardness, it's like you never left. That was a poorly-constructed sentence but I cannot grammar right now. This is less of a new thing and more of a THANK GOD, IT'S STILL TRUE thing. Damn and blast, I've missed you guys.

2) All Cities are The City. All Subways are The Subway. After having stayed in this many cities--SG, Taipei, HK, Melbourne--and having visited lots of others (too many to enumerate, I daresay) I think I have a feel for that indefinable quality of cityness that makes cities what they are. There's just this je ne sais quoi to'em. I always knew I was a city brat--though there was that period of time where I wanted to live in bugfuck nowhere, and I still like real bugfuck nowhere places (which is to say, a genuine wilderness as compared to a mere country town)--and The City is becoming synonymous with Home, for me. Which maybe explains why NYC felt so familiar, from my first step out the door. We landed in the afternoon, and not wanting to waste daylight I hauled Dad out of the hotel and down from Grand Central to Times Square (look, my logic was "see Times Square on day one, get it over and done with, spend rest of trip in museums", perfect planning right) and from the very beginning the streets felt familiar. The subway felt familiar--confusing, god only knows what the hell runs on what track at what time, but familiar nonetheless.

3) New York City is a City among Cities. NYC...had more of that cityness than any other city I've known. I don't know what it is. I was trying to compare with other cities I know; HK is loud and small and crowded, SG is middling loud and also small and crowded but not to the scale HK is, Melb is big but quiet, as cities go. NYC is loud and big and still bloody crowded and for the first time ever I knew what it meant to be able to lose yourself in the anonymity of a city. It takes some doing to make a city kid feel that way, I'll say. So many people in this space, I think that density is what made it feel like that. It was gorgeous. I guess this ties in to NYC feeling familiar; if I know The City, and NYC exemplifies The City, then, well, it makes sense that in some damn strange mystic way NYC was known to me.

4) The City Must Be Learnt On Foot. Or by public transport, but preferably you gotta stomp her streets. Fuck tour buses, you'll never get anything out of that. Cabs are fair enough especially if you're going far, but really you want to take PT if you wanna learn a city. Bus, train, tram, whatever. The City talks to you if you bother to put your skin to her veins. Walk the lifeblood of The City. Listen to the hum of her heartbeat, made of cars and talking and construction and a thousand thousand footfalls. I walked all over Manhattan--yes I do know that NYC consists of more than just her smallest island, but I was somewhat pressed for time (one week, okay) and I don't pretend to have learnt the boroughs--walked until my feet were sore, every day. Rambled across Central Park and the Museum Mile and most of frikkin' Midtown and much of the southside, NoHo and SoHo and Nolita and Little Italy and Chinatown (picked up this snazzy straw hat in Chinatown, even), and yes I know I've still barely scraped the surface. That drives me crazy, actually, because NYC already talked to me so much in that short trip, and I just--I want to learn her secrets, you know? Get my mouth on all her soft places and glut my eyes on her charms. Listen to all the rest of what she wants to tell me.

She said, "I own a bit of the rest of the world." There was the United Nations (for whatever that's worth), and the people of every stripe all over the goddamn place. With one thing and another I find that I'm comfortable when I don't understand all the language I overhear in coffeeshops, and NYC certainly does that. They're not the languages that I'm used to not-understanding--not much Spanish in Melbourne--but it's the same feeling. And there were the HQs of however many MNCs--Citigroup among them, like I could forget that, and you gotta admit, however grudgingly, that things happen in this city that affect the rest of the globe.

She said, "Look at my bones, see how long I've stood." I hadn't even had a sense of her history before this, but then I went to the exhibit at the NYPL and it kind of smacked me in the face. And the architecture, hah, all the marble arches, NYC evidently thinks it's Rome. You just look at the Museum of Natural History; that's a triumphal arch, right there, it cracked me up when I saw it. But arches aside the architecture is a mix of old and new, and I have a massive soft spot for cities that do that.

She said, "I live. I change. You will never walk the same street twice." I remember posting here, some time ago, about not knowing if I could root in one place. I've considered Melbourne--too quiet. I've considered SG--too fucking SMALL, the place and the people and the utter banal boring homogeneity--okay, I have issues with my home country, skip that for now. I like Transience and new things and exploring and strange random encounters. And I never thought one city could provide enough of that--until now. Something about NYC, that mad density of people, or its insomniac nature, the unending vast variety it provides, I think that could scratch my itch. My endless roving wanderlust satisfied by this one place.

She said, "I think I could be yours."

In love, just a little bit. Or at least a gigantic infatuation. Goddamnit.

Without a doubt some of this is tourist-vision, at least. But I have a decent grasp on my eyes and I know when I'm kidding myself; this doesn't feel like that. Perhaps I don't know everything, haven't experienced the bitter winters and the grey slush, or the "fuck off" local temperament (actually, that appeals, in a funny kind of way), or just other things I can't guess at. I'm willing to say that those might well change my mind. But right now...right now this city felt like everything I want from a lodging-place. Kind of blows my mind.

5) Melbourne, you seriously fucking suck sometimes. New York's two-hour ride fare is $2.50. Yours is $3.28. You are more expensive to PT in than NEW YORK CITY. JFC. Fucking hell.
cheshire

(no subject)

The funny part of this post:

I realized that "motherfucker" has the same cadence as "Mississippi"--meaning that my new method of counting seconds is "one-motherfucker, two-motherfucker" etc.

The less funny part of this post:

Dear brain, it is time once again to have that conversation about what constitutes an acceptable dream and what does not.

Things that make for acceptable dreams: Trek, Rome, benthic stuff like squid, other things related to interstellar travel, winning, being awesome at medicine, being awesome at killing shit, being a cyborg, being a goddamn paladin, you get the gist

Things that do not make for acceptable dreams: Collapse ) I mean, what, brain? Seriously what? Why would you even do that? Why would you not autowipe that shit as I wake up? I forget my music dreams and this is what I'm left with? hhhnnnrrrrrrrrrrrrrggghhhhh
cheshire

(no subject)

Mom came and visited for the weekend, and then left, leaving me in something of a funk as always; not to mention, leaving me very short on sleep, because I have trouble sleeping when AAA PARENTAL ABANDONMENT TERRORS AAAAAA (why I am secretly a two-year-old, I don't know); I've caught something grotty probably from a colleague, leaving me with nasal conchae filled with what feels like cement; and to top it off I'm now on a surgical block that begins with rounds at 0730h every freaking day, except Friday where it's 0700h unit meeting. It don't rain but it pours.


On a completely unrelated note, I am being a TOTAL CREEPING GOOGLESTALKER. But for a good reason. I think. Concern for other people is a good reason, right? Feel free to discuss below. The somewhat-less-retarded bits of me are also breaking the very-retarded-impulsive-whimsical-moron bit's hands again in an effort at restraint; the first time that happened it was for reasons of emu, but now I think it's rather rapidly and hilariously turning into a standard method of impulse control, even for small retarded things like aforementioned stalking. Oops. Strange patterns I set in my head.
  • Current Mood
    amused amused
cheshire

AVE TRIUMPHATOR

So he passed over, and all the trumpets sounded for him on the other side.

Realized something in the shower (where all my best thinking gets done) that made my hair stand on end, or would've anyway if the water hadn't been quite hot. It hit me like a cosh across the back of the head. PROBLEM SOLVED! SYSTEMS CLEAR!

Also, did a much less fail long case today. Fuck yeah getting better at med school...very very slowly. *snrk*
  • Current Mood
    exsultate, jubilate
cheshire

(no subject)

So...Absolute Lithops Effect is going to be for these two semesters the rest of my life the foreseeable future what This Year was for 12th grade. Right. Good to know.

Wall, crucible, forge.
  • Current Mood
    sore-eyed
cheshire

(no subject)

Awsum things from yesterday:

1) IV cannulation SUCCESS FIRST TRY! Pt had huge veins, went smooth as butter. Huzzah huzzah.
2) Admitted a patient. MY NOTES ARE NOW IN THEIR FILE TO BE PRESERVED FOR ALL TIME. Kind of freaked, kind of stoked.

And then today I got to present that pt at rounds in front of the consultant because the team I'm with is kind of awesome and amazing and totally cool about the twitchy wigged-out medical student doing shit. Seriously. So cool. So terrifying. But it seems to have gone awright.


Last night I had two dreams that were "oh dear god what", albeit in two very different ways. First I dreamt about someone quizzing me on the difference between metoprolol and either sotalol or propanolol, I can't remember which. I GUESS THIS MEANS I'M LIVING AND BREATHING MEDICINE THE WAY I SHOULD, EH. Then I had one of my classic fucked-up dreams.

It was like a scene out of a police procedural show (*headtilt* <-- now I wonder if anyone will get that reference) in that there were cops, and somehow I was with the cops--I don't know, maybe part of the emergency medical team?--and we were all outside this guy's flat because he was threatening to hurt this kid. So shit goes down inside, we bust into the flat, and...nobody's there. The flat is very nice, two floors, wooden floor and banisters, full of light and modern decor, very to my tastes. Everybody is kind of ???bzuh? and cops go secure all the rooms and confirm that it's empty. Now that there's no threat we're all wondering where the guy went, and where the kid is, and they're sending out bulletins for the dude and speculating on where he might have taken the kid...

And then someone notices that the oven's on.

There is a universal moment of "oh, fuck no". Someone opens the oven door and pulls out the tray, on which a number of dishes rest.

Taters with gravy; vegetables that I think were carrots and something; and a toddler's arm and half a head, lightly browned.



I think that lifetime of horror movies is starting to have an effect.
cheshire

(no subject)

This is the week for my family to get accidents, I think. First Dad burnt his hand on the steam nozzle whilst steaming pants for Mom. Then Mom slipped in the bathroom, dislocated her finger (we think), and popped it back in again (yeah, ikr, that's my Mom); no impact fracture, but bruising/tendon damage etc. Then I did not treat my weights with enough respect, caught my finger on the edge of the rack when reracking (11 kg ow ;_;), and chunked some skin off the proximal interphalangeal of my left index finger. Aren't we hilarious?
  • Current Mood
    amused amused