Write Drunk, Edit Sober

This post is for all the girls who keep telling themselves they can't and will never find the right guy for themselves even if he's right there in front of them. As much as I'd like to say you're wrong? You just might be right. Myself included. SCENARIO NUMBER 1; I checked myself in the mirror one last time before heading out the front door. My hair was in place. My clothes weren't crinkled. I was actually having a 'pretty day'. Hashtag HappyChild. Grabbed my car keys off the table, swung my backpack over my shoulder, put on my shoes and locked the door behind me. Bounded down the stairs with my ponytail swishing to the left and to the right.  Heart starts to thump.  Faster. Faster.  Fasterfasterfaster.  FASTERFASTERFASTERFASTER.  Is he there? Is he waiting? What's he wearing today?  A nd just as I reached the ground floor preparing to say something intelligent, I find he's not there after all.  With slumped shoulders I he

I need to rant a little. Maybe a lot. I'm not sure. But either way. I need to let it out. I CAN'T TAKE THIS ANYMORE. Med school is a nightmare. N.I.G.H.T.M.A.R.E.  7 hours of classes back to bloody back, 5 days a week. Histology assignments to complete, Physiology assignments to finish, Biochem tests to study for every damn week without fail. Communication Skills and Community Medicine slides to go through, Moral studies to remember. OH MY GOODNESS. I JUST CAN NOT . I CANNOT. Excuse me for being anything but sanguine here, I'm usually hope personified but today...I don't know I suppose you could say my spirits aren't exactly lifted. I knew it was going to be hard but I didn't expect it to be this hard. I knew I'd have a lot to do but I didn't think it would amount to this much. I knew I'd be losing sleep but I didn't think I'd go days on end without any sleep at all.  It's only the second semester of our fi

We decided to check out KSL City Mall yesterday evening. I'd seen the signboard many, many times but I didn't know where the place was exactly. I figured it wouldn't be that hard to find it. So we set off. At five. Only to reach at almost seven. Instead of taking a left at the first traffic light, I went straight all the way. Ended up reaching Sentosa Mall. Called a friend and asked for directions. Took one long ass detour. Passed the bus station in town centre, passed so many other places and only when we had gone past Thistle, did I get my bearings right again.  Went back to the same traffic light where the signboard was, took the turn, then stopped at a car wash and asked this one guy (who so happened to be a Bangladeshi) how to get there. And we got there. After nearly two whole hours.    But it was worth it, I think.  So many little shops in KSL selling food and trinkets and what-nots. Pretty interesting if you take the time to walk aroun

...one of the many things I've acquired over the many years through my love affair with books. I just put down Tracy Anne Warren's 'His Favourite Mistress'. And I scrunched up my nose and literally went "Awww" after reading the finals lines of the book. A typical romance novel, set during and after World War II, although the war in itself was not described. It starts off with the seventeen-year-old heroine, Gabrielle, going after a man in vengeance for killing her father.  Or so she thought.  In actual fact, this man she goes after, Rafe, was attacked by her father and whatever happened was the exact opposite of what she was told. So she sneaks up on him in his study one night dressed as a man and points a gun at him and says his time has come only to realize that the person she's about to shoot isn't Rafe. It's Wyvern. His wit, charm and good looks catch her off guard and he manages to get a hold of her gun, disarming her just as

It's been a rather good week to say the least. Assignments and tests are piling up slowly but surely. Went shopping today straight after class. Was looking for a comfortable pair of black flats. The lace one I had previously had torn at the sides (thanks to my gigantically broad feet) and the one pair I recently brought from home seemed smaller than when I'd last used them. Walked around for easily an hour looking for a pair that would catch my eye. Finally found one in Vincci. Also lace (don't ask me why I like lace I just do). Tried on their biggest size and it fit! Went to Mango and looked around for a pair of beige slacks. Found a pair of cargo pants. Minus the pockets. Those big, baggy, comfy pants. Grabbed a U.S. size 6, since all my other pants from there are that size, only to come back and realize that it was way too big. TOO BIG I SAY . I should have settled for the dress I saw but no. I wanted the pants. Gah. Removed the button and adjusted

Went for my very first surgery on Wednesday. Not counting the one I went for at the dentist to remove an ingrown tooth, that is. I've had this small little lump on my left calf for nearly seven years and it was uncomfortable and pretty painful. Got it checked some years back but the doctor said it was nothing to worry about. On Tuesday I went to a physician and got it checked again. He said it would be best to get it removed and he immediately referred me to the consultant general surgeon. Who so happened to be one of my former college mate's father. I was really excited for some reason. So I went to the next doctor, he fiddled around with the little thing and told me it was some sort of nodule. I was scheduled for a minor operation the very next afternoon at one o'clock. Reached the clinic by about twelve thirty, signed some forms et cetera and I was taken into the operation theatre. I was way beyond excited by this point. As soon as I went through the swi