Look mum, real-life devotion material!

The most preciously painful lessons in life make for better bible study than the most lively of books. So the silver linings continue to shine, and the world is never better, only you in it, living, moving, having being just as we were called. Eventually, something changes. God's nearness never fails to bring immense comfort.

-The incurable optimist speaks. Now, a joy has overtaken her so hard to quench that even the cynic passing through has to die, again, again. She never saw it coming, thinking the poison cup quaffed was a deadly one. But John 3:29-30. Her joy is made complete in her rest and smallness.

so numb.
so raw.

A cynic's glass of fresh.

It's been a while since I've reverted back to any sort of comfortable grouching (owing to the fact that I've been way too happy). I realise that the most resillient of emotions bear better under the rushing undercurrents of life's expectancies- and do I have a float or not? Happiness, by the way, isn't one of them. (My rationale is that it's because one is too close to slipping into the oblivion of 'it will always be this way') I've come so close to bimbotism today I've scared myself looking in the mirror.

For a couple of hours, I hung- the threshold between stoic sanity and inane IMH-childish behaviour. I chose neither in the end- I ran. After my cowardice at precisely 8.46 am, tickticktock, I continued to retrace the corner turns of my mind, in dire refusal to reproportion reality in case I got kicked out of it in the process of 'fairness'. I have a headache and no lunch. I feel, to be quite accurately honest, like a can of Dr. Pepper in the bin, with little aluminium bits sticking out everywhere and wishing I didn't smell so bad. (Why Dr. Pepper, you ask? I just relish the idea of being a cool sounding drink that tastes bad).

Then the sounding of war cries. Questions are always inconvenient at times like this- being wonderwoman becomes a hazard when her own powers are pitted against her. If I had ever wondered (in a snot-woggling self righteous manner) how people could bring themselves to steal/sell themselves/kill/hurt for money, I can see why now. For a fleeting moment, I wondered if I could have shirked responsibility the way the person behind me did. I make no pretence as to my dwindling integrity- I've cashed in $900 for good values and well worth the while, but no one said I had to like it.

Sure, things happen in life that catch you unawares of your absurdities and insensibilities, but to be honest, this is one of the first times I've been caught out. Everyone says it's a lesson to learn; I want to bite a door handle because no one knows that better than I at this point. On the cynical, sadistic bright side, tomorrow will be someone else's turn to learn some other lesson. In order to retain a shred of niceness, I hope it won't be as rib-nudgingly painful as mine.

Every now and then you realise how much on the edge of a cliff you are and you turn to God, not knowing whether to give thanks or to cry. Who knows how long I'll continue to teether on this ever curving tightrope? Hopefully another 70-80 years. I asked for balance last year and I got it. This year, I think I'll ask for desire. Because if i had a choice, I would spin the world backwards so I could stagnate in my current position and get my thoughts together without the world moving so damn fast. Then I would blatantly take advantage of the centrifugal force and go to sleep for about.. ohh.. 2 years?

Why do I feel like I'm missing something? Some secret powder, ray X, crystal type thing that everyone has that makes them stay calm at all times and swallow everything that comes their way. Is chocolate some cheap imitation I've been conned to buy? Well, COCOA IS A BEAN and beans are vegetables. So there, you chemical inhaling, powder burning people.

I stumbled upon one of cuzzy's friend's blogs. Her cynicism is worth applauding- my own reviving after about 2 months of suffocation. Cuzzy and her friends are all geniuses, by the way. A cynic is a pessimist with a sense of humour, and a closet optimist. One cannot be openly flower-power positive. In case the inevitable happens and the bump to reality isn't cushioned with "i knew it", and "I told you so." And So I'm Back, From Outer Space!

"life is mostly froth and bubble but two things stand on their own- kindness in another's trouble and courage in your own."- I pretend to have enough of one, and obviously don't have the other.

I'm a little more resigned to things now. I will just push past it and here is where my name comes in handy- twisted by the most lyrical of cynics: Que Sera Sera.

"I had two heart attacks, an abortion, did crack... while I was pregnant. Other than that, I'm fine."- Amelie Poulain. Took the words right out of my mouth, honey. No, it's not half as bad as I make it out to be (only because it happened to me not you). And I'm still drug-free and sex-free (I make it sound like a crime). Hmm. I used to be different. Nicer. Phoey.

What I wouldst for a little solace, which has turned to new found terror.

Oh, the many things to be thankful for.

RUTH and ESTHER

I realised the similarities between these two bible women are very comforting. And their womanhood is really gorgeous. I always imagined Ruth as dark-haired with liquid eyes and Esther as a flaxen haired, fiery eyed woman. But it was always their personalities that put these physical qualities into mind, so it's an imagination of inside out. If I looked like on the outside what I am inside.. I think I would look like a grumpy old woman? Haha. Trying to change that, ok? But that aside, my assignment is to find favor with the king. All else is dealt with by the king, so I should know what I must do!

I admit that I am stressed. I am not unhappy, or upset, or debilitated, or despairing, or any of those "I cannot take it" things. But it's true that I am stressed. I've come to accept it as a fact of 4th year. Maybe when i find a comfortable routine, i will derive an ingenious way of combating this stress so that I feel as competent on the inside as I pretend to look on the outside. Then I will market it to everybody and sit back like the fraud most pop psychologists are. We need God, not self help. Our girls are wonderful pretenders. "Oh yes, I'll do that, no problem" we say, "OMG more work than I can handle I should cancel dinner" we think. We are too proud of our efficiency to admit our shortcomings. Or is that really just me? Is everyone really that awesomely efficient?

I took the train for the first time last Friday to meet Dennis in the city. It was really very exciting for me, although I felt so goondu because I kept trying to look for the button to ring when I wanted to get off, forgetting that trains stop at every stop. It's a little bit like Singapore MRTs and I was dosed with more nostalgia than I expected. With the setting sun outside the left window and a dark train of cars rushing through on the right, the happy melancholy (dumbest truest oxymoron ever) set in, and I was contented, but very homesick.

This week is preparation. I must finish another honours draft and have it in by next week. I also start at Therapy Focus next week and the pressure is on to perform well and get noticed etc. Ah heck, even if I don't get noticed, it's not the end of the world. Just job wise only mah. Don't do anything stupid, like badmouth your supervisors. When having tea in the tea room, HAVE TEA. It makes you calmer and you cannot talk and swallow at the same time. This means you are safe from getting yourself blackmarked even before you can market yourself. Should I sell myself as a fish or a vegetable? Vegetable sounds like I am lazy right? Ok I shall be a trout.

Boy Buttons

Why has this NOT come to my attention sooner?
Why has NO ONE told me about this?
Who KNEW and DIDN'T inform me?
Well, now that I DO know, I will inform the rest.
I don't want to be labeled inconsiderate by myself, you know.

Boys have Buttons.
ON and OFF buttons.
You can turn their brains ON and OFF!
SO COOL RIGHT????????

Psalm 23

This is George.
He is evidence that pigs can fly.
In non-scientific lingo, this means that
God can do the impossible!
See his wings?
The sheep on the ground envy him.
But don't worry.
They have green pastures and still waters.
(Psalm 23, God)
George is babe's cousin.
That's why he is so adventurous.
George has a cool nose.
He can fly straight (*putputput*)
And he can fly upwards (*gniaaaaaooooo*)
George has a big smile.
He's a very very cheerful pig.
George's smile is infectious.
How would I know, you say?
I'm not working with infection control?
Don't think I don't know these things ok!!!
It's because I've already been infected.
George looks like a nice, sincere pig.
I can already tell we're going to be great friends.

Thank you Bea. You make my day. (:

References
God. (N.D.). Psalm 23. Bible. Published by various sources.

Rejoice!

So the leaflets I took from the Niche when I went for the non-existant aphasia group were useful in the end. That's the end of 1 of 5 chapters of placements this year and I'm glad to have it closed so well. The frightening 4 hour session in uni turned out to be the best time I've ever had! I'm more motivated now that I know the demands are "reasonable". Haha. Although not everything in 4th year is rational or fair, I feel much better knowing I will make it through now.

I'm actually chipper! The first time I've been chipper in 1.5 weeks. I went home and had the drive to make up a 4th year file and prepare myself for my placements and assignments.

Margo's advice was not to live away from home, and if you had a boyfriend, all the better to test your clinical things on him. Oh fun!

I'm just happier. The work just got 10 times worse, and I'm suddenly happier. Maybe it's because I can see the light at the end of this tunnel and I know God will make sure it is skylight and not train headlights.

Thank You Daddy!~

I slept all day
awoke with distaste
and I railed,and I raved

That the difference between
the sprout and the bean
is a golden ring,it is a twisted string.
And you can ask the counsellor;
you can ask the king;
and they'll say the same thing;
and it's a funny thing:

Should we go outside?
Should we go outside?
Should we break some bread?
Are y'interested?

And as I said,
I slept as though dead
dreaming seamless dreams of lead.

When you go away,
I am big-boned and fey
in the dust of the day,
in the dirt of the day.

and Danger! Danger! Drawing near them was a white coat,
and Danger! Danger! drawing near them was a broad boat,
And the water! water! running clear beneath a white throat,
and the hollow chatter of the talking of the Tadpoles,
who know th'outside!

Should we go outside?
Should we break some bread?
Are y'interested?

This song by Joanna Newsom was played for the Ad on Melbourne Tourism and it was extremely well done. A bold move, also, I might say, since the song has little to do with tourism. Can you guess what it's about? When you figure it out, it's pretty clear, and then Ms. Newsom's cleverness becomes quite endearing, although very sad.

So my plan is not workable.

My biggest craving is not available.
I want a kohl night on the town in heels with Rachel.
I have no heels and I have no Rachel.
I have a poor substitute.
I have alcohol.

New Plan

Having finished the first day of AAC lectures, and also become increasingly disconsolate about the state of academic affairs regarding 25 unanswered emails, looming workloads, new placements, draft proposals and a million pre-requisites and pre-pre-requisites threatening to prevent graduation like ravenous wolves, I have made mock attempt to throw in the towel and kick the bucket, going on the principle of 'if you imagine it up, you'll fall off the cliff of the imaginary into the gushing ravine of reality and feel better afterward. Much Afterward.'

So here is my brand new shiny polished neatly cartographed plan.

1. Lose 10 kg by August
2. Move to Victoria and discover it's secret.
3. Join the secret fashion show.
4. With the money earned from that, start a small business in pharmaceuticals and affordable lingerie (separately, of course).
5. Buy a hammock.
6. Sleep.

Argh, reality is quite disgusting, but I guess it's only for a year, right? Anyone else with schoolblues?

BATA

Back to school.
So boring, but to some point, uni fulfills a pointless void I have in my geeky heart. I'm just afraid that this year will be scary and difficult. People's faces are already drained and it's only our first day in. Maybe because everyone else is still partying. Margo, on the other hand, is pretty chipper. Maybe because she had a holiday, maybe because the glee that comes from allocating 30 girls to 150 placements is truly delightful to the point of madness.

I saw JL today, and I got such a shock because she was one of the more vocal 4th years. I know of at least 3 or 4 who are now in my year and it's so freaky to have them with us because I cannot bear the thought of being one of them. We all tell each other we won't be, but after Scotland I'll believe anything, especially because Gill's colleague screwed up her OT abroad. I tell you, these overseas things are SO not QC-ed.

Bored out of my brain, ciao.

Outlook Expressed.

Mark 5:36 Ignoring what they said, Jesus told the synagogue ruler, "Don't be afraid; just believe."

The cure for simple worry is unadulterated childlike faith.

and so it be, my world I hand to you,
watching your huge hands, how they move the hearts of paupers and kings alike, those chiselled, nail-scarred hands that I do love, I do.

Father, be it unto me according to your word.
I don't know how
But you do.
Your work is perfect.

I WANT MOCHI!
I've been deprived first of marshmallows that got sent to UK, then of mochi! ALL BY THE SAME PERSON WHO WENT TO BUY WHITE SHOES TODAY! some more offer to buy Jon shoes never offer me. Super 'not enough friend' can? CAN? Esther will KF. Esther chillipadi.

I am eating Green Tea ice cream in an effort to unwind and I've given myself a terrible french manicure because I subconsciously know I am going to ruin it tomorrow at work anyway. You can call me Lillian taitai now because I have a new bag from Jen and I am going to take taitai lessons from Geraldine so i can carry it properly! Hehehee.

Ok lah. Work as usual tomorrow. I really need to clean the car, my room, and also find out my bank access code.

Oh, I've finally found the words to express myself.
Unfortunately, they're all censored.

Valentine

Tragic life long affairs are appealing on soap operas.
Perhaps there is more truth in either than one initially suspects.
And To remember the word I gave so long ago
that gives me hope, not the giver?
wow me, that is the Power of my God and King.
And today, He is also the Lover of my soul.

I stand aloof and make no mention of my soul's livid eye.
My pride masquerade excuses this small cryptic post
That lets me boast about nothing, nothing, nothing at all.
Because I am ashamed to be sat on
When it is too cruel to do the murdering myself.

Gloat, all you people.
Even if you love me and don't want to gloat.
Gloat.
And like it.

The voice of unreason

Has rather a loud snazz to it.

When fear strikes, to stand in the face of it.
Say boo to a goose, you know?
Selfish/selfless, mindful/mindless?
thoughts that don't think in chains,
thoughts that break like beads.
Where has my mind-efficiency gone?

It's 9 in the afternoon, your eyes are the size of the moon.

I used to be conservative.
But I think life wants me to live it
on the edge.
Conservative is a measure to be safe.
It's a reason to be afraid.
I may say I am still apprehensive.
About 2008.
But it's not time to be conservative anymore.
I walk on air now.

Jing Dan

Steamed Egg.

My mother wants me to cook steamed egg.
Or else, she says, what to cook for my husband?
If you don't know steamed egg then how?
My mother also wants me to communicate properly.
If you don't talk properly, how to talk to your husband?
Next time how, you tell me, girl?
And so the wife training begins.
wifery (not mid-wifery, that's mid-semester) 101.
cooking 124, cleaning 122, communications 145.
c, c, c. see, see, see.
sea sea sea with a sailor and a port and some port.
Preferably Queen Adelaide.

I've never watched Bridget Jones' Diary till now.
Sometimes, I realise,
She reaches the parallel of stabbing the average woman
With a crooked steak knife.
I have to say,
I understand.

Waking up on muggy afternoons feeling sticky is really yucky. Blast you, global warming!

Wake me up

I had another strange dream yesterday night and I don't think I slept very well but I cannot for the life of me remember what it was! These days, I don't know why but I simply am unable to sleep in, or to get 'enough sleep' by sleeping in later. I just wake up by this certain time and maybe I can snooze for a bit but I end up feeling restless.

But i woke quite dazed. Mum came in the room twice and asked for sermon notes and other things, and said the pest control man was around, so when I sat up and turned on the music, I was only slightly disturbed by the bald, bespectacled man who walked by. I had heard his noise earlier anyway.

The dream made me feel like I had gotten sucked into some sort of non reality. I think I'm going to wash up to wake up properly and maybe I'll feel better. But the things said yesterday are gone now. Maybe they manifested in the disturbance of dreams, but I wish they wouldn't linger in this sleepyness. Wake up, sara. Wake up.

The envy of all women.
The nature of space.
The nuttified social norm.
The glorified glitter.
The green of covetousness.

I eat I sleep
I breathe I beat
I live I lie
I love I cry

Talk about multi faceted.
wow me.
Muse me.
Amuse me.