I fail to knock on wood and the universe dicks me around

I am from good old Irish and Croatian families, so I don't know why I didn't knock on wood when I said to myself that my car didn't have any major problems, and wouldn't end up costing me much. I should've known better. Stupid, stupid, stupid. Stupid.

My car broke down not 15 minutes later. I changed lanes, pressed the accelerator pedal and the emissions light came on. Of course, I didn't know it was the emissions light, so I kept driving - flicking the car manual while driving (we're not allowed to talk on our mobile phones, but this is apparently legal). It said that I didn't have to stop driving since it wasn't flashing. I figured I'd take it to the mechanics in the morning. No sooner did I dare to make that plan, than the freaking car started shuddering. Like the whole thing. I thought it might be trying to stall, or something, so I put it into Neutral but it kept shuddering. I stopped at the lights and tried revving it, since my transmission is weird and slow, but nothing. It sounded like it was insulted that I would try to fix it. I started freaking out and cursing my earlier glibness with planning a year of no big car repairs. Stupid self.

I pulled over into the nearby shopping centre, and parked it in the middle of two parks at the very edge. I know it is Christmas, but it was empty when I did this. I panicked, called my Dad - who pointed out that he was in Australia and thus unable to rescue me, and told me to call my Roadside Assist. Yeah, that would've been good to do first.

I called them. And I waited for over half an hour (20min tops, my ass!) for the guy to arrive. People parked around me, including a guy who decided that despite all the other freaking parks, he'd park in the park next to me - leaving like 20cm between our cars. My hood is up, I'm on the phone - don't you think that there might be a reason beyond I'm a girl and therefore bad at parking? Asswipe. So in that half an hour, how many people do you think asked if I was ok? NONE. They all stared though. How kind of them. I croatian waved back to them and they kept walking away. Asses. The Red Bull Promo girls were parked in their car opposite me. They gave a guy walking past a free can.....did they give me one? No. Stupid skanks.

Does this not scream, I am stuck here, give me a free drink or at least ask if I'm ok?

Roadside Assist guy arrives, asks me what the issue is, tells me that I'm wrong - it's not the emissions light, it's the engine. Oh wait, I'm right. Like I wouldn't have looked it up? WTF? I'm a GIRL, not incompetent! He has no clue what it is, so jumps into his truck and calls for a towie.

Yay! I think, "I'm getting the fuck out of here!" What the hell was I thinking? Obviously the universe was fucking with me, and the tow truck that was going to take another 40 minutes. Whatevers. I sat and waited, and then waited some more. I considered taking pictures of everyone who stared at my car but didn't stop, or posting their vehicle registration details somewhere, but my camera died. Cos the universe wasn't finished dicking with me yet.

I ended up waiting TWO HOURS. In that entire time, one person asked me if I was ok, or if I needed to call someone. ONE PERSON. The hell? What is wrong with people? I live in NZ, we're practically stuck in the 70's, neighbours look out of one another, I never lock my car at home. Once I left my lights on in the carpark across from work, and the attendant called the Hospital to find out my number since she could see I have the parking label in my window, to let me know. Our cops don't carry guns. Moko the Dolphin was headline National news for three days - he's on the news every year. We're supposed to care about each other, or at least be kind. Fuckers.

I sent out a lot of curses today. I hope their mobile phones die just as they are stranded somewhere. I hope their nails break and they scratch their eyes (yes, I did this earlier today). I hope they are underpoured and overcharged all New Years Eve. I hope that their BBQ's on the beach over summer are tainted with little bits of sand.

I guess it's time to admit that I've only stopped once, but that's because people normally break down on the motorway and I'm too busy yelling at the fuckheads in front of me to drive properly or get off the road, to see them and then I've already passed them. But if I saw someone in the parking lot who had their hood up? I'd ask if they are ok. I wouldn't stare. What if I needed to call someone and I didn't have my mobile? What if I had a baby that was overheating in the sun, and needed to take them inside for a few minutes? What the fuck, people?

My car has been towed to my mechanic. No one is sure what is wrong, and since I have to go to work tomorrow because of the stupid funding applications, I'm taking my aunt's car and seeing the mechanic in the morning. Grandad and Dad think it could be something very cheap (like $10) or it could be $100s. Tomorrow is Christmas Eve - there is a snowball chance that it will be done tomorrow, and since I'm going away on the Boxing Day Stat Holiday (Mon) for 8 days, I won't have my car back until next year. I guess this means that I'm not taking my bike for training while camping.

Adventures in Pre-Christmas Shopping

I always leave my Christmas shopping till the last minute. I like the atmosphere, I like the adrenaline of "oh, fuck - what the hell am I going to get Nana/Baby K/Neighbour Boy/random stranger on the street", I like the ability to go shopping late at night and the sun is still up. So this morning when I considered that I had plenty of time to go shopping, I decided to stay in bed (a good thing really since it decided that raining in December was appropriate) reading blogs. Specifically this blog, Amalah.com in all my creepy OCD tendency to read from the very beginning, like it is a book. I know. Creepy.

Anyway, since I'm lazy and it was raining, I stayed in bed while the others went out. And then got back home. Opps.

12.04pm Should really get going

12.05pm Maybe I'll read just one more month

12.11pm Ok, really should get going

12.24pm Why do I have no clean clothes?

12.26pm Decide that an outfit of 75% clean clothes is close enough. I do live out west afterall.

12.42pm Finish mocking my aunt for "camping menus and scheduled activities"

12.56pm Can't find hair brush, decide that messy hair in a ponytail is so in season, and refer to living out west again

1.12pm Have wallet and phone. Where did I put my keys?

1.14pm Start reading teh internets again. Wonder if the prominent NZ comedian is just as prominent as the prominent NZ entertainer ......i.e. not prominent at all and the name suppression didn't work - nor did he deserve it based on his future "record sales". Ass.

1.17pm Realise that this isn't helping me to find my keys. Resume search.

1.32pm Feeling a little frantic, have now lost keys and phone

1.37pm Recall that phone can be rung, dumbass, and proceed to ring it. Am very thankful that phone has an extra loud vibration, although I do occasionally wonder if my aunt thinks I am frequently using a vibrator late at night when someone txts me.

1.45om Realise that I have spent half a freaking hour looking for my keys and nothing. Shit. Have a look in my car - notice that it is really messy and resolve to clean it when back from shopping.

1.46pm Whine to my aunt that I can't find my keys. Ignore the mocking. Ask Baby K if she has seen them (No, and can't you see I'm busy sunbathing? And massaging the neighbour boy?) (Yes, she was wearing sunblock, and yes all of their clothes were on)

1.52pm Whining totally worked, Aunt is helping look.

1.53pm Keys are not in the fridge or freezer.

2.05pm Still no keys. Dammit.

2.15pm Aunt asks me when I last saw them. I think really really hard cos I already tried this game. I remember asking Kathryn to get yesterday's presents out of the boot, but already looked in that present pile and nothing.

2.17pm Hear triumphant yell from outside. My aunt hands me the keys from inside my boot, and damn they are hot from being in the hot car. I delight in their delicious burningness for my keys are here, in my hand and they burn with their realness.

2.18pm Realise that I will never live this down. Sigh.

That's right, a whole fucking hour it took me to find my keys. The hell? Last time I trust a 7 year old with my keys.

Numbers

Baby K: When did all the numbers come to our world? What's the last ever number?

Huh. Why not just break out the "What's sex?", at least I have a book for that.

Doing things right

The strangest thing happened on Saturday. Out shopping for a mother-of-the-bride outfit for our neighbour, we stopped for lunch and conversation took an unusual turn. The neighbour asked my aunt about her will and what she has determined for her girls (20 and 7). We're no stranger to macabre conversations in my family, but my aunt said that if something should happen to her (and it won't but we thought the same about my uncle, her husband.....and look what happened there), that she is going to place me as a potential guardian for Baby K. I had heard mumblings of this from the older cousin, but to have it confirmed over lunch and wine? Bizarre. I wouldn't be sole guardian, but should a decision about her future need to be made in such a situation, my other aunt and I would make the decision together.

Wow.

To tell the truth, I'm honoured that she would think that highly of me to potentially be responsible for raising her baby. She explained further that such responsibility is because I have such a strong bond with Baby K, I'm in her life and because I'm mature enough to be able to make decisions that are best for her. And it's true. Should the worse happen, I would give up everything in order to make sure that Baby K is ok. My aunt said that she didn't want this potential responsibility to change my plans, and I agreed it wouldn't (mainly because it won't, it can't happen), but if it did - I would. My plans (med school etc) could stand to be on hold. I wouldn't even give it a second thought before Baby K.

But even through this, I know that I won't have to. My aunt will hold on for dear life for Baby K. The honour? Leaves a lovely warm fuzzy feeling. I am seen as mature enough to be a guardian of someone else's kid - not for an hour or a week - but for a freaking lifetime.

I must be doing something right.

Being right isn't always best

A-Ha! The ennui has a cause.....I was right and I am anaemic! Not exactly something to be proud of since I'm at 2µg/L and normal is 20-160µg/L. Opps. Apparently giving blood really wasn't my smartest idea. I think I'm going to end up with the injections since I'm so low and I can't tolerate the supplements. Oh well, shit happens.

*Whistle*

I kind of failed greatly at the whole updating constantly thing. Not ideal really.

Christmas is kind of hurtling at us rather quickly. Strange really, I feel almost like I spent much of this year waiting only to find myself no further along that I was already. Le sigh. It is the ennui.

I started a new workplace, which we'll call....The Pantry, which started well initially. So much raw information at my hands, so many pretty graphs to make. However, I was asked (at v. short notice!) to do a report on waitlist data that was kept in freaking Word (!), which I diligently did.....only to discover that it was re-done by someone else. Every time I try to do something there, I am shot down, and made to feel like I am not as worthy..... all because I'm not clinical psych. I was warned, but didn't listen. However, I am going to take those three days a fortnight as for what they are - gifted study hours for the test of great evilness. I'm sort of vaguely attempting to be more onto it at the Zoo and the Dungeon, but I am not doing so well. I'm letting too much fall by the wayside and I can't motivate myself to do something about that.

Studying for that is going well, I feel more confident already. Quietly confident. I don't want to speak too much about it, but I"m holding it together. I still haven't told family, but I'm not hiding it at work. Just keeping holding on. Concepts are sticking better now.

I did another triathlon on the weekend - or rather, I did two thirds. I had to pull out after the bike leg because I couldn't breathe properly and I couldn't walk/run at all (stupid knee). Everytime I tried to take a breath, I would feel a sphere of burning pain behind my sternum and taste blood int he back of my throat. Not ideal really. It sort of resolved over the next 20 min while we rested, but I was wheezy and coughy all of Sunday, and same on Monday if I dared to walk up two flights of stairs at the Dungeon. Went to the Dr, apparently I had an asthma attack. I am fully medicated now - and since the GP Nurse has called me today, I'm guessing I'm also anaemic. Joy o Joy - maybe giving blood wasn't the greatest idea? I was just a little excited - first time in three years!

What's with the recent Road Safety ads saying that if you drive at 60km/h, you'll die and kill someone? That's the standard in Queensland; it's what I naturally sit at (speaking of which, I have my Full Licence now!!! I made it without a speeding ticket!).

Guy Fawkes came and went, I enjoyed the pretty, didn't enjoy the burning - a couple of sparklers singed my finger. Left a delightful blister and a burn mark on the deck from where I threw the damn sparkler.

I'm going to try the post every day ...or maybe every other day thing. I'll find some sort of inspiration.

Complaining

A complaint has been laid against The Dungeon and The Zoo, or more specifically a doctor at both places. This complaint relates to the suicide earlier in the year and alleges that there was a failure of care. Being privy to the case file (which is probably going to have me up on privacy issues despite having valid reasons), there was no failure in the care provided to her.

Le sigh.

I swear I'm not lazy

My ex...
...is no more

Maybe I should...
...clean my shoes for the gym

I love...
...fire

People would say that I'm...
...awesome

I don't understand...
...why people have to prove that they are right, and only they are right

When I wake up in the morning...
...I am confused and cold

Life is full of...
...change

My past is...
...something I want to move on from

Parties are...
...tiring

I wish...
...I could see the future

Tomorrow...
...I am in the dungeon (aka inpatient unit)

I have low tolerance...
...for bad drivers and ignorant/rude/stupid people

I am totally terrified of...
...animals and cotton wool

If I had a million dollars...
...I would take the day off

I am...
...waiting

My home is...
...comfy

My parents taught me...
... that no problem can't be attacked with knowledge and perseverance

Every day...
...is another chance to change a little

My life...
...is starting

If I found out my ex was gay...
...I would have some more self doubt

Boys are...
...silly and missing

Girls are...
...everywhere

I hate people who...
...are intolerant/ignorant/stupid

Last November...
...I finished my thesis

Hickory Dickory Dock...
...I wonder what happened to our Grandfather clock

The best invention ever...
...soap

I love it when...
... the sun shines

Sometimes I...
... do silly things

I work...
... with crazy people and the mentally unwell

GO...
...collect $200

God...
...doesn't care for people judging people in his name

Jesus...
... would be pissed at what people say he wants them to do

Buddha...
...is mindfulness

My dream last night...
...involved being mocked for having to get up

Today I ate...
...party BBQ left overs

Sometimes I swear...
...that I'm older than I am

As a child, I...
...thought I would have it all by now

The world could do with less...
...stress

On the state of being awesome

Baby K gave me blue star stamp for getting out of bed on Sunday. And then another for getting dressed. I suggested that she give herself a stamp for being awesome:

Baby K: I already did, see! But it's okay, you can have one for awesomeness too.

Hee. I love this kid. Plus she gives the best huggles.

New York Part I

I think that the best thing about being jet lagged is that the random times you need to get up don't actually hurt as much as they normally would. Thus, I was wide awake and wired when my trusty alarm went off - not because I had been asleep, but because I couldn't really get to sleep. American TV after 1am really dissolves, and they start their breakfast programmes at 4am (complete with traffic report! At 4am! Seriously!).

I checked out at 4.30am to BART (hee) to the airport. I wasn't the only person BARTing (again, hee. Anyone remember Bart from the Simpsons "Do the Bartman"? It's all I could think about the whole time!) at that ridiculous hour, my carriage had a couple of other airport-bound people and a random assortment of people who seemed to be both sober and stable.

I headed to the United check in (and go San Fran Airport for excellent signage!), and attempted to check myself in. There was an issue with signs for the lines, and apparently I didn't need to stand in this particular line, but whatever. The United check in's are all self check in, which is cool, except that the machine didn't read my passport. The rather scary check in lady (seriously, what is up with the amount of airspray/make up they wear?) 'helped' me and then made fun of my accent/country. Okay, so I was also silently mocking her, but at least I was silently doing it! I got my boarding pass, gave the check in lady a witheringly last look - followed by a quick smile as I realised that she was in control of the final destination of my bag.

I travelled through Heathrow-LA-Auckland just a couple of months just after the water bomb plot, so I had been through the 'take your shoes off ' phase of airport security - I just hadn't realised that it was still going on. I hadn't been asked to take my shoes off since that flight in all my flights between NZ and Aust, or even on my flight to San Fran. It was weird, and the staff are very brash. You can't even wear a jumper through on a domestic flight! I know that this is because those flights were domestics, but it was still quite a weird thing considering you can walk through NZ and Aust domestics without too much of a hassle. Somehow in the super xray, the top of my poster roll popped off and I wasn't allowed to go back to look for it, thus I ended up walking through the massive domestic airport with the tube on my arm, waving it like a robot. Oh yeah, I was all class and maturity!

Despite spending forever at San Fran airport, I don't have much memory of it, other than eating pancakes and wandering around. It was really weird that people were allowed to bring coffee onto the plane and when some tool spilt it down into the lap of the passenger below him, he seemed most surprised, and more than a little annoyed that the passenger was offended about it. I decided that the best use of my time was to sleep. I didn't have to worry about the flight attendants waking me up for food, for though it's a five hour flight - they don't feed you. At all. You can buy their overpriced food, but since everything had meat in it, I chose not to (America is not land of the vege-friendly). Oh, and while they offer a movie, it's forever away on a tiny screen and was something silly. Before I crashed out, we flew over some moutains, which oddly enough looked blue.

I must say, American domestic airlines are much more forward thinking by letting people use their own headphones instead of the potentially dodgy airplane ones. It was really trippy just before we landed because we were flying quite low over some suburbs and it all looked the same, only broken up by the occasional shop. Our suburbs aren't like that at all.
Even their farmland is different!

I was supposed to meet a friend at JFK Airport but the security people kind of shepherded us down to the baggage claim and we couldn't go back. This was less than useful for the meeting of people, given that I had planned to meet her at Starbucks. Le sigh. I stuck around for a little bit waiting to see if I could catch her coming in, but no dice. The wifi wouldn't connect for more than 10 secs on my phone, and I realised that I missed my laptop so much. Never again will I not take my precious baby with me. It would have saved me so much grief.

I decided that I would rather catch a shuttle than a train/subway/cab (expensive! stupid exchange rate!), so I dutifully lined up and was treated to some of that lovely New York attitude. Apparently known the name and the approximate location of your hotel is not enough information for shuttle people, despite being next to the World Trade Centre. Thankfully, being the huge geek that I am, I had saved a copy of my itinerary on my phone. I gave it to her, and she thanked me the New York way (rolling her eyes and muttering under her breath). Whatever. I waited the required half hour (in case I ran away?), then another before a middle aged man came running in and I was yelled at for not getting up quick enough. I was jammed in the back of the shuttle, squished between a middle aged lady who wouldn't stop talking on her cellphone and two Colombian tourists on their honeymoon. It was.....awkward.



The rest of the trip into town didn't exactly endear NYC to me. The roads that we took in were either motorways that were congested and had people honking their horns constantly, or were roads through what I presume were slums. The shuttle driver locked our doors. Oh joy. It took us over two hours to get into the city - and then we spent forever dropping everyone else but me and the German couple off. This is where the driver started going nuts when the German couple asked him how much further away they were to getting dropped off. Evidently, that is a question that is too much for the driver and he lost it - even having a go at me for wanting to be dropped off at my hotel which was preventing him from getting back to the airport. I just sat there, silently seething but wanting to punch him in the face. Hard. Stupid man. After getting lost a further two times, he dropped me off at my hotel - or rather, at the corner around from my hotel. Thankfully, there was a lovely doorman and aircon.

Checking in was a breeze, but I was so exhausted that I just passed out on the most glorious bed known to man. Seriously, after the hassle/uncomfortableness of the day, it was the best thing I have ever slept on. It was wondrous. I forced myself out to get something to eat, but by then it was dark, and I had seen a pizza place from my 19th floor hotel room. This pizza place was also where I discovered the wonders of Snapple. I love Snapple. It's a fruit drink that comes in flavours that aren't usual as a fruit drink - Pink Lemonade! And tea! And other awesome flavours. I didn't do much else, since it was dark and I had no idea where the subway's were, so I just chilled, took some pictures of the WTC and slept. Did I mention that the bed was wonderful?

Views from my room

Anyway, this is long enough for now. I promise I do more interesting stuff in the next installment.

Five randoms

1.) Why is TV 2 playing horror movies on a Sunday night? That's not very fair for those of us too lazy to go to bed on time. Oh ha, that's Robyn Malcolm doing a random America accent (she plays Cheryl on Outrageous Fortune).

2.) My knee really hurts this weekend. I don't understand why since it was fine on Friday, post running up and down One Tree Hill in training for Tough Guy. Stupid knee. I should remember to take my camera up there on Tuesday because the sunset is truly beautiful, even if it does kill the meagre warmth provided by the winter sun.

3.) I have a cold/suspected tonsillitis. I can't be bothered with going to the Dr, given that we have a swine flu pandemic going on and you have to go in through the back door after ringing the bell three times. I wouldn't want to touch that bell, since I know I don't have swine flu, but could potentially get it from that. Ew. Oh well, guess I will just have to put up and shut up.

4.) I gave Baby K Peach Ice Tea today....right before dinner. Wow. That is clearly a lunchtime drink (along with Coke).

5.) I do not want to work in the dungeon (aka, the inpatient service). There will be much cleaning of the data and possibly freezing of me since they can't work out how to set my room above 15C. I wonder if I will have any visits from random patients who are clearly on anti psychotics or are looking for something to self harm with.

It's there and it's not

There is a certain reservedness about some people, a little like they are holding themselves back from being there in the moment. A look shared between two people, a pause, a knowing silence, the way they just hold themselves back a little, a guarded vulnerability. You unconsciously don't pry, but you wonder. One day, you piece it all together or you get a great torrent of information, and you know - you begin guarding their vulnerability as well. Maybe this works, maybe it doesn't.

And maybe, you answer your phone and the past rushes up to meet you, carrying unresolved issues and unnervingly familiar scenario. You can't make it better, you can't stop it from happening, and you have to deal with it. That hidden vulnerability comes bursting to the surface and expands, and try as you might, you can't entirely shield yourself or others from seeing it in all it's painful glory. It's hard, but it's family.

My aunt's boss/friend died yesterday morning, quite suddenly. I arranged to bring my aunt and Baby K back from their holiday in Chch, and fielded the inevitable phone calls enquiring about my aunt since she was out of service range. You see, nearly seven years ago, nine days after the birth of Baby K, my uncle died suddenly. Even now, thinking of that morning feels like someone has punched me in the chest. It took my aunt a long time to get to a point of functioning normally again, and this loss is the first major one since my uncle died. I don't know how I can tend to my aunt, other than being practical and taking care of Baby K. I don't know what tomorrow will bring, I don't know what next week will bring, I don't know what will happen when my aunt goes back to work, I don't know how she will deal with losing another male figure in her life. I don't know how I can deal with this spate of deaths going on at work at the moment (in this year alone we've had a client die, a former client die, four fathers (three in the past month alone), a mother, and numerous others). I don't know how long I can look at my grandfather and not see him going soon - and how I can look him in the eyes without showing that fear.

I don't know, it's hard, but it's family.

Almost a little down

I reposted on that forum again - and now I feel that the same three people are again attacking me and ignoring what I am saying. I am not taking it as personally as last time, but it makes me sad that these three people are a medical professional, a medical student, and a reported medical student. They all seem to be very rigid in their ideas, so I wonder about their clinical skills/what they are teaching. I hope that their persona's on the forum are not how they are in real life.

I have a meeting tomorrow concerning a particular type of diagnosis and how it relates to trauma. I'm surprisingly quite anxious about this, as I think that the research may harm the outpatient service and the validity of the diagnosis, as well as have serious implications for those with the diagnosis. I don't particularly like the supervisor (personally) and I have issues with his professional publications. Apparently he is a guy who you either hate or love, and I am clearly not in the love group.

Not only do I need to be at work by 8am, but I am staying until 6 or later, training for Tough Guy. After hearing of what a coworker thought of the Auckland one, I'm just a little hesitant about this now. It's going to be an experience, I just don't know if I will like it. I handled the triathlon, but I wanted to quit almost every single minute. Le sigh.

Baby K has gone on holiday in Chch for the week. I miss her.

Light and fluffy ten random things

Now that I've got that off my chest, I actually have something less heavy to say. Just for kicks, I'm going to bullet point it

• My service manager said that I am awesome (mainly for accurately predicting the number of cases we'll have by the end of the year and for that number not being too far out, or outside capacity)
• She also shared that she gets botox every six months (cue awkward silence in the meeting)
• I then received an email that said that they are going to get rid of the duty database from which I just made all the predictions and did the descriptive statistics. I am less than happy and it better not happen before the end of the year.
• My upper eye lid is itchy for no reason and it's very distracting
• I have excellent fire making skills, even with wet wood (that seems oddly dirty to me)
• I had a dream that involved a new apartment complex with awesome elevators and a game park behind it. Unfortunately for the sheep and zebra, the cheater escaped and was hunting them, but it was okay because I was behind the fence. Then the rain woke me up at 5.30am (i.e. 30 minutes before it was supposed to) and I was not happy, despite being cheater-less
• I had a strand of hair get up under my contact. I never want to be stabbed in the eye, I can't take pain there
• Speaking of which, my osteopath is astounded about my pain tolerance. I guess that's what walking on a sublexated patella will do to you. I should really make that acupuncture/massage therapist appointment for that. And pick up my prescriptions that I collected last week (mmm drugs). Opps.
• I got a perm and it fell out two weeks later. Oh no, I got a perm, it feel out six hours later, I complained and four days later I was in the torture chair/hairdresser chair getting it re done. My hair is slightly more fluffy, but straight.

This is not an REM song, but.....will I lose myself?

I wonder if by going into medicine, I will lose this part of myself that is able to think outside the box. It would be quite ironic, as on the test that shall never be spoke of again I wrote about this very thing. I am a strong believer/proponent/idealist about the Te Whare Tapa Wha model of health, and while this accepted in mental health, I've had a few run in's with people recently who are almost vehement in their opposition of anything that is not the biomedical system.

I was quite stunned about this, given that they are medical students, residents, GP's etc. Surely, a tool that is useful in dealing with people with chronic conditions, would be something that knowledge hungry people would be interested in? If it's something that could possibly assist in reducing the effects of diabetes, CHF, whatever, then it would be worth considering, rather than dismissing out of hand because it's not evidence based. Really, what I felt was a subtle racism towards these ideas simply because it wasn't conventional - and this was the first time that I had ever personally experienced it. It certainly gave me pause because I wasn't sure that this is what I was perceiving to be accurate, but it was. I could see myself losing track of the conversation at hand (osteopathic medicine) because I felt I was being attacked for my beliefs. Durie and the others had a lot of mana to be able to stand up in this culture of belief. I think what was worse, was the sense that they had to change my mind and wouldn't let up. Hell, I backed away for a few days and tried to start a different conversation, and once again it's led back to the fact that I think in a different way to them. I'm not trying to push my beliefs on them, but I do stand strong in mine. I do believe that only doing conventional (allopathic/western/usual) medicine or only doing alternative (complementary/traditional) medicine is harmful to the whole person, but this isn't how everyone thinks. It's how I think, and how I make decisions. I do worry about their future clients/patients who have a different belief system to them and thus need more consideration of interventions. A little consideration goes a long way for compliance.

Is medicine going to be like some sort of cult where freedom of belief is going to be beaten out of me? Will I be strong enough to withstand this beating? I feel that now, my taurangawaewae is strong enough, but I am able to have this reaffirmed with the way my service works.

I don't want to loose myself but I do want to be in medicine.

Obitelj

So much for my daily posting. Or even the continuation of my USA trip. Le sigh.

I love my family. I really do. We are the stereotypical dallie's, always up in each others business. It's what we do, how we function. So when a member of the family needs help, we spring into action. We do what is necessary and then we talk it to death. Except death, that's oddly saved up for random moments like at the supermarket.

Drama flavour of the week goes to my cousin L, who is second to me in my generation level. There was a domestic in which her boyfriend M threw her dressing table across their bedroom, sending everything crashing (including various items/photos' given to her by her dead stepfather) for the electric blanket not being turned on, blah blah blah screaming match, her running away, calling us in a flood of tears and panic/fear that he was going to hurt her, my aunt came running, got her out of there, it was so awful etc etc, stayed up late counselling her etc.

So M takes off for his home town for the weekend, she ends up rationalising everything, goes home Sunday night, he doesn't talk to her, then on Monday night, she goads him into conversation by saying that rather than him stick around to talk about 'what happened'. So he flies off the handle (again...notice a pattern), dumps her, she comes running back her in utter shock and upset - I make the mistake of sending her sister K to give her a hug, which upset her more and K then got upset for making L more upset, yada yada more talking. My aunt gets her a crisis appointment at her old counsellor, and we think that we've finally gotten through to her. L even gets good and mad because M ends up padlocking the gate to their house. My aunt goes around there to get some of her stuff, and M ends up crying in her arms. Because he's never done that before, everyone is surprised and we spend a further night talking about it, L's daddy issues and M's parent issues/behaviour modelling.

We figured that it's over. The counsellor even told her that it was not a good idea to go back. But because L felt guilty for making him cry (where the hell was his guilt?), and pities him for his bad parents, she went to talk to him Friday night - after promising that she would have a sleepover/movies night with her little sister, K. I put to K to bed at 8.30pm Friday night and L wasn't home. I was pissed. When she did come home, she went straight to bed, barely a word. I don't even know if she even apologised to K in the morning. Whatever. L left mid morning to go for a drive with M. We expressed concern, but she said that this was a good way to talk. All throughout the day K was certain - immovably certain- that L was going to have her movie night tonight, that she'd be home in the afternoon and they could hang out. I didn't want her to get her hopes up, and from about 4pm, K was a mess. She was all over the place, giddily happy one moment, in tears the next, really out of character naughty the next. Once again, I put her to bed without movie night. L came home well after K was asleep, to tell us that she was going back to M, from tonight. She didn't want us to be disappointed in her or to pass judgement.
What can we do? My aunt doesn't want her to be there in that relationship, but short of physically tying her down, there wasn't anything that could be done.

I am passing judgement. I do have an opinion. She is with him because she is afraid of being alone, of having to deal with things, of having him feeling hurt. She is with him because he is emotionally manipulating and abusing her, and because she can't see - or won't see - that he will escalate, he will hit her. I told her flat out that had there been kids when he lost it last week, I would have called CYFS. If it happens again, I will call the police. I don't know that I can prevent my disgust from showing if he is around, I know that I will not take her pumping him up (post last blow up, she tried to convince me that M is really smart, and much better at biology than me - despite me having done it at university and M not finishing high school).

I just don't know why the hell she can't see the truth. Why she can't see that you don't have to be in a relationship in order to be a worthy person. Why she can't see that from the time she met him, she has been nothing but a shell of who she used to be. Why she can't see that the concessions that she makes to be with him are repeating what her father did to her in childhood (the promising K and then not showing up). Hell, I just don't get it. And right now, I do not care if she were to read this. I will tell this to her face.

It just makes me so pissed. If I wasn't so involved in my family, this wouldn't be such a big deal. Maybe if she had stopped to realise what effect she is having on K, I wouldn't feel so affronted by her choice.

This wasn't even the only family drama this week.

San Francisco Part II

After waking at 4am, I still didn't get up until 11am. For some reason, the early morning TV news managed to lull me to sleep. This happened in NYC and LA as well, so I guess I've discovered the cure for early waking insomnia. When I did manage to get up, I ambled (because I was on holiday, and thus could amble) over to the Red Bus at Union Sq. I made an awful mistake here: I purchased some Coke. People had told me that it tasted different, but no one warned me that it tasted like plastic. Every so often throughout the day, I forget and take a sip. And each and every time, I screwed up my face. Coke disaster aside, I sat in the top of the open bus and took picture of people going about their business. When I was in London, I'd just ignore the tourist buses but you can really see a lot from up there!

Inner City School complete with concrete baseball 'field'

The notable sights of San Francisco are really quite close together, but the hills are like Wellington on steroids - there is no way I'd bother walking it all. We did pretty much the same trip that I did the day before, but went across the bridge. Just getting on the motorway to get to the bridge was pretty trippy, I was fairly sure I was going to die because we were on the wrong side! Clearly, I am not meant for driving in the States.


They made us aware that it was going to be windy and cold going over the bridge, but hey - I grew up in New Plymouth! It's not called Taranaki Hardcore for no reason! I was prepared, I had a beanie, sunnies, a Kathmandu jumper - the San Francisco Bridge was not going to beat me! I stayed on top, with about 6 other people, 4 who went downstairs halfway through. The entrance to the bridge is stunning, but about halfway along, all I could think about was the cold, cold wind.

It was so stinging that my contacts were drying up and I had tears streaming down my face. In my "I am so tough" mindset, I had forgotten just how much I hated the cold. And it was cold and windy. I huddled into my jumper, silently thanked my Aunt for telling me to take this jumper over the others and tried to hide. My hands went grey and as I discovered later that night, I got windburnt cheeks. Hot.

My photos of the bridge look very hazy and grey, which is odd because it was quite a clear day (although, did I mention that the wind was very cold?). It took me forever to manage to take photos from the other side of the bridge because I couldn't manage to get my fingers to work in the right motion.

After I managed these quite snaps, I took sweet, sweet refuge in the bus. It was warm.

Please? Where is the DO NOT SMOKE sign?

Thankfully, I sat in the protected lower level and managed to coax some blood into my fingers. I could feel! By the time we got back into San Fransisco proper, I was normal some more. Enough so, that when the driver asked if anyone wanted to get off to walk the crookedest street, I jumped at the idea! Silly me. The crookedest street is so because back in the day (of horse and cart, not the 80's), horses would go too fast down the steep straight hill, toppling over and breaking their necks. So the street was made to go crooked, so as to give them a shallower gradient. Or something. Accents + wind + aging sound system are hard to understand.

Of course, in order to have a steep down street, one must have a steep up street. This didn't faze me at the beginning,

You can't even see the top of the street! Side note: The cars are all parked at a 90 degree angle so they don't accidentally roll down the street


But I made it! I started from down there somewhere

People live on the street! I didn't realise that it was only one way

It was here that I pulled out my map, got rid of my jumper and decided that I could manage the walk to Fisherman's Wharf. And I did! I made it without getting lost! It was a very nice walk, excellent area.

The other side of the Pacific Ocean

Fisherman's Wharf itself is a little, um overdone? It's a wharf that feels quite cheesy and overpriced (which is what Lonely Planet said), so after a quick look around - there is a store where you can buy baseballs for a few hundred dollars?! - I decided to catch the tram back to Union Square. There are only a couple of tram lines left in San Fransisco, and the Powell St one has to use an old fashioned way of turning around - being manually pushed on a turntable. That was entertaining, and there was only one annoying child/parent (tally for the day? 6), so it was good.

Sadly, I ran out of time for Alcatraz, so this was as close as I could get - and I have many pictures that look exactly the same:

Instead, I headed back to my hotel where I had a nap (what is the joy of going on holiday if you don't nap at all opportunities?) after running around trying to find a plug converter since I left mine at home. For some reason, I let the sale guy talk me into getting an earthing converter for the converter. Thankfully, I woke a little early to get ready to go to dinner with my friend, who I had missed the night before, because lo and behold he knocked on my door early. Surprised the hell out of me, and I had to scramble to get finish getting ready.

We went to a Mexican Restaurant, since the only one I have been to is Hola! in Parnell, and let's be honest, I go there for the frozen margaritas. He directed me to the BART station and I had a mild freak out that we were going to the Mission - Lonely Planet had said that it was best not to go there - but I figured I was with a San Franciscan so I'd be ok. And I was! I talked incessantly about pumpkin pie and various other unimportant things. He walks really fast! I mentioned my confusion with some basic things (the light switches are upside down! The whole tipping thing, the weird plugs, the giant utes), which he mocked me for and despite my insistence that New Zealand was at the top of the world - there are maps to show it - I was unable to convince him.

Sunil and I - you can clearly see how I'm windburnt and jetlagged

The Mexican place was nice and very vege friendly - I had (half) a tofu burrito. I also managed to knock their tip cup into the rubbish bin, for which she glared at me, and then I forgot to tip (!) as I ran away in embarrassment. Awkward. The corn chips were bigger and plainer than the ones at Hola! but the salsa? Freaking spicy, like someone dumped half a bottle of Kaitaia Fire in it. The burrito was huge, but so good. I felt a little bad about not finishing it, but it wasn't like I could take it with me? They should offer a forginer size.

We then went to get pie. I was fixated on pumpkin pie because it's so foreign. How can mashed pumpkin, which I have for dinner with peas and kumera, be in a pie? We do have pie in NZ, but our pies are savory, meat based type. When they are sweet, they are normally shortcrust, so I was very excited by the idea of pie. Sadly, the pie store did not have pumpkin pie (because they are organic, locally sourced only **eye roll**), so I settled on pear pie. It was more syrupy/sugary than our pies.

After pie, we BARTed back to Powell St, and went up the Westin St Francis. It has a glass elevator up to 31 stories, so you can see most of SF at night which was cool. I have no idea why I didn't take any pictures, but sometimes I just fail. After that awesomeness, we chilled in my hotel room where he made fun of the taniwha on the 10cent coin and we watched Greys Anatomy (live!).

I had to be at the airport at 6am the next morning, so we bid adieu and I crashed out.

Next: I navigate the BART at 4am, loose the top of the poster container and eat pancakes. All before 7am! Also, I fly to NYC, loose another 3 hours (on top of a 5 hour flight!) and take a two hour shuttle ride, eat pizza and sleep in the best bed ever.

Nearly failed

Today completely got away from me. One minute it was 8am (or really, 15 past when I walked into KC, and 35 past when I got to my desk...it's just like 8am), the next it was half twelve and then it was nearly three. I got buried under a pile of exciting paperwork. For real, it was exciting because it's my study and we are ahead of schedule for Phase One and Phase Two. Plus, I get to consult about clients, and write notes.

I know I'm sad, but I'm perfectly okay with this - I love data.

Anywoo, this post is not about my ability to ramble about my job (that's a post in itself), but more about how I nearly failed to post on my second day of "Post Everyday". I do have a good explanation - not excuse! - as I was at K's school performance, then I was tutoring T till 10pm. Plus I was up at 4am (!) when the power meter reader box thingy decided to click incredibly loudly. Nothing like being woken up by your Aunt because she didn't know what to do either. Apparently the power company has sorted it, but I will not be a happy chappy if it goes off.

And there I go again, rambling. So random thoughts for today:

• You really know you are out West when there is a kid named Holden, and it's accepted as perfectly natural
• Parents who don't want CYFS involvement should not name their kids stupid names
• I may have accidentally started a revolt with telling people that my contract is ending and not being renewed. They are quite pissed. I find this amusing.
• Sleeping with a 6 year old is akin to sleeping with a hot water bottle that never looses its heat.
  
• I am yet to drink a hot chocolate without burning my tongue
• I don't like winter, fog, rain, cold or the dry lips I get from the combination of these
• 11pm is not an appropriate time to remember that the last meal I ate was last night. A handful of jet planes, half a chocolate bar, a Sherbert Fizz and half a bottle of dinner does not make for healthy eating
• Random acts of kindness are fun and amusing. However, I am still annoyed when I let someone in and they don't wave or flash their hazards to say thank you.
• I feel that there is something that I need to do tomorrow (other than dash a PhD proposal) but I can't remember what the hell it is

Tomorrow will be better. Hopefully.

This Kauri Tree really is square
(Coroglen-Tapu Rd, Coromandel)

San Francisco Part I

You know when you avoid doing something for so long, and it's always in the back of your mind just niggling at you? But not doing it is still easier than actually doing and it just becomes this awkward thing that you know you need to do, but it's been to long. Every so often I'd catch myself thinking, that would really good to blog about so I don't forget, but I'd remember that I still hadn't blogged about America and it would all be avoided instead.

But no more. I will blog every day, or at least mention something random or funny that happened. I need to make this ultimatum or it's not going to happen. So without further ado, America!

San Francisco Part I

The day before I left for America, I was fluttering around at my parents place, still finishing things and packing. Yes, I was in Brisbane despite flying to San Francisco from Auckland. I had to catch a horrid early morning flight, which was only really horrid because I had to get up at 415am since my parents live so far out. Le sigh. Dad was really sweet and made sure that I got checked in all okay, carrying my suitcase and giving me cash so I could get breakfast. Aww.

Dad cutting his delicious carrot cake

Waiting at Auckland Airport was boring and stupid, but luckily they let me check in early (6 hours early!), so went through security and took over a whole row of seats. Airport seats are not made for laying on.

What's up with people queuing really early? Do they really think that they will miss out on their seat? Anywoo, despite the gunners I made it to my seat, sulked a little about my travel agent not booking my vege meal, got over myself and settled down to watch the entertainment. How did people travel long distance without it? The meal was predictably bad since it was all about the meat, but they had cheese! I may have danced in my seat. Sleeping on the plane was also predictably bad and I have no idea what I watched. But that was ok, I had cheese! Plus, since I didn't order a vege meal, I got to have pancakes! Mwahahaha, suck it stupid Englishwoman sitting next to me who wanted it but had ordered a vege meal (She got all shity at me when I declined to swap seats with her husband because he was sitting in the middle seat).

Air NZ AKL-SFO 7/10

Of course, karma had it in for me and I ended up stuck in a line with Stupid!English couple. Le sigh. The American Customer officers were carrying guns! It was scary, and the actual customs guy was very rude and seemed quite frustrated with asking me questions. I was terrified that he wouldn't let me in, and so glad that I managed to remember the name of my hotel. I was pretty much grinning when I got through - I'm sure I'm on some list now. Opps.

I had it all planned out that I would catch the BART to the Powell St station and it would all be sweet. Except, I failed at the first hurdle of getting a BART ticket. It's not like other ones where you select between your destinations and it tells you the ticket price and spits out the change. These ones require you to view from the list on the side how much your ticket price is and then use the up/down to equate the ticket price tot hat which you need. It seems such an antiqued system, and it confused people other than me - Americans!
I made it, eyed up people walking past and made it onto the BART tube thingy. I did manage to get off at my stop, dragged my suitcase up to the top (because I seemed to have lost the ability to turn around and check for working escalators), and promptly got lost. All my preparation in looking at street view, and I fail. Thankfully, I am a geek and printed off a map that indicated I was one block over to the right and I needed to go up and left. Totally okay. Found hotel, checked in and discovered that it was .....not what the pictures suggested. The whole of the second floor (because I insist that the Ground Floor is not the First Floor) was draped in painter's plastic. It was very um, not polished? Disappointing? Who cares, it had a running shower and a bed? Hell yeah.

Once I had worked out that the light switches were in fact, not broken, I got to experience the pure joy that is showering after flying/airport grossness for over 24 hours. It was truly glorious.

I had a few hours before I was meeting up with a friend, so I took the receptionists advice and checked out the Apple store. Free internet! Let's not discuss how long it took me work out how to use an Apple computer, but I appreciated the free internets and the lack of gun on the security guard.
Afterwards, I hung out in Union Sq before jumping on a open deck bus for the request red bus tour. Not exactly built for great audio, however I managed to catch a few things as we circled around. And I got snap happy:

Awesome graffiti

Post - Great Fire buildings, with copper framing

Pretty Buildings

More Pretty Buildings

Union Square

Very Blurry Alcatraz

IHOP!!!!
(International House of Pancakes)

Yellow School Bus! Barnes and Nobel! World Market!

I went back to my hotel to get ready to meet up with my friend, only since my phone wouldn't roam unless I was at the airport, there was a mass miscommunication and I ended up in the restaurant and he waited for me in the hotel lobby. Fail. Anyway, I gave up about an hour later (stupid waitress looked so sorry for me), and I had a grilled cheese sandwich.......never again. It was brown, all of the meal. Ugh. I ate some and then regretted it, and Wham! Jet Lag! I think I managed to tip, but hell if I know I did it right, and this fear followed me everywhere.

I managed to make it back, pass out on the bed and awoke at 2am when the garbage men in the alley below decided to play games. American TV? Just as bad as NZ TV at that time, although their early morning news is weird and kind of false? I'm not sure exactly, but I found this in NYC and LA as well, so I guess it's normal for them.

Next: San Francisco Part II - windburn, walking, trams, culture shock and pie

Wanting what I can't have, forgetting my morals

I am currently doing a fabulous verision of looking like I am actually doing work. I really just cannot be bothered, even to work on the projects that I want to work on, or should, being as how Good Friday and Easter Monday are this weekend and thus I have 4 days (oh novus!) in which to complete everything before I head off overseas. But nope, nothing. Not a single piece of motivation.

I must say, this afternoon sun is rather nice. I miss Summer already, although the extra hour of sleep was nice.

Anyhoo, I had a conference last week which was really just a cover for some silly things that I did like sleep with my ex and fall for an unavailable guy.

I don’t know what the hell is wrong with me? I booty called Z and was just so disappointed by it that I wished I had just gone to bed instead. Of course, he left his belt behind, which I meant to return to him but didn’t, so it’s now at my friend’s place. Awkward. Sigh.

I did meet a wonderful guy (no! must not like him!) guy on Friday night. He is a friend of my friend S, and just so funny and witty and nice and gentlemanly and stunning. I want him. We went out for dinner and cocktails, and we kind of just hit it off. I attempted to stop hitting on him once I discovered that he had a girlfriend, but it was so hard. He was such a gentleman but not too much so? And, he grew up in the same small town as I did, even having the same intermediate teacher (ah, Mr Hine – still the best teacher that either of us had) and going to the same kindy. And, funny! But in the same way that my mind works, so it’s good and not bad. Several times I caught him staring at me, and he I. We got to the last club and being as how neither of us are dancers (love!) we just chilled and drank more cocktails (ok, I drank more cocktails, he drank bourbon). He kept asking me what I wanted, to which I demurred. Eventually, my morals won out, I told him I couldn’t give him anything he didn’t already have, and ran away to the bathroom where I threw a temper tantrum. He was gone when I got back – which he txted S and said sorry but it was getting too hard for him to not take me home.

It’s truly pathetic how much I want this guy. A while a go, a friend at work got me to list the qualities of my perfect guy and I actually meet him but he’s attached? Nevermind the geographical distance, he already has a freaking girlfriend. What kind of person am I that I would have gone home with him and I’m sad that I couldn’t? What the hell? This is not me, and yet at the same time – I want him so badly. This is not how my crushes usually play out, this feels stronger and damn it, he said he’d come to America/Mexico with me! Fuckity.

Speaking of which, I’m coming to America in like just over two weeks! Yay! Seriously, anyone up for meeting up? Want me to bring any NZ/Australian foods? I’m sure everyone will love Vegemite. My foods to try in the US is really long, I don’t know that I will manage them all. I’m excited and terrified all at the same time! It would help if Homeland Security would stop crashing on me so I can apply for my permission to enter US visa on the visa-waiver scheme (*rolls eyes*).

I can hold my breath for a count of 1, 2, 3

I'm driving myself insane. Not just regular insane with petty issues and so forth, but real heart wrenching, painful and long lasting stress induced insanity. The kind that makes it ironic that I work in mental health - I should just admit myself to HDU and ask for some PRN.

I fucked up the Gamsat. The very test that would dictate my chances of getting into medical school. I screwed up. I got cocky about the essay section and I had a total mindblank (caused in part because the stimulus quotes were ridiculous and uninspiring). I did nut out something, because saying nothing is worse than saying something incoherant. And incoherant I was.

I did ok (I think) in the first part, which tested my humanities knowledge and reasoning, and when the essay section started, I was feeling good about myself. One hour later and I was exhauseted and questioning my motivations. What the hell was I doing? On our release, I got the fuck away from everyone else, found a spot where I could see a tiny sliver of the ocean and had a bit of a moment. I was actually holding it together pretty well, but one of my "oh no, I fucked it up" texts got a reply from my dad that simply said "I have faith in you". Well now.

I manned up and came back for the three hour torture that was the science section. I think that I would have got the same score if I had just not turned up. Not that I have my score (and I won't for another 7 weeks!) but, the magic eight ball cant be wrong. I had actually resigned myself to sitting it again next year, before I had even opened the (very thick!) Section III.

So here I wait. I'm not a patient person, but I've figured out that my lesson for the year is patience. I am still waiting on my thesis results, now I have to wait on this. I really hate that I am doing this to myself and that there is no one else to direct my frustration towards.

I did meet up with a friend, got drunk, sobered up (damn you food!) but stayed out dancing until 5am. Go me. I was so tired the day after, I'm such a nana. The only sad part about that was that my booty call fell asleep by the time I was ready. I'm seeing him on Wednesday when I go back down there. I will get what I need.

I have written off any chance that I might get into either of the universities on the East Coast (UQ and Griffith) as both of them need really high Gamsats and I've fucked that. There is a small private (although not in the way the US does private, just that it's a Catholic University) called Notre Dame in Fremantle.....which happens to be in Perth in Western Australia. Yeah. They do have a lower GPA/Gamsat combo because they weight the interview 60% - and they give you bonuses for previous experience and Masters.

Hell, I don't know. I"m stressiing myself ou over something that I have no control over and is all soemthing of a gamble. Jeebus. I will go wherever, I will sit the gamsat agian. I want this, bt I am not a patient person.

I'm still not that excited about my trip, it's almost like I have to get the Wellington Nurses conference out of the way before I can get excited. It's really weird, like I'm stressing over having enough spending money (since I've paid for my flights and hotels) but it's still not real. The four weeks from the second week of April till the second of May are going to be excellent and potentially devestating.

I'm just a pawn in a game of pain. I've done what I've done. Hell, I dyed my hair dark brown - although it turned out black because that's how blonde it went over summer - and I look like an emo. I've refused to acknowledge it when people have commented on it because I thought that it looked so bad, but today my hair decided that it was looking damn fine (style wise) and so I let it be loose. Three people commented on how good my eyes (actual eyes...not boobs) looked against the hair colour. Apparently they popped. So, win?

Oh novus!

My last post was so long ago - so much for updating this regulary. Fail

I've been so busy with getting ready for my six weeks of horror/awesomeness, that I let this just fail by the wayside. Not that this is an excuse, because I should be better, but is a timely reminder not to let the big things get in the way of the little things.

The big things:

• My trip to Mexico via the USA - all flights and hotels are booked! I've obviously watched too much Law and Order because I was nervous about going to NYC on my own, so I've booked myself into the Hilton. Cost me $900 for three nights, but I wasn't staying in a youth hostel by myself and the 2 star hotels were just a little cheaper.... and now I'm justifying myself. Opps. Oh well, is done.
  
  
  
• The exam-that-shall-not-be-dignified-with-name, is next Saturday (breathe!). I don't feel as well prepared as I imagined myself, but at the same time I'm not freaking out too much. I have my moments but I have to believe that this is what I am meant for, tha this is what I can do. So I shall do it - I even told my manager at work that I'm studying at work, so my production will be less until after it. It's hard to study when I'm not avoiding doing my thesis.
  
  
• The triathlon is this Sunday. Oh novus! I'm definitely not anywhere near ready for it - I nearly died when I was doing the practice bike ride up Music Point! Eating is a good idea. Opps. Thankfully, I re-read the directions and we only have to do Music Point once (not twice like E suggested) and the run has been rerouted so it's all flat! (This is me psyching myself up). I've already told CFU to expect me laying on the floor on Monday morning.
  

Work has been both ass and fantastic. I no longer have a life, but that is ok because I am saving money. At least that is what I am telling myself because if I didn't then that would be worry me.

There was this guy from my Aunt's work who came around to look at Poppy's boat who was a bit alright (and he commented on my clevage dispaly to my Aunt, which whatevers I was wearing a singlet) but my Aunt seems to think he is a bit of a loser, but again, whatevers. I need some. I will get some next weekend.

I think I'm a little crazy at the moment. I should have some more sugar. Can't be having sugar drops now.

Adrift

We lost a client yesterday. She was high risk and had been engaged with our service for some time, but something happened and it wasn't enough. I don't know really what to do or say, and I'm just aiming to be there for my friends and colleagues, but I don't feel like it's enough. I didn't know her personally; I certainly didn't treat her or see her regularly but I did read her case. I use her data frequently. She was in the inpatient unit too, so I'll have to read and reread her case there.

I wish I knew what to do. I wish there was something that I could do. First suicide in nine years at the service.

I just don't know.

I'm so angry, I.....cry?

I am a research assistant for a CAMHS. I work hard, I work fast and I always try to support the clinicians. I found out that there was a Mental Health Nurses Conference coming up, so I rallied the nurses, prodded and cajoled them into thinking about research ideas for presenting until I had four abstracts sent off for approval. All were accepted, and I began working hard. For the SACS one, I wrote the ethics application, I wrote the research proposal, I wrote the institutional approval application, I pulled the data, I will do the data analysis. No offence to the nurse, but I have done at least 90% of the fucking work - and the nurse is appreciative of it because she doesn't understand the process or how to do it. In fact, the nurse manager said that she is amazed and astounded by my work.

So why the fuck was I declined to attend this conference? Without me, the service wouldn't even be presenting. The Clinical Directors justification for this was because I am not a nurse, and it is a nursing conference and there are three other nurses going. No shit. Two of those nurses are going to present a fucking poster. I'm talking about a 20 minutes presentation where I am a named author.

Of course, my ridiculous reaction was to get angry and that lead to crying. I'm not crying for pity, I'm crying because I can't seem to manage not express my anger verbally. Which of course makes me look weak and not professional, the opposite of what I am aiming for.

I want to go to this conference because I have done so much work for it, and because it is my only show of professional development. I have three areas for performance reviews - conferences, grants and publications.

What this basically comes down to is that I feel I am being undervalued because I am not a member of a clinician team, and thus I am feeling like there is really no point to my work there. And because I can't adequately explain my position, I don't know what to do.

I never thought it would be like this. I was just thinking on the weekend that I really love my job, and this notwithstanding, I do. It's just that this is such a big deal.

With all the shit that has gone down so far this year, I wonder what the hell I did that set off this bad portion of karma?

Thank god for vodka and sleeping pills.

Making Myself Happy

One emo post deserves a happy, random one. So here we go:

I really like Auckland beaches. The West Coast is wild and rugged with iron sand that burns you feet for even thinking of standing on it, the waves are notoriusly dangerous and wild with rapidly shifting rips; the East Coast is more sheltered with white sand and gentle rolling waves. I went to the beach this afternoon to meet up with some friends but got the timing wrong so I just sat down for an hour and centred myself. The waves were barely lapping at the shore, the sun was setting and the humidity disappeared. Before I left my aunt's place this afternoon, I noticed that Auckland was hazed over - this only happens when the humdity is around 95% in the late afternoon. But sitting on that beach, all of my worries and stress of the past week didn't matter. What mattered was the sound of the ocean and the feel of my soul being calmed. It was peaceful.

Hell I'm even sitting under a pohutukawa tree! How much more quintessential kiwi can you get?

This looks weird but it's from laying down looking up

I don't think that I could ever live somewhere with no beach. Living in london was torture, and the second I saw the beach coming in to land at Auckland airport, I was calmer and felt more secure.

You wouldn't think that I would be a beach person. Despite being a Dallie, i'm as white as they come. I burn like the dickins in nz and I don't like the transition from being wet to dry. But seeing the ocean gives me a feeling of peace, its part of why I love the drive into work, my motorway goes right along and over the sea.

I have mad skillz - I took this as I was going 100km approaching a corner

The "skyline" of Auckland. Yup - that's the whole city