It's no Spinal Tap

My Virtual Debut Album* cover:



So my random debut album appears to be speaking to me. It's not really as grim as it first looks - Towong Shire is in Victoria abutting NSW (where I hope to go to uni one day), the photo is a surfer climbing a sand dune (I really like silhouettes) and the full quote is rather inspirational:

I am here for a purpose and that purpose is to grow into a mountain, not to shrink to a grain of sand. Henceforth will I apply ALL my efforts to become the highest mountain of all and I will strain my potential until it cries for mercy.
Og Mandino (1923-1996)

Ever feel that your life is not exactly yours?


*DEBUT ALBUM!
To Do This
1 - Go to “wikipedia.” Hit “random”or click http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Special:RandomThe first random wikipedia article you get is the name of your band.
2 - Go to “Random quotations”or click http://www.quotationspage.com/random.php3The last four or five words of the very last quote of the page is the title of your first album.
3 - Go to flickr and click on “explore the last seven days”or click http://www.flickr.com/explore/interesting/7daysThird picture, no matter what it is, will be your album cover.
4 - Use photoshop or similar to put it all together

(Via EDNurseauras)

Here I go again on my own

Well it's official. Rejection #2.

Knowing it was coming didn't make it any easier.

I hope they call me Henry

Not posting is certainly easier than posting. I didn't do it for so long and then it was too hard to even know where to start so I just didn't. And here I am, nearly two months later.

The futility of it all is that nothing has changed. Nothing. Time has been marching in a disconcerting way and the end of the year, and my shift back to Australia, is looming ever so much closer. Stupid time. Work has been getting progressively more complex and painful - so much to do an I just don't have the fucking time to do anything but tread water in a manner more like functional drowning. I have three/four months to tie up 15 projects at The Zoo; 5 at The Dungeon and the ongoing project at the pantry. I worked out that I'm doing 1.9 FTE. Yes, 1.9 FTE and only getting paid for 1. I've decided to take it upon myself to set it up to hire someone to help me out for two days a week. I have a meeting next week with the head honcho and the financial wizard to make this happen. I don't know what I'm going to do if it doesn't work.

While I've accepted that I've got a snowballs hope in hell at getting in this year, I don't think that I will really believe it until I get the Email of Doom. I even had a dream about it last night, where East Underwear had given me an interview and I was so mad that they ruined my Plan B. Somehow zombies, speeding, Wellesley St and some old friends were involved. How could they offer me an interview? I had plans!


The wait is screaming to an end and I don't have a harness. It's almost over.

Waiting for the packing faeries

This time, it was going to be different. This time, I would be prepared. It isn't that hard really. Most people can manage it and do so well. I, on the other hand, always screw it up.

I haven't packed. Again. I'm only going to Australia for two weeks on Saturday morning, and yet I still can't manage to pack on time. I knew at the start of this week that I wouldn't be able to pack on Friday as I have a dinner, so I planned to pack tonight. AND IT HASN'T HAPPENED???!

I know, I'm blogging about it instead of actually doing it. Ugh.

Where the hell is my passporto? I do this everytime I go on a freaking trip, I should put a little chip on it (and wouldn't that go down well if I tried to fly to the States?). Thankfully, this is not Italy and it has to be here somewhere.

Weeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee! Holiday! If only work hadn't gone to hell in a handbasket today, then I am sure that I would be more on top of things. As it is, I have two extra things to do tomorrow, and only one less than yesterday. This is not so great. I don't have the most important job in the service, so why the hell am I so slammed? Damn responsibilities.

Ok, drama over. Found my passport. The packing faeries have not come though.

The eye of the storm

You know you're sick when the prospect of your impending holiday isn't enough to cheer you up.

Baby K helped make dinner last night but did not appreciate the "meanness of onions burning [her] eyes! Need glasses that wrap around all of [her] eyes to keep the meanness out". Onions are now to be referred to as mean things as this is an"irrefutable fact".

I will, however, need to be more vigilant to keep her away from infomercials. It's hard to convince her that they don't do everything that they say in the 5 minute ride to school. The AbCircle Pro will not do more than 100 sit ups. The Shake'n weights will not make you have super strong arms, the RootBlast will not make our plants grow 300% bigger in the middle of winter. Here's your bag, have a great day at school, love you.

She did make me pudding (warmed apple with ice-cream) that was made with "love and kisses" because I am sick.

Gone away

After I finished setting up the device for Ernest Client, I asked if she wanted me to put some music on.

She asked for Bieber.

The horror.

I don't want you to be here when I get back

Seeing a crying toddler being brought down to X-Ray made me smile today. It's so much better to see them justifably upset rather than laying in their crib not moving or crying.

The panic alarm presser in The Dungeon needs to quit it. I can't wait until this one is well again.

Once again, I'm watching Coro St. What's wrong with me? I hate this show!

I do like a man in uniform - especially first thing in the morning.

Oddly enough, talking with Capt. American today made me imagine him in uniform and well, that was a sight to behold. Poor dear intern.

I need to stop yelling at people on the road, but they also need to stop driving so badly.

If you want to strike me down in anger, here I am

Sometimes, I know I'm heading into self-destruct mode and I just don't care. Remembering the past in detail tends to lead me there and yet I don't stop. Sometimes though, it's just okay to curl up in bed, have a drink (or five) and not fight it.

I just can't let that happen too often. Especially when I have access to teh internetz and proceed to log into chat rooms. And facebook people. And gmail chat. Oh my.

Now the question is, do I be more open about it? Not shout it from the rooftops, but not ignore it? Knowing that knowing that information couldn't be taken back?

Blahdeebleeblah.

Work tomorrow is going to be odd. I managed to triple book myself for three very different appointments. I am supposed to be journal writing with Toe and Chezza, but that's all the way on the other side of town and I need to drop Baby K off at school. Plus it's raining. I hate the rain. Then I have to run over to The Pantry to attend the meeting + score the psychometrics + consent a client, then run back over to OFland to pick up Baby K from dance lessons. When did my life get busy?

Moments in the soul

I turned 25 last week; it was kind of a let down, nothing brilliant happened, but nothing terrible either. It kind of just was. In saying that, I was talking with a dear friend last night, lamenting the march of time, when it dawned on me just how far I've come. I may not have the long term boyfriend and I may still be living with family, but I've done a lot in that time.

At 20, I was a mess. In March of that year, something terrible happened to me, and I survived. It wasn't pretty, but I did it. I still find it difficult to say and I know that there are maybe two (?three) people in my life that actually know what happened, and one who I am sure suspects (since she was there that night), but I can't bring myself to tell other people - who wants to give other people that ugliness? I know it would help to explain things I do and feel to people, but I can't hurt them and change the way they see me. I used to want something tragic in my life, so I could be that movie/tv heroine who is cared for and protected, but now I have it, I can't let people know.

At 21, I got asked to leave my job and my flat. So I left London. Even as that man chased me down the street and my face was streaming with tears, I knew that someday in the future, this moment would be comical. And it is! I got chased down a London street (with my 90L backpack on my back, my daypack on my front and towing a 20kg suitcase) by a man who thought that I stole his remotes!!! WTF? How does that happen? I left England, and went back home and healed from the events of the previous two years.

At 22, I graduated my bachelors (delayed satisfaction!) and completed my first post grad....which led me to my masters. It very nearly led me back down the path of my eating disorder, but I pulled that back in. I got my awesome job at The Zoo, which I am still at now. I have been able to grow at this job, to the point that I am now the sole research person across The Zoo, The Dungeon, The Pantry and the other Oh Yeah, That Service. This scares me on various points, but it's okay, you know?

At 23, I started writing my masters thesis. There were many tears, caused in large part by my batshit crazy supervisor. I still can't believe that she hauled me in front of the Head of Department! Bad luck for her that I was writing grant applications at the time, for I turned up at that meeting with excellent documentation of the timeline and progress status reports. The HoD was ineffectual in large part, and I definately felt that I was in the wrong spot (power-wise) as a student, he was going to back her all the way. Thankfully, I still had one card up my sleeve: proof that she marked my lit review twice (by mistake!) and in one copy said that I should do this and that, and in the other said that it was fine. They were exactly the same! Thankfully a friend was able to point me to another superviosr who loved my work and thought that my plan was brillant and on track. I had lunch with him the other day, and he still managed to inspire me to write it up for publication.

At 24, I sat in an internet cafe in LA (after my conference in Mexico was canceled) and found that I had not only passed my masters thesis - I had gotten second class, first division honours. Seriously. I totally wigged out but I didn't care. I had passed! Me! It was an awesome ending to a (mostly) awesome trip. After being terrified of traveling around Europe on my own, and settling to travel with people who didn't really care for me, I managed to travel around the States and Canada alone! I handled crises of various sorts, I made an executive decision to travel to Canada to see my darling friend (with no idea if my travel insurance would cover it) and did it all on my lonesome. I didn't care if other people thought that it was weird that I was traveling/sightseeing alone, because that meant that I got to see and do things that I wanted. Yes, it would have been nice and cheaper to have someone with me, but I didn't and it wasn't the end of the world. I also sat, and failed, the med school entrance exam - and lived. I did a two triathalons, I did a tough guy. I tried things outside my comfort zone because I realised that I would be ok.

Now, at 25, I have sat (and failed again!) the med school exam, and I'm ok with my applications. Someone has to have the bottom score and it might as well be me. I most likely won't get in, and that's okay. I have a back up plan that involves earning more monies and trying again. I may not have it all, but at least I've done things. I don't want to repeat the last five years, I want to see the next five years.

It might be nothing

Sooooooooooooooo, my big research project? The one client that I have consented and given the device? Yeah. In hospital on nasogastric feeding. It's kind of the opposite of what the programme is supposed to do.

Early failure! Only way is up!

Ha. It's not really a failure since I did want to see how the device would function in a hospital environment, but couldn't it have not been the first participant with the device?

Wherein I got over myself

I cannot change the past, what is done is done. I need to move on with this although I am applying to both Underwear Universities on the whim. Mainly because I can afford to loose the application fee and not applying will definitely mean that I won't get in.

So Plan Alpha is that I will get an interview at East Underwear and will get a place and live happily ever after.

Plan Beta is to move to the parentals in November and get a decent paying job which will set me up for the next four years, because I will re sit.

The next gamsat is in September, so I will sit that one. However, if a miracle happens and I get an interview then I will cancel that and put the flight + fee towards sitting the interview. If it doesn't, then I will go with what I'm doing.

It feels good to have a plan and to be accepting of what I'm doing and where I'm at. It's okay, you know?

And we will see my shadow

I didn't make it. I fucken failed on science again but this time by only one point.

Jeebus.

Try to be me

If I can explain my past mistakes away by explaining that I was young and dumb, which led me into these situations - does that mean that I am now mature and smart?

I'm not sure I can handle that.

Results tomorrow (so says the magic eight ball, so say I). One more night of pretending that I did extraordinarily well.

Sef u trenutku. Vjerujem u svemiru.

My dear friend SarahLou suggested that the reason that I have 33% body fat (as measure by an old man with hand tremors), is because I have a large rack. I like this.

Also, I have manflu. It is terrible, with horrid pressure in one of my sinuses and a terrible toothache all along one side of my jaw. Ugh.

Twidling my thumbs waiting for results release. Funny people on the forum are really stressing out about results release. One of them is going on and on about how it's just not fair that certain places have been released to people in the accelerated program, and how it's not fair that Grizzly University doesn't include GPA in their calculation because it just should. But only undergrad GPA. Le sigh. You can really tell that some people haven't been out in the world very much.

Winds of a broken heart

It's hard to realise that you are still caught with those old emotions. Facebook informed me that there was someone new who we had three friends in common, and the mere sight of her name sent burning hot streams of anger through me. I thought I was over hating her; I thought that she was nothing to me. I saw her name and I instantly reverted back to being that hurt 19 year old. I once told a friend of mine that if I saw her again, I wouldn't hesitate to punch her in the face.

I've done so much since she and her stupid ass boyfriend tried to destroy me, and yet I am not past it.

I guess it doesn't help that I joined a gym today and got told that I have 33% Body fat. Delightful.

Thank god I'm going to a party with many hot engineering boys tonight. I'm going to need it.

I didn't even say that

I've developed what can only be described as an annoying habit.....when someone fucks me off on the road, I pick up my phone/iTouch/camera and 'take' a picture of them. It seems to be working though. Damn rude other people.

Discovered today that there is now another university which I will be able to apply to (Grizzly University) as they have changed their GPA requirements. Hmm. The score for them is about halfway between Sandstone (i.e. stupidly high) and Underwear Universities, but is near my parents place, so freeish place to live!

Well, in a week I'll know if it was worth considering.

Play me a melody

It was a year ago that I was sat in an internet cafe in LA and discovered that I had not only passed, but had also gotten Second Class First Division Honours. Me? Hons? Suffice to say, I was stunned and I think that I scared more than one person in that cafe. It was a really good day too - I ended up going to Universal Studios to celebrate. I should get around to publishing that.

12 days until I find out the results. I wish I could stop dreaming about it - my dreams have a far too logical sequence. The latest one had me receiving an email from Supermarket Uni saying that my GPA was far too low (4.6) despite a good Gamsat, and I replied to say that it was ok, I was working on my time machine to go back and fix my fails. Ok, so that isn't so logical, but maybe dream me was making a funny?

All devices are loaded and ready to go. Documentation was sent to the printers this afternoon, and there is a meeting at the Pantry tomorrow afternoon to discuss playlists. Haven't heard from IS though, but that stress is waning because the lack of parental psychometrics is so much more serious.

Express the opinion

I smell like chocolate! In an effort to take better care of myself, I'm trying to use moisturiser after I shower - Vaseline Cocoa Butter. It's a little too yummy smelling, hopefully some of the sweetness with rub off on my personality.

*crickets*

Right. Well. Cocoa Butter!

Am still waiting on results, 13 days to go. What the hell am I going to do if I don't get a good score? What will I do next year? Will someone think of the children!!!

*crickets*

I so desperately want to tell my family but I can't. Not unless I get 68+.

I read someones blog of how they were surprised that psychosis patients can sometimes miss their voices - well of course they would, they've spent (years) months with that constant companion, why wouldn't they miss it even if they don't miss the content? It's like those people who are psychotic but the voices are flattering, so they don't seek help. Why would you want to, when voices are telling you how great you are?

American Cheese and Sheeps

I watched America's Next Top Model just now, and I am embarrassed for New Zealand. Oh the shame. They had a lacklustre haka performed at the top of Mt Eden (which also raises the question, why weren't they welcomed properly at a Marae?) and all over it was shameful.

Oh! The photoshoot was with a sheep. In the country. How the hell are we going to get rid of the sheep jokes again? Damn sheeps.

Which actually reminds me, a few weeks ago Toe and I were running up One Tree Hill and as we crossed the paddock to the start of Iguana track (yes, I know sheep paddocks in the middle of the city, haha, New Zealand is so backwards), all the sheep in the paddock started running away from us. Not just the ones near us, but from the back reaches of the paddock. They were really going for it, with this wild look to their eyes. Naturally, I freaked out because I didn't know what they were doing (and I'd just had a run in with a cow when I jumped over the stye). All of them ran to a certain point in the stone fence, where they jumped over, crossed the road and scrambled up the side of the the hill. Seriously. Naturally, we followed them, because we are sheep also. Cars on the road were stopped, and tourists were taking photos. It was so bizarre. Not a single sheep was left in the first paddock, they were all grazing at the beginning of iguana track. WTF? There was a few pieces of hay lying around, but it wasn't like there was any less in the first paddock. There was no farmer, and the (evil) cows stayed exactly where they were. I wish I'd have had the presence of mind to take video of it.

Of course, a couple of days later the sheep started sneezing everytime we walked passed them, and now Toe and I are convinced that sheep flu will be the next flu to hit us. Toe is convinced that one of them will answer to "Wonky Donkey" like "Minty" did last year.

That wasn't what I came here to post; I was so embarrassed of the portrayal of NZ in ANTM, that I wanted to show people some decent Kapa Haka/Powhiri. I couldn't really find anything I liked, I must put up some of my cousin's stuff on youtube. Here is so stuff that is good (ok, so I like Hosea Gear with his shirt off). Much, much better than the haka of ANTM:



Yes, they are saying that they will slit your throat. Rugby is war, this is a challenge.

And as always, I end up with Poi E

I need to find a good hiding spot

A major component of my work project (at the Pantry) has just screeched to a resounding halt. I can either hope to use some of the savings I made in my project budget to get a vodem stick, hire one from work and hope that the Pantry will pick it up, or dash down to Esquires and have a "coffee" and steal their wireless. We're supposed to go live in the next week, so I'm in a bit of a state.

Results are still too far away and too close. I was talking about this with a friend as we scrambled up the side of (n)one tree hill, and realised that even if I get a high enough score to get into Sandstone University*, I'm not sure that I'd take it. The large class and the things I've heard, scare me. I think I'd rather chance it with a interviewing school and then if I'm not successful, go with Sandstone next year. I think I'm leaning towards Underwear University* or Supermarket University* or Last Train University*, I have no idea of how I'd preference them and I know that I'd be happy in any of them as they all have small classes. So it's down to New but Far Away state vs Expensive city but Early Clinical Skills vs Early Patient Contact. Toe told me that I would get a 66, 69 and 72. I hope that she's right.

I've decided that I need to be more girly and take some pride in my appearance. To that end, I will get my ears repierced this weekend. Where does an (semi) adult get ears pierced? Do I go to a tattoo store or will a chemist do it? Questions to ponder.

*Yes, I know I've made up stupid names but some attempt at anonminity is better than none.

Writing the book

So much to say, so much not to say. It's everything, and it's nothing.

I sat the dreaded test last month; I'm numb on how I did. Took a rather large gamble and wrote a short story for Censorship and bathered about CBT/DBT and looking back to know how to move on and create self-esteem. I don't know. I want to know and the two and a half weeks still to go seem to stretch untenably too far away; I don't want to know, knowing the results is too concrete, I can't stare into the mirror of my failure again.

Dating tried, failed and put on hold until after the results. Descriptions of myself as the ice queen oddly pleasing but still, deep down, I feel like I ought to scream out how not sure of myself I am, how I want someone to break through, I just want someone to want me and for me to want him back.

Work is boring hell and yet (good) things keep happening - got highly competitive funding, have papers being written. It's still not enough for me. I want more, something else. Anything else. I did turn down a (possibly) more interesting role because they only offered $50k. Moves must be up, not parallel or down. Good friend "Toe" is away for two weeks, and I honestly don't know how I'm going to cope - I have so little contact with others now that I'm alone in my office. I was supposed to work in the dungeon today, I rocked up at 10:30 and was gone by 3. How much longer can I cope with this lack of direction and desire?

Curious that I seem to be teetering on the edge of something, reading that back. I don't know? Maybe? Trauma seems to be following me but I've moved on from mine. I need to get this work study out of the way and maybe it will go away?

I want to make promises to post regularly, but I don't know how often I can lay out that I did nothing all day. If you promise yourself to post semi-regularly, is that worthy? Maybe I'll just try to ease myself into it, and celebrate success. It might be nice to blog about my anxiety rather than garble it to my friends and family?