Filler

Time flies. It's almost annoying to often have to be on the edge to keep up.

Spent a week in Dunedin sometime late April. Totally enjoying the gloomy grey skies...

Highlight in Dunedin? Hatched the creepiest looking kiwi bird bought from a toy shop.

Headed back home to Auckland. Hello sunshine. Not for long though unfortunately... Wooly jumpers and scarves a few days later. 

Finally received my plum coloured stethoscope. Excuse a foot in the corner...

Did quite a bit of baking back up in Auckland:

Chocolate fudge.

Strawberries and cream sponge.

Chocolate fudge brownies.

Attended a cocktail party:

No.1 on High Street, Auckland.

Significant other was up in Auckland that weekend.

LOOKBOOK updates:

Malaysia GE13: Constipated

Fair, unjust, deserving, full of filthy tactics --whatever your perception is. Election results were out at midnight local Malaysian time. Next minute, my Facebook newsfeed is flooded with post-election posts. Sure you can be pro-government or pro-opposition and in fact, some are well written, well justified but some... the level of stupidity had me brandishing my arms at my laptop while exclaiming "what the???" 

"Bet it will be super awesome if Malaysia is still under the British Empire."

"If Malaysia is still ruled by the British, we will be just like Hong Kong and our currency will be bigger."

"I just lost my country. I don't feel like I belong anywhere now."

"Queen Elizabeth please take over Malaysia."

Excuse the vulgarity but there just isn't a better way to express my current state of mind. Years ago, you were demanding for independence and now, you want to chuck your country back to the British after all that effort to achieve independence --1956 Treaty of London etc. Super awesome under the British Empire? Sure, I love all my London Rebel shoes but now, really... is this some sort of white supremacy mindset? Having grown up in Malaysia, I'm sure Malaysia's capable of running the country. It's just a matter of the right people being in power.

Hong Kong dollar is worth more than the Malaysian Ringgit??? HONG KONG DOLLAR IS WORTH MORE THAN THE MALAYSIAN CURRENCY??? One Malaysian Ringgit buys 2.6 Hong Kong dollars.  Geezus! Do you even know about the political situation and socioeconomic status in Hong Kong to make such a sweeping comment? All that high rate of unemployment etc. Hong Kong dollar worth more than the Malaysian Ringgit...

Aside from that, there are more and more black squares as profile pictures on Facebook as a sign of support for the opposition. That's fine, everyone loves a good show of support and consolation but then all these self-shots dressed in black with peace finger signs, pouts start appearing and captioned "wearing black!" etc. start to spam my newsfeed. I swear this has became more of a join-in-with-the-high situation. 

Lost your country? Lost Malaysia to Malaysian politicians??? Lost Malaysia because the opposition Malaysian party is not governing the country??? Lost your country to what??? Geezus. That did not even make any sense.

Go ahead, mourn, rant, celebrate, debate, it's all about freedom of speech but freedom of speech does not translate rubbish. 

Geezus. I swear I have more than enough nonsensical posts for a day to digest. I'm getting constipated.

More To Disagree About II

Light. Photographed 2013.

"Do you support gay marriage?"

"I don't see a good enough reason not to."

The rejection of ideas and perceptions, all boils down to human judgements - almost reflexive at times. While busy preparing for tests, I became caught up and lost sense of contact with the larger world. I lost track of time that the debate about same sex marriage was happening that day. Anyway, long story short, the bill was passed and I started to hear these rejections of ideas and perceptions about same sex marriage. There was a great play of the religion card.

At a personal level and despite being Catholic, I couldn't help but feel that religion was not a good enough card to play in this debate. Sure enough there's all that biological reasoning their role in reproduction, which I obviously can't be not in a right state of mind to disagree with but God made man and then woman? I get the point, it's clear, God made man and woman, genitals and all. 

Then I wondered what if I or any woman, were to marry a man who has a history of homicide - raped and strangled his own mother, or if I were to marry a Christian woman who has strong moral values and principles. From knowledge, as Christians, we are suppose to forgive and forget but tell me, how are you, as a person capable of reasoning between right and wrong, able to live for the rest of your life -till death do you apart, with this person capable of such an inhuman act. And here some people are, saying same sex marriage is a sin.

If I were to marry that nice Christian woman, I would have sinned just because she's female too and  largely because the bible says so. Really? Is that the only criteria to judge that I have sinned - the action of dismissing gender similarities. It seems like it is fine and often encouraged to dismiss a lot of factors from looks to intelligence to physique but not that one factor, gender. Isn't it just another physical criteria? Now, don't even bother to start on hormones and  whatnot. 

There are a lot more out there that actually deserve the religion card to be played. Among all other sins such as killing, rape, adultery, greed, theft, I don't think marrying someone that you love is a sin. Again, don't even start about 'oh, are you saying you can marry your own brother or sister then??'. That would be a remarkably ridiculous rebuttal. 

Just a piece of my mind that the religion card does not play well here.

Leaves. Photographed 2013.

At a totally different level, I had a lecture this morning revolved around alternative medicine, religious believes and rituals concerning illness. They then received comparisons to placebos in contemporary medicine. 

I used to have that mindset about alternative medicine, that it was nothing more than just fairy dust and cocktails of random tree branches. Then when I started having recurring urticaria for weeks, on prednisolone, chlorphenamine and topical steroids three to five times a day, alternative medicine threw me a curve ball when my parents decided to try something different, something new - Chinese medicine. 

Rolled my eyes and muttered that it was going to be a complete waste of time, I found myself at this little shop with all these glass bottles-- almost like an apothecary. The shopkeeper was this old Chinese woman with snow-white hair pulled back into a bun at her nape, rudy cheeks and barely any wrinkles for someone her age. 

She took one look at me, rummaged around and came up with two bottles of some dark, viscous liquid and a packet of fine, white powder. "Pearl powder," she pointed. "Good for complexion," she added, stabbing a finger at the packet. "Eat this. Drink this. Two days and all this will go away." I recalled mentally rolling my eyes. There was no way this shit was going to work. I was certain.

Two days later... I woke up that morning to discover that my urticaria had completely cleared. My first thought was, "what sort of sorcery was that?!" Since then, I started keeping an open mind about alternative medicine.

Coming back to alternative medicine, religious believes and rituals with regards to illness, I disagree with the way they are likened to placebos. For instance, your GP prescribes you some "sugar pills" and you go away thinking and believing that you had just been prescribed some aspirin. You're certain that it will make your headache go away. In another scenario, you decide to do a cleansing ritual, thinking and believing that will help reduce your headache. 

I feel that the first involves deception. The GP knows for sure that those "sugar pills" are not going to work but has manipulated you into acknowledging the fact that you had received aspirin pills. The latter however, does not involve deception. Though both revolved around a core of believe, you don't know if it actually works or is merely a result of believe. That's because there isn't that same presence of certainty in the first place with that cleansing ritual unlike that certainty that "sugar pills" will not cure a headache. Hence, I don't see why alternative medicine ought to be likened to placebos. 

Update: More To Disagree About

Through the city. Photographed 2013.

"Medicine is my lawful wife, and literature is my mistress. When I get fed up with one, I spend the night with the other" - Anton Chekhov

Art would probably be my other love affair but right now after partially digesting too much information about 'fascinating' art... I think I've developed a different perspective about art. 

Rising sun. Photographed 2013.

I am finding it hard to understand what's art and what's not after all that exposure to different types of art in Art History. I appreciate, enjoy and understand pieces like a jaw-dropping mural in a cathedral or a macro shot of an old woman's hands but... this? 

I was shown that during a class discussion last week and I do not understand that piece of art. It's a piece by Hye Rim Lee. I mean sure enough the body is art and whatnot as they always say but isn't there a little bit more to art than just a frontal view of a breast? 

A friend of mine laughed when I told him about the stuff that I was learning in Art History and chortled, "you should have done Classics. It'll be more useful and relevant to medicine."

Well... it may have been more useful in the sense that I would know about how medicine came about and so forth. Then again, I like the idea that Art History is giving me more to disagree about.

Study mate. 2013.

Anyway, I thought I ought to introduce my new study mate. From what medical school has taught me and preparations for three mid semester tests next week... I believe it's a she?

Midsemester break starts next weekend. I can't wait. Once again, flying down to Dunedin.

LOOKBOOK updates:

Jumper: Valleygirl
Dress: Polo
Flats: Clarks
Bag: Jansport

Jumper: Forever 21
Shirt: Factorie
Skinnies: H&M
Flats: Wildpair

Cardigan: Zara
Top: Valleygirl
Skinnes: Levi's
Boots: Wildpair
Bag: Country Hide 

Top: Factorie
Skinnies: Levi's
Flats: London Rebel
Bag: Cambridge Satchel
Shades: Ray-ban
Ear cuff: Jayjay's

Update: Hangars & Med School

Puppies. Auckland. 2013

Four days of Easter break went by... somewhat unproductively. Check, check, check and check. I've submitted my medical humanties Art History essay, gave my Art History seminar, finally refilled my printer cartridge after five months and after almost a year of procrastination - booked an appointment and received a HPV vaccination after a traumatizing HPV/cervical cancer lecture. Being in medical school stirs paranoia. One jab costs almost NZ$200.00 and... two more jabs to go. My bank account...

I assumed that all vaccinations were covered by my insurance plan but apparently, HPV and any sexual health related issues were not. A whack on the head and some common sense jolted... obviously that was so or oral contraceptives etc. would be dished out for free. Ugh still... NZ$600...

Anyway, three tests next week... not looking forward to Monday at all... Yesterday, a failed attempt to spend the night studying was encountered. I fell asleep attempting to memorize hormone functions. Albeit a good sleep from 8.30pm until 7.00am I must say. Though I did had a weird dream being in an airbus A380 that had collapsible wings which were replaced with midget wings the size of traffic cones during landing into a hangar. 

A homecooked meal. Auckland. 2013.

Significant other came up from Dunedin for a week during Easter break. So much food - to be more precise, so much meat involved. Probably enough meat to last me for half a year. I'm currently recuperating from all that meat. Nothing but vegetables and eggs in my refrigerator.

Food overload. Auckland. 2013

Just so...much...meat. There's that particular night when a Domino's delivery showed up with our order, a Hawaiian BBQ chicken pizza except that all the chicken was missing. I'm not certain if that was a good or bad thing...

LOOKBOOK UPDATE: That Jacket

"Here in Rome" : That Street

Scrawls on a typepad. Scrawled 2013.

"Geezus! I told you to take a photograph with me in it! Get it right!!!"

I was on the streets in Rome, cobblestones under my feet and a stone arch behind me. There was a soft, warm golden glow from the morning sun over Rome's aged architecture. On my left, there were rows of cafe tables. I could see classic white plates with breakfast toast, Portabello mushrooms and bacon rinds. There was an old man with a bed of white hair in a blue cardigan with a well-starched shirt, happily having breakfast with his wife. On their table, sat cups of steaming black coffee. 

One Saturday morning. Auckland. 2013.

In the midst of photographing the streets of Rome for a project and I decided I wanted a self-portrait with that particular stone arch in the background. I stopped a random passerby on the streets and asked her if she could do me a favour. Young, fair skinned with jet black hair and delicate features, she nodded, agreeing to take a photograph for me. 

Unfortunately, that was one simple task that she couldn't seem to accomplish. She could never seem to aim the camera in the right direction despite multiple attempts. Gradually, I began to lose my patience.

Fine arts. Photographed 2013.

... and I woke up. An annoying way to wake up from an annoying dream. Probably an aftermath of all that Renaissance art research for a Medical Humanities course essay that I'm currently trying to complete. So much italian in a week. 

Jar of coins. Photographed 2013.

 On the side note, a Europe trip hopefully after two to three years of saving.

LOOKBOOK UPDATE:

"I didn't put it there."

One morning. Auckland. Photographed 2013.

When the Good Lord was creating mothers, He was into His sixth day of "overtime" when the angel appeared and said. "You're doing a lot of fiddling around on this one." 

And God said, "Have you read the specs on this order? She has to be completely washable, but not plastic. Have 180 moveable parts...all replaceable. Run on black coffee and leftovers. Have a lap that disappears when she stands up. A kiss that can cure anything from a broken leg to a disappointed love affair. And six pairs of hands." 

The angel shook her head slowly and said. "Six pairs of hands.... no way." 

"It's not the hands that are causing me problems," God remarked, "it's the three pairs of eyes that mothers have to have." 

"That's on the standard model?" asked the angel. God nodded. 

"One pair that sees through closed doors when she asks, 'What are you kids doing in there?' when she already knows. Another here in the back of her head that sees what she shouldn't but what she has to know, and of course the ones here in front that can look at a child when he goofs up and say. 'I understand and I love you' without so much as uttering a word." 

"God," said the angel touching his sleeve gently, "Get some rest tomorrow...." 

"I can't," said God, "I'm so close to creating something so close to myself. Already I have one who heals herself when she is sick...can feed a family of six on one pound of hamburger...and can get a nine year old to stand under a shower." 

The angel circled the model of a mother very slowly. "It's too soft," she sighed. 

"But tough!" said God excitedly. "You can imagine what this mother can do or endure." 

"Can it think?" 

"Not only can it think, but it can reason and compromise," said the Creator. 

Finally, the angel bent over and ran her finger across the cheek. 

"There's a leak," she pronounced. "I told You that You were trying to put too much into this model." 

"It's not a leak," said the Lord, "It's a tear." 

"What's it for?" 

"It's for joy, sadness, disappointment, pain, loneliness, and pride." 

"You are a genius, " said the angel. 

Somberly, God said, "I didn't put it there.” 

― Erma Bombeck, When God Created Mothers