Arteries and Veins

You know, just when I start to get disillusioned by the amount of cramming required of medical students I pause for a moment to reflect on the sheer beauty of the human body. It's absolutely incredible. It's truly stunning. It is an utter privilege to find out how it works, what goes wrong and how to fix it. Simply put - revitalising. Back to work.
My parents are busy cooking...I'm being loved. It's nice to be loved. I like being loved. Indeed, I do. I'm a little baby all over again, short of having to wear diapers and take afternoon naps - although that wouldn't be too bad, methinks...we get to do that one day when we're old and need stoma-bags after total colectomies. The naps are just pure pleasure, though.

Happiness

Have been informed that my blog is pretentious - I shall edit henceforth and make amends. Apologies to those who find/found it so. I write for myself - readership is a blessing, but a byproduct nonetheless.
My parents are visiting me.
I have bought a guitar, Lina, a lovely cream coloured beauty dressed in black.
Going to see Mr Mandelson this week with Rashod.
Finally recovered from a week-long cold. Feeling fine. Hopefully my first waterpolo experience tomorrow night shan't be too unnerving...
Have been coming up with all sorts of crazy ideas lately - 'inventions' and business plans...
Broadband is a wonderful, wonderful thing!
Pharmacology, however, is not.
Latest point to ponder - can other people detect emotion in my voice/mannerisms quite easily? I know I don't exactly have a poker face, but surely I'm a little more adept at hiding some things? Perhaps they are apparent to those who know me quite well/haven't seen me in quite a while. Oh well...
How life changes. How it changes, indeed.

Dim Alcoves, Dark Streets, Drunks and Drowning

Much has happened since last I wrote. My respect for Mr Lewis's prose grows with each passing day.
Nearly drowned on Tuesday. In the shallow end. Of a swimming pool.
Oh hilarity - on my way home last night a fantastically drunk Australian decided to hold a public conversation with 'Miguel,' the unfortunate (but very tolerant) Spanish chap sitting opposite. Utterly ridiculous, but incredibly entertaining nonetheless.
It's rather intimidating walking home late at night, swinging my umbrella and whistling in the dark.
It's an eerie feeling, but somewhat calming to sit with one's back to the floodlit hospital sign beamed through the window behind, a dim fluorescent light illuminating the carrell-desk before me and not a single soul around. Transcendental, almost. An incubator for pusillanimity, with the warm darkness from the pit below and a ring of light above in my own sheltered sanctuary, surrounded only by my own thoughts and faint imaginings. Not that they conspire to overthrow me - the opprobium of insanity is too far gone for that, now...
I tire, to change a spare would only count the pennies when the pounds can't quite feed tomorrow. Alas. Courage, for tomorrow.

Joy

I thought this was a rather inspiring book. I feel like someone has some empathy for me, no matter how impersonally it streams from the pages of a book. In fact, impersonal it is not - I am most certainly touched. Somehow.
Surprised by Joy, C.S. Lewis.
Shared experiences and thoughts? A childhood of thinking beyond lost thoughts? I don't claim to know, but I certainly feel a bond.

Tickets for British Midland Airlines flights 19-25

There are too many fat people. Australia, the UK and ('duh') the USA are facing an obesity epidemic. The fatties are taking over. Apparently the world is full of them, and we're not careful they shall slow down the planet's rotation. The earth will wobble on its axis like an overweight child jumping on a pogo-stick before unbalancing itself and spinning wildly out of control. The only question is...where are these fat people? I see some of them on the roads, pancaked by trucks which don't weight much more than them. Occasionally a jellified human mass will pass in front of me in the cinema. However, surely we ought to see more of these whale-men/women on the streets, judging by the proportion reported as 'overweight'? Surely they can't all be hiding in their hollowed out armchairs, gulping frothy beer from oversized cans in basements with temperatures optimised for adipocyte growth? Where are they? The streets should be lined with human beings wider than the back of a wide-goods vehicle, broader than the brim of a large buckets of congealed lard waiting to splash over the unwary bystanders unfortunate enough to brush past them. Where are they? Some people are unable to lose weight - leptin deficiency. They happen to number in the dozens (out of approximately 6 billion human beings). Thank goodness for the conservation of mass - I'd just started to wonder where all the burgers went.
By the way: BMI 19-25 is ideal, in case you're wondering about the title.

Night Cogs are spinning...

All sorts of lovely people seem to visit this hallowed ground, a shrine overlooking the dark cesspit of my mind. Oh well.
I'm wondering whether the law is interesting enough to warrant a little 'ground-shifting'... it might be somewhat difficult to justify. Probably just a passing phase.
By which barometer do you measure your aspirations and afflictions? Supposedly a dash of stress is good - it reinforces coping mechanisms etc.
I'm trying to be more human. It's difficult, but the goblin nature seems to creep out rather often. The psychology lectures certainly aren't helping - my pseudo-hypochondriac self is suddenly facing assault by a myriad of possible categories of explanations for my little idiosyncrasies. Perhaps that's what they are, then - idiosyncrasies. No psychopathy, no obsessive-compulsive behaviour, no Type A personality disorder. Pure and simple idiosyncrasies that can be attributed to any normal functioning human being. Hurrah. Now I'm in denial!

Dr Frank Tuller and Sisters

I feel reasonably inspired. A career in bioweaponry suddenly seems to beckon.
The world seems to have finally slipped into that stage of dispassionate 'unconcern' if such can be said about the Asian Tsunami. Tsk.
I find it difficult to the goalposts at the moment and dark have been my dreams of late...several things seem to be impinging on my sense of sanity and I need to rest on a nice cushy bursa for a brief while. Too many issues from too many angles make my head spin. Methinks (and methinks I tend to abuse this kind, tender word) that it is time for the simpler approach - a sharp rap across the knuckles and a knuckling down between the desk and chair.
Food, in generous portions is always a nice thing to think about. A kind distraction from an inescapable fate. Eat, drink and be merry.