Massive update & food poisoning
Wednesday, August 11, 2010
Okay, so this post turned out way longer than expected. And when I say long, I mean LONG. So you have been warned. So if you have some spare time or you're trying to procrastinate, but can't find anything to do, and you're feeling stalkerish or curious about whats been going on in my life, then enjoy reading this nonsensical rambling of gibberish.
Everyone is going to eventually hurt you in the end, whether it be some stupid, vengeful clown at a circus who 'accidentally' whacked you with his balloon pumper for not buying any of his animal balloons or the chef who cooked up your beef pho at Pho 76 in Green Valley yesterday and gave you food poisoning. I know that Bob Marley says you just have to find the ones worth suffering for, and the ones worth suffering for are usually the people you love. But sometimes suffering is just inevitable.
Take my food poisoning example, for example. The chef indirectly hurts you, but he isn't worth suffering for, right? Doesn't mean that you won't suffer though. You get abdominal pain, you lose your appetite, you sweat like crazy. You go to sleep early so that you won't feel the pain, but you keep waking up every 2 hours wanting to vomit and yet nothing comes out. Your stomach area keeps hurting and you're just so tired from being interrupted in your sleep.
Then at 4am in the morning, you wake up from the pain and feel like you need to vomit, like every other time. This time, it actually happens and next thing you know, you're leaning over the toilet bowl spewing your guts out. You see slimy, disgusting, mongulated forms of the meat and noodles you ate from pho the day before and at this point, you're thinking 'Fuck you, Mr. Chef-man-who-made-my-pho-and-gave-me-bad-meat'.
You finally get some good hours of sleep, only to wake up early for uni. You head to the bathroom, then everything starts spinning, and your head starts throbbing. You sit down on the floor, your mum asks you whats wrong, but you can barely hear her words. Everything looks blurry and your mum sounds like she's talking from afar. You're just about to lapse into unconsciousness, but then your mum starts to gently shake you and gives you water. But you're already deemed unfit to go to uni that day, especially since its 6 intense hours of tutorials and lectures non-stop. So now you have a lot of catching up to do, since it was your most important uni day of the week and waking up early was pointless. And now you're stinking like that green asian healing oil thing. All this suffering just because of a case of bad, bacterial-infected meat.
Moral of the story is that you cannot trust that some people will not hurt you, even if they have always been trusting and reliable. It's the people who you care about most who will disappoint you the most. Nah, the actual take home message from this story is that pho is dangerous.
Apologies for the negativeness- this nausea is getting to me. And I'm pretty sure I contradicted myself at the end of the story and changed the original point I was trying to make, but whatever. Nausea's fault.
While I was suffering through this, all I could think of was the day that I found out I made it to Hurlstone. It was one week into year 11, on a Monday and I had noodles for lunch. I felt really queesy on the way home and I remember coming home to my dad, smiling so widely at me that I thought his teeth were about to fall off. He then says "I have some news to tell you" right before I ran to the bathroom to throw up. Within moments, my brother ran to the other bathroom to throw up, so we concluded it was definity the noodles we brought from home to have for lunch that gave us the food poisoning. I then ask my dad what the good news was, then he tells me that he'll tell me later when I'm feeling better.
I immediately think that I got into Hurlstone because there was absoloutely no other reason why my dad would be so happy about me and know that it would make me distraughted that he had to tell me when I was in a better mood. I raided the area where our letters are kept and didn't find anything. Eventually, my dad told me that they called and told me to come in for the interview the next day and to sign out of my current school. That was a horrible day for me, mainly because I was feeling sick added to the fact that I never wanted to go to Hurlstone before and had to try out because of my parents.
Looking back now, I have no regrets (not like I had a choice anyway lol). It seemed like such a big deal at the time, but when you put it simply, I just moved schools. The atmosphere was lovely and it turned out to be a pretty good change of environment for me (even the cow poo smell that hits you when you enter the gates...loljk). What I was mainly worried about at the time was that I was going to lose the friendships I had from Macfields and that I would miss that school too much. Some friendships were lost and I did miss Macfields heaps, but I'm also glad that a lot were retained and it just goes to show you which friendships ended up being more important to you. Not that I'm saying the ones I lost weren't worth keeping. (Then what are you trying to say, Belinda?) But anyway, I guess you gotta sacrifice some things when there's a change in your life.
I met people at Hurlstone, some who have become my closest friends now, so I genuinely have to say that for me, the change was for the better. I kept old friends, plus I made more. And I didn't realise how sloppy and corny-like this post has turned out to be until now. Ahem..
Moving on, update on the daily happenings of my boring life. My uni timetable this semester is pretty good: 4 days a week with fridays off. Not as good as last semester, but my subjects are actually more relevant and practical now.
For anatomy pracs, we get to work with cadavers (dead human body parts and limbs) and although they reek of chemical odour for being preserved in some preserving liquid thing for so long, its way better than the pH testing pracs I had last semester in bio. I'm pretty desensitised to the cadevers cos its just muscle and bone bundled up together (the skin has worn off), but the fingernails and toenails still gross me out. They're long and yellow and zomg. I can't describe them; you'd have to see them to get what I mean.
Some of my other subjects aren't that pointless anymore as well. In one of my tutorials, we're learning how to make all these types of equipment, like hand/arm splints and orthotics. It may sound boring, but it's actually pretty fun. Lots of sketching, cutting, carving, molding, liquidfying. Reminds me of year 10 art.
Speaking of art, I haven't done anything artsy in a very long time, ever since I dropped art mid year 12. I promised myself that I would complete my half-completed major work by the end of this year. That's looking kind of bleak at the moment. I had also planned to get my Ps by the end of this year too. Hopefully, that will work out because not being able to drive is placing so many restrictions on me.
Anywho, I think I shall end it here before I bore you with more random thoughts. Kudos to those who made it this far. If you didn't get this far, then you wouldn't be reading this and you just saved yourselves a lot of time and I completely understand..... and go screw yourselves for disregarding my heartfelt ramble. I'm kidding.
Whew, that was long. I'm off to get me some food, if you can call congee real food.
Have a good night, guys!
Labels: friends, life, sick, university
