That is the question. Now, two more topics of surgery before I acknowledge the fact that nothing really went into my head. The medicine lecture notes are so bloody abbreviated that I feel like setting it on fire. What the fark is a RDW? Something to do with hematology one okay.. Something to do with the differential diagnosis of microcytic anemia. If any other med or dental students out there knows, help. Granted, I didn’t bother to google it.;\
I was thinking of completing my studies for the night by 4am(which is so not happening, it’s a quarter past 3am 🙁 ) and then photoshopping the photos that I have piled up to, of course, be put on this blog. Where else?
It’s also during the exam season when I would look at the things in my room. I was looking at my puncher, pencil box keychain and iPod. I then turned around to stare at my photoframes and then wasted a few more minutes admiring my earrings collection before this gem of an idea came to me. I always like to see how far I can go with my noobish photoshopping skills and how cute would it be if I can photoshop photos of me sitting on the pile of staplers, hanging from an earring(oh the irony!) or squatting down on my notes, staring cock at it. Maybe peeking out of the empty box of Strawberry Rocky Biscuits? Or standing next to my alarm clock, crossing my arm, disdain at how time flies.
I will do that after the exams. Hahaha. Heed the words of a woman in the throes of pre-exam tension. I know throes is used for when describing a woman going crazy during sex. I just want to play around with words that I don’t know how to use. 🙁 I is so pitiful. I actually harbour secret ambitions in wanting to become a writer. I want to write a novel one day. But I know that I cannot write. Yes, you have been fooled. These words here and sometimes in the newspapers are, I have to say, not very good. At least they are to me. I want to flow with beautiful melodious descriptions and paint illustrious images with mere words alone. So difficult.
I’ve actually derived my first storyline eons ago. And it sort of further developed when I watched TVB’s Maiden’s Vow. And also when my Great Grand Uncle jokingly said that he should write an autobiography of my mum’s side of the family. Five great grandmothers, anyone? Great grand Dad came to China when he was 13 years old to work as a cook. He was so short that he had to use a stool to do his cooking. Yeah, same dude who married five wives because he wanted sons. Only the fifth great grand mother(the one that I’m related to by blood) gave him his first son. Alas, the boy fell to his death at the age of three from the dining table. No wonder we’re not allowed to play on the dining table as kids. I enjoyed climbing on to the dining table with my brother because it was so high above the ground!
Anyway, as every large family would, we had delicious scandals! Stories that I can only ever tell behind an anonymous pseudonym. But muka-loving people like me will never write a book as an anonymous writer. Pfft! Imagine all the fame that I’m giving it up for..and all the chances that I can camwhore with my book in every consequent blog post! No! Hahaha..Joking, joking.
So as I was saying, yeah, great grand father eked out a living by trading pigs and selling pork porridge. For a family of *scribbles 5+14+random maids* 20 over people. And most of them went to university too! This is my grand parents time we’re talking about. Pigs must’ve been in fashion.
Argh I’m digressing. See, that’s why I’ll never make a good writer. Back to how I was talking about a storyline I had eons ago. I can’t remember who’s idea was it but Mel and I wanted to come up with a book called “Grandfather Stories”. Clearly, I can’t go digging for more grandfather or grandmother stories because three of my grandparents have passed on. The remaining grandmother does have her fair share of stories like pretending to be a boy during the Japanese occupation but that’s about it, nothing much to tell about growing up at the Malacca General Hospital where her mum was a mid-wife.
Stories like how my grandfather’s grandfather smoked away the family’s tin-mining business(but third generation rule, I wouldn’t be able to enjoy any of that anyway! Um, not that I’m not living a more than comfortable life now, *looks at dad guiltily*) or how he was occasionally beaten by his uncle while his mother, being a widowed single mum, worked as a servant for a rich family or my grandmother(the one who passed away) who apparently hid upstairs in a shop lot in Penang for two years because the Queen of Siam was looking for her. According to her, her father was a dance instructor and frequently traveled up to Thailand to teach the Queen how to dance. ACCORDING to her, the queen and my great grand father…..I’ll innocently say and to avoid a war between Malaysia and Thailand….fell in love. So upon the death of my great grand mother, the Queen demanded that they bring my grandmother to her for she was the splitting image of her dead father, a man whom she er, (I suppose only ar! I love Bangkok! Shopping so nice! Don’t kill me!), fell for or had fun with or whatever.
But then again, my grandmother has been known to sprinkle hypertension inducing salt and pepper to her stories. 🙂 We’ve always loved the Siam Queen story the most though it definitely sounds fictional. But damn, what a good addition to the book that Mel and I wanted to write! Today, another version of the title came to me(yaya, it’s the stupid exam doing its thing again): “Grandfather Stories – And a Little Bit More. Just like how Grand dad likes it.”
Oh then the love story between her sister and a postman? Sigh. They are still married to this day by the way. My grandmother being the more literate one, was forced by her sister to write love letters to the postman. She and her younger sister would giggle at the postman’s reply and her older sister would snatch back the love letter in anger.
So many tales!:) And the inspiration from Maiden’s Vow is a tale of four generation of women. Each fighting to be with the…wait for it….love of their lives! Each….wait for it..tale as heartbreaking as the next! Damn melodrama lah but I loved it! I wanted to do one copy cat version but of women in Malaysia as opposed to the Hong Kong women theme.
…Oh, then what else did I want to do ar while being stuck studying for the exams…
OH YAH! Mun Teng told me her brilliant idea about wanting to go check out some wholesalers around Pudu. Apparently there are nice clothes there to look see. It’s one of those places where you have to buy all sizes of that particular top or all colours of that particular size. Yalah, it’s like one of those blogs that you see dotting the whole internet trying to sell clothes online. At first I thought it was a good idea because almost all the blogs I’ve come across, clothes are really SOLD out. The market must be big enough for everyone. Every girl loves to shop right?
We’re not sure lah, just thinking if we should get our hands wet a bit. Like if we like something and are forced to buy the variants, then maybe put it up on my blog and see if any of you girls are interested to take some off our hands(money would be involved lah. haha u think I santa claus meh).
But one thing though, besides Shopaholics(I love you Leng! Forever!), I realized that a lot of these shopping blogs don’t really sell shoes. Shoes are so much easier to sell than clothes! As in, the chances that someone fitting into shoes is definitely higher than fitting into clothes that are purchased online.
I was over at Yuyugo.com and according to the size chart, my boobs are bigger than their L size. 92cm is the maximum chest size. A quick google on metric conversions and I found out what 92cm in inches was. Oh god. WHY WHY WHY. It’s not so much the boobs, it’s the fucking trunk. Like a bloody tree. More than 92cm. Hm, this means that if you do a cross section of my chest, and remove the skin in a clean sheet…. cut the middle, the entire length will be 1 metre or more. That’s freaky.
Angered by the discrimination against big boned women, I went to Malaysianbabes.net to see if anybody knows of any good shopping blogs catering to plus size women. And get this, they can only come up with names like Ms. Read and Dorothy Perkins. Tell me something I DON’T already know. And those brands usually cater to the older crowd. Mehhh. My youth! My youth!!
Okay, enough crapping. So happy to ramble at 4am. Good night everyone! You go to sleep while I attempt to study Fluids and Electrolytes.