Hello? Anyone here? I've been spending the last week trying to write a post - and by "trying" I mean opening the post editor everyday and realising after writing two words that there were other matters of life and death (mostly death) which I required my attention a lot more urgently than my blog. I am currently stuck with another 3 more weeks of the Surgery Posting from Hell - and with Satan himself as His Royal Unholiness the Infernal Head of Department. Imagine spending everyday exposed to the danger of being stuck in the same room as an old guy that's about a head taller than you are who hollers right in your face, calling you a "bloody fool", "donkey", "stupid" or other such colourful names, over every tiniest mistake, every minuscule slip of the tongue you make (in your grasp of surgical concepts and even more often, your grammar).
So far, all 4 groups currently in posted in Surgery have been banned from the wards till further notice after a particularly nasty episode of shouting on the Prof's part in front of the patients. Actually, he can be quite funny when his laserz aren't turned on you but not many people can truly escape his rages. I, along with a few others, have yet to perform any piece of stupidity worthy of him personally sending us out of the class or ward but that didn't stop us from being covered under the ban as well (apparently, it's our fault too for not making sure that every member of our group is completely perfect at History Taking and at General and Systemic Examination of Patient). In my opinion, the standard at which we were performing would no doubt receive much kudos from the lecturers back in Manipal, India. It's a whole new ballpark here. Oh, even when it was him who banned us from the wards, we're still considered absent from class. Good luck making up for the 90% minimum attendance now.
I can tell you that I have never been this stressed out in my life - not even when I faced that two major University Exams back in India (I pretty much studied one night before each paper and yes, I'm allowed to brag about it). And the less I say about my borderline suicidal behaviour when it came to the SPM and my A-Levels, the better (2 hours before each paper, by the way). Now, I'm studying everyday (yes! believe it!) just to avoid being roasted alive by the Prof. That guy certainly put me in a religious mood - I pray fervently everyday now.
I am happy to report that I still managed to do a bit of leisure reading these days. I finished The Blade Itself and Before They Are Hanged by Joe Abercrombie just last week and I'm halfway through John Crowley's Little, Big and occasionally thumbing a short story from an anthology of H. P. Lovecraft cosmic horror tales I bought in Chennai. Tomorrow, I'm looking to catch the movie adaptation of Max Payne at the cineplex with Shaki and whoever else who wants to tag along. Viva la vida, people.
Before I sign off, let me just say this to all the girl readers I have,
If you don't know how to wear high heels; don't. Not even for balls or proms or any swanky wingdings. There's a reason why people had to go through months at a finishing school just to learn how to do it; and that reason is so they don't walk like friggin' velociraptors in the damn stilletos. Yes, high heels give the optical illusion of a longer, slimmer leg, a smaller foot, and a greater overall height - not to mention altering the wearer's posture and gait, flexing the calf muscles, and making the bust and buttocks more prominent - but that's not happening when you're stumbling around like you have brain cancer.
I also have some beef about girls wearing bareback dresses and blouses, but failing to correct their postures for these sort of clothes. Why on God's green earth are you ladies hunching your shoulders and backs for? To push your boobs together so they'd look bigger? To make up for a non-existent cleavage? What? It's just going to make your back look enormous and FAT, you know. All I could see are acres and acres of man-type back. Totally not sexy, girls.
We need a revival of finishing schools to stop girls from failing at sexiness.
That is all. I needed that off my chest. I will write you guys again this weekend.