Just a reminder:

If you talk to God, you are praying; if God talks to you, you have schizophrenia.

So, be careful !!

(I just thought Les Trois needed an update!)

.:.Meddie That Lives In Her Own Made-Up-By-Her-Brain World.:.

Published in: on August 27, 2006 at 1:53 pm  Leave a Comment  

Of Garments and Recollections

“Clearing our closets of past incarnations provides the space and freedom for us to choose clothing in the future that authentically reflects the women we are becoming.”

-Sarah Ban Breathnach-

Three weeks until I fly off to the land of tartan-clad men, and until then, I solemnly pledge to be a full-time bum; owl-eyed at 3a.m., breakfast at noon, sinfully munching homemade chocolate chip cookies on the couch…the works. 

But it ain’t always flourescent lights, TV surfing and barefoot trips to the kitchen. Yesterday, in a brazen attempt to rediscover an uncluttered life, I spring cleaned my closet. I started out with a self-invented rule: if it wasn’t designer and I haven’t worn it for 6 months, donate them – a simple principle to digest. So I dedicated a huge paper bag for stockpiling the clothes bound for charity. 

It wasn’t long into my escapade (well, 3 and a half piles of clothes later) when I realized that the paper bag was empty. Nil. Something had to be done; I rolled up my sleeves and reexamined each piece. Not a single one of them were designer. So why was I hanging on to these garments? 

I lifted a silk cream and brown chiffon piece, with petite floral prints – a blouse in which I practically lived in all through my preclinical years in IMU. When paired with my favourite brown tudung, I glowed with confidence from within because it made me feel gorgeous. I loved it then, and I still love it now.  

Next came a bright orange, frilly, Hawaian wraparound skirt. It brought back recollections of my fabulous A-levels biology class trip to Pulau Pangkor – kicking sand, hiking through the jungle collecting specimens and stargazing with friends at the cloudless night sky. Ahh, my carefree days of being a clueless brainy youth prancing around with a bunch of test tubes… 

My hand reached out for a well-worn, cotton, dark blue shirt, with a white angel printed on the front – my high school class t-shirt. How can I forget fond memories of lunches in that particular corner in my school hall, songs about how we met “____ under the sea”, gossips and girly gigles, and crushes on danial?

That evening morphed into a sentimental trip down memory lane. The whole process was symbolic; honouring my past, letting go of past regrets (I still can’t believe I wore those uegh-ly pants), and looking forward to a bountiful future. Pretty relevant to the phase of life I’m going through right now.  

So as I close the doors to my spruced-up closet, an overwhelming sense of hope engulfs me; akin to a spirited traveler about to begin a journey. Feelings never lie – this was no doubt the beginning of something new. 

Mademoiselle Aliaa.

Published in: on August 11, 2006 at 3:44 am  Leave a Comment  

On Friendship

And a youth said, “Speak to us of Friendship.”

Your friend is your needs answered.

He is your field which you sow with love and reap with thanksgiving.

And he is your board and your fireside.

For you come to him with your hunger, and you seek him for peace.

When your friend speaks his mind you fear not the “nay” in your own mind, nor do you withhold the “ay.”

And when he is silent your heart ceases not to listen to his heart;

For without words, in friendship, all thoughts, all desires, all expectations are born and shared, with joy that is unacclaimed.

When you part from your friend, you grieve not;

For that which you love most in him may be clearer in his absence, as the mountain to the climber is clearer from the plain.

And let there be no purpose in friendship save the deepening of the spirit.

For love that seeks aught but the disclosure of its own mystery is not love but a net cast forth: and only the unprofitable is caught.

And let your best be for your friend.

If he must know the ebb of your tide, let him know its flood also.

For what is your friend that you should seek him with hours to kill?

Seek him always with hours to live.

For it is his to fill your need, but not your emptiness.

And in the sweetness of friendship let there be laughter, and sharing of pleasures.

For in the dew of little things the heart finds its morning and is refreshed.

“The Prophet”, Kahlil Gibran.

(One of the most beautiful writings I have ever read – inspiring and touches the hearts of anyone who reads it).

Published in: on August 4, 2006 at 7:35 am  Leave a Comment  

I reckon it’s time for a quick update!

We’re obviously very busy people.

I’m busy attending to err..some very colourful people and don’t even have time to sleep.Okay, scratch that. I’m a chronic insomniac and my sleeping habits have always been blergh. But yeah, psychiatry is very enjoyable though I don’t think I want to make it as a career. It’s very subjective and I prefer things to be in black and white but it’s still a very interesting field!

After nearly one month of no news, we’ve finally track down (or is it tracked down?? is there a past tense for ‘track’?) meddie number 2. It seems her email addy’s gone haywire so she didn’t receive any news about our fantastic project. Hopefully after this we’ll hear some news from her!

Mad Meddie and Musician Maestro in Newcastle 2006

Two gorgeous girls in a gorgeous part of Australia. 

I need another holiday!!!

(I just realised I’m a whinger! Hahaha)

Till next time,

.:. студент-медика .:.

Published in: on August 4, 2006 at 7:17 am  Leave a Comment