Quirky London Details #2 & #3
The following photo is not really a London detail (excuse my just-woken-up hair, clothes and expression), but I just HAD to show you my lovely, and so extremely true mug, hehehehe!
The Uncertainty Principles
Anyway, so ideally, I wanted to rent a room with students or young people my age that not only live in the same space, but also interact together and do things together. Especially because I don't know many people in London, it would be great to have good relationships with people that I live with, so I could call it a home. Sounds simple and great, right? But it has been so freaking hard to find a house/flateshare with people my age that interact together. 99% of the places I've looked at have been shared with old people in their mid-late 20s who don't interact with each other. I can't understand why people living together don't do things together with each other! Yesterday there was a house in Fulham which was the first house with young people who actually play with each other, but unfortunately the rent was too high for me.
I eventually accepted to rent a room located in Paddington. It's the IDEAL location, with great transportations, and the room is a cozy, good standard room with no (visible) mice and stuff. The other people living in the flat seem ok. They are a little older, but they seem to be somewhat social, so hopefully I'll get to know them and we'll do things together.
I'm feeling scared to move out of my friend's place. I'm scared to face the uncertainty principles - will I get along with my flatemates? Will I feel at home in the flat with the people? Or will I feel lonely and regret accepting the room? My friend and his flat have been my safe haven and family in this foreign city for the last three weeks, will I miss it so much that I'll be homesick in my new room? I feel so safe, secure and well taken care of here, I don't want to give all that up. But I need to look at this from the opposite point of view: this is my chance to become truly independent, what I partly came to London for, so I need to be brave.
I'm planning to move out tomorrow. Holy shit.
Quirky London Details #1
London is one of those places where you just HAVE to bring your camera with you everywhere you go. That is the ultimate lesson I have learned from my stay here so far. Otherwise you are guaranteed to end up slapping your forehead, and regretting to hell the fact that you didn't spend that extra 5 seconds to take your shoes off and walk into the room again to reach out for your camera. The reason being that there are so many weird and funny and quirky details about London that are just cool and awesome and completely random. So I've decided to take my camera with me everywhere I go, and capture these quirky details I witness.
I'm going to start uploading pictures, and today I will begin my Quirky London Details Series with a photo of some rubbish bins in the middle of central London that were painted as a herd of cattle!
The Ultimate List
Things I absolutely love:
1. Cheap bananas!
2. Camden Town
3. So many great musicals, although I haven't watched any because they are far too expensive for my wallet
4. London Underground (a love-hate relationship [see #4 below], how would we travel anywhere without it, the bus system is out of question unless you intentionally want to get late)
5. Urban Outfitters, gosh I could live in there!
6. So many yummy food places (also a bad thing, see #7 below)
7. The contrasts of the city, in terms of the architecture, people, culture, general atmosphere, which is probably the thing I love about London the most
8. The vastness of the city, you can drive and drive in the city (except not literally drive and drive, more like drive and stoooooop, and drive, and stuck, oh how lovely London traffic flows), and the city seems neverending
9. London is the pathway to Hogwarts, King's Cross, platform 9 3/4!
Things I love less: (note: the list is missing a 1. and starts with 2. because I erased 1. and I am too lazy to alter all the following numbers)
2. Strangers that call me "love" or "sweetheart" or "darling", especially older men
3. Mice and cockroaches in flats
4. London Underground (too loud and too old)
5. TOO many Starbucks, why aren't there more Urban Outfitters or Topshops?!
6. Tourists that flood central areas when I am in a hurry to get somewhere (it's freaking impossible to move quicker than 0.5m/s in Oxford Circus)
7. Too many good food places that could easily cause a huge weight gain, grr! Especially cafes that display their cakes and cookies in the windows, that should be freaking illegal!
8. No genuine nature, only artificial places like Hyde Park
9. The driving on the right side thing, I'm always in a fatal risk when crossing the road because I STILL look on the wrong side
10. Too many ambulances. On average, there's literally probably an ambulance that passes by every 5-10 mins outside the window and I can hear them as if they're right in front of me (hello tinnitus!)
11. Recycling things seems to be an alien concept here. I currently live with a friend who never recycles anything, and whenever I throw away cans or paper or cardboard boxes, you have no idea how immense the guilt is!
Oh no, I have more things in the hate list than the love list. But of one thing I am certain: London is one of my top favourite places in the world, and all the mice and cockroaches and Starbucks and cookies and ambulances won't scare me away!
Things that make my day #1
So the flat I went to see yesterday evening is located quite close to the river Thames. I walked along the riverside after the viewing, and I suddenly see this beautiful bridge all lit up. The riverside was so dark and cold, and the wind caused creaks and weird sounds everywhere, and I was walking all alone, a little bit scared. But in the distance in front of me this beautiful, mighty bridge led my way towards the light and warmth of the city and people. It felt like I was walking in a tunnel, and the light at the end of tunnel was beckoning me, welcoming me, and it was tangible. Coincidently, I was listening to "The War" by Melee in my music player:
It's so soft to the see the glow from the city up ahead
Connect my heart to the rhythm it's lead
Straight forward and ready 'cause I'm on my way home
It's so good to be alive in such a hazardous world
To be alive and see the victory unfurled
I'm anxious and waiting 'cause I'm on my way home
Yeah, your war is won oh my friend your're finally done
On that day you'll find ambitions don't lie here anymore
The one you love has gone and settled the score
What more could you ask for now
It's so good to be alive in such a wonderful year
To be alive and see the end of your fear
With peace in your ear 'cause you're on your way home
And all that time that we walk the line through pain and giving in to you
But now it's gone and so we'll move on and know that this is not the end
On that simple night when we've all lost our sight
You believed in what I said
From those cursed beginnings to those blessed ends
In between we've found our way to live
At that moment it felt so good to be alive, walking along the river, breathing in the cold air, heading towards the light.
Gradually coming out of my little shell
Prior to arriving in London, I told myself that London would be a perfect opportunity to expose myself to new people all the time and practice to eliminate the shyness I feel around them. Since my arrival, I've probably been exposed to 100s of new people, and everytime I shook hands with one of them, I'd remind myself to be myself, be open, and be socialable.
With new people, I find it hard to joke, to voice my opinion, and to tell a story of an incident or event that happened. I guess I'm particularly afraid that the person would find me weird and reject interacting with me before even giving me a chance to "prove" that I am a likeable person.
Since arriving in London, thanks to interviews and assessments and things that are based on first impressions, I have (very slowly) been coming out of my shell. I dare myself to make jokes or tell an interesting story of something that happened to not appear to be shy and dull to employers. I've told myself that if people don't like who you are, then just move on and find someone who will.
This is only the very beginning of eliminating that shyness I feel, because I do still feel immensely shy around strangers. But I'm partly out of my shell now, and it's just to keep on moving and practicing. I know I can do it.
Philosophical musing #1
I've been thinking though, are some people just people you can't get along with? You are just not mean to be friends, you just simply don't click? Or could more time spent together with that person possibly reverse the can't-get-along-ness?
When making friends, from past experiences, we all know that our first impressions are usually the wrong impression of a person. Only an extended amount of time spent together can reveal a person's character and personality. We might not like that person's character and personality that are so weird and foreign to us at first because we've never encountered it before. However, as we get to know that person, we get more and more comfortable around them, and eventually might even start liking that odd personality about them. Eventually our relationship might possibly slide from mere acquantainces to friends.
So if you gave each new person that you meet enough time to get to know them, their unique character and personality, (provided that you ended up generally liking the person's character and personality, which you normally do) shouldn't that mean, in theory, that you should be able to get along and become friends with every person you meet if you just gave each other enough time to get to know each other? Or?
Grr, it's so hard to wordify (?) what I am thinking. The fact that my brain is messed up doesn't make it easier either, so if you didn't understand anything of the above, then just move on and pretend you never read it..!
First Job Shift
So I arrived half an hour early and found the venue the dinner I was going to serve was held in. It was in the business area of London and holy shit, I felt so entirely out of place there. Well, on the outside I fitted right in, because I had to wear the uniform, black trousers and black shirt (i.e. too formal for my liking), but on the inside, I was screaming THIS PLACE AND EVERYONE HERE IS SO DAMN FREAKY. Everyone wore a suit and held one of those rich man leather hand bags with excessively polished shoes that can almost mirror your reflection. All the buildings were perfect and windows shiny and the pavement was completely gum spot free. Alien for the London I know.
So I walk in the loading bay at the back of the house since that is the staff entrance (we don't even get to enter through the front doors, hmph!). Sign my name in the log book and proceed to meet my new colleagues. They took good care of me and were all very friendly and sociable. I folded napkins, laid the table with cutlery, glasses and plates. Laying the table for each person for a three course meals requires 1 napkin, 3 pairs of different cutlery, 4 different sized glasses, salt, pepper, butter dishes, i.e. far too many components to keep track of! I bet the guests I laid the table for were missing parts.
I only committed one crime during this shift. When I was serving the main course to a guest, there was this brown sauce that was even more watery than water which was served on an unhelpful FLAT plate. Needless to say, I of course managed to spill half of that on a guest's 1000000 pound suit. He wasn't exactly delighted about it, but he was at least decent and didn't make a stupid fuss about a little bit of brown sauce landing on his precious suit. I avoided serving his table the rest of the night though just in case he would change his mind.
I actually enjoyed working. It was hard work and so freaking hectic, but I had fun and I look forward to my next shift!
Pride and Confidence
These interviews have given me pride and confidence that I haven't felt in a long time. Walking out of the third (and so far last) interview I did, my shoulders were held back, my head held high, my chest puffed out, and I felt proud and confident, like any insults or criticism anyone threw at me could get me down.
A few photos from over here
...lots of swans and seagulls
...my friend attempting to converse with a poor swan
...lots of fallen telephone boxes
...lots and lots of rain!
...and very, very little nature (this was taken at a location 30 mins away by train from central London, i.e. very far away from anywhere approachable, or i.e. I miss the nature in Sweden!)
Ok, I do promise to upload MUCH more exciting photos of London in the near future.
One random thought & a post script
Random thought #1 - LUCK
I have this feeling that something bad is bound to happen to me soon. When I think in retrospect about my London week that has passed, I feel awfully lucky, sometimes even too lucky. I feel like my experience here has been too good to be true, that God or whoever is playing a trick on me, like all I've achieved here will be taken away from me at any moment. I'm not saying that my London experience has been completely easy and obstacle-free. I have worked hard, busting my ass (well, actually legs since I walk on my legs and not my ass) wandering through London handing out CVs, making good first impressions, attending trials and interviews, etc. But until now I haven't encountered any major obstacles or setbacks in my path, and have successfully found a job. All this has been much eaiser than the scenario I pictured in my mind before coming here. So right now, I'm trying to treasure everything I have accomplished here just in case I lose all of it in a second. I'm also going to try to be slightly more careful in the future, because maybe God has put an obstacle in my search for accommodation or in my social life.
Or maybe I'm just thinking too much.
Post scrpt - P.S.
I noticed how damn boring my blog looks. I will decorate it more and add more pictures and photos of London soon (I just have to take some first).
Extreme mood swings
I've been in London for exactly a week today. During this week, I've been like a PMS-loaded barrel, with freaking extreme mood swings.
I am generally happy to be in London. Sometimes I forget that I'm actually dwelling in London, but whenever I do remember a stream of excitement shoots through me. Other times, when I have been wandering through the streets aimlessly for hours distributing my CVs, I start doubting and wondering whether London was a right step or wrong step. Sometimes when I'm alone in my friend's flat, the loneliness washes over me and makes me feel like the tiniest, most insignificant organism in this city. Like in a film, when you are standing in the middle of a street, while people are walking past you, but don't notice you even though you're shouting and screaming for their attention. Other times the intense kindness and generosity of my friends in London make me feel so glad and blessed that they are by my side. Sometimes I wallow in self-doubt, I doubt my ability to find a job and place to live in this huge city. Other times I feel proud, like I've come this far and I can accomplish anything.
Urgh, these mood swings are really draining. I am happy to be in London and am so extremely grateful that I have been so lucky. I will try my best to continue feeling happy and not let that PMS bitch in me out again.
Employment!
First of all, let me just annouce that: I have gotten a job! YEEPEEE!! It's a job for Esprit (pronounced Espreee, no t!), a company that provides catering and technical service etc. to events that take place primarily in London. So basically my job would be setting up tables, waiting guests at events with wine, champagne, little food on toothpicks, food, cakes, coffee, and clearing off tables. There're so many rules to waiting people, like you have to pour liquid from the right shoulder of the guest, but serve food from the er..left? See, there were too many rules, I can't even remember the basic ones. Yesterday, I went to the company's traning and assessment, and it was rather weird. They taught us how to carry plates and stuff, and told us we would not be assessed on our performance, because it's only our first time. But at the end of the whole thing, they said that they'd let us know within 24 hours who was successful based on the training and assessment today. So everyone was left clueless wondering exactly the same thing: What on earth did they base their assessment on?? I'm glad I got this job though, because I am going to book myself on superduper cool events, like film premieres and celebrity and royal people birthdays and befriend them!!! I know the job is probably not as glamourous as I now imagine it to be, and I won't be allowed to befriend the VIPs. I know there will be a lot of hard work and I will end up in tears at times, but I think it will be worth it.
Oh, and for anyone wondering about the TGI Friday's trial, well, I have no idea myself how that went. I haven't heard back from that "find-your-inner-Friday's-person" person, so shrug shrug. I'd just like to mention though that all the Friday's staff was soo sweet and helpful to me, probably because they see their past trial selves in me..! I also went to two interviews today, even though I knew I got that the Esprit job. These were in cute little cafes (with IRRESISTABLE cakes), and they haven't offered me anything yet, but even if they do, I would prefer to stay at Esprit. I don't think I can bare the thought of exchanging waiting the queen to waiting tourists and lcoals (no offence to tourists and locals though)!
So now all that remains is signing up and reading some Esprit documents, and then by next week, I will hopefully have done my first shift (which probably also means I will have served from the wrong side of the guest and completely messed up the serving order, eek!).
The best feeling in the world
Ok, where do I even start? Ups and downs and ups and downs.
Leaving day: It could have been a smoother start of day. Woke up 5:30, snoozed till no idea when, and then realised HOLY SHIT GOTTA GET UP AND GET MY ASS TO LONDON. Almost missed the tube at 6:30, and the journey to Skavsta Airport was sweaty, because I wore two layers of coats (15kg baggage limit and coats waste too much weight to store them in the suitcase!). Got to Skavsta, made a fool of myself multiple times, including queuing in the wrong flight line and the flight attendant asked me if I'm going to Milan and not London... The flight was delayed, and at the end of the flight, there was this recorded message that the pilot played saying that Ryanair is known as the most punctual flight company. Everyone in the plane looked at their watches with sarcastic-eyebrow-raising expressions on their faces simultaneously. Eventually, I arrived in London after a bumpy landing. Didn't do much the remaining day, went to the bank and a job centre, but not much else. Didn't have internet at the friend's place I'm staying at, so couldn't do much else. I don't know why, but this day I felt pretty indifferent towards everything. I was excited only from time to time, e.g. when I got off the plane and actually realised I was in London.
Day two: Woke up a little less enthusiastic than the previous day. Felt like it was going to be impossible for me to find work, and that there're sooo many documents and stuff I need to get, urgh. However, by midday, I had gotten my first job trial/interview at a catering company that caters events in London (including film premieres and cool stuff!). At the end of the afternoon after walking miles and miles including getting lost, I landed myself another trial at the American burger restaurant TGI Friday's. The manager kept going on about how important it is for the employees to be a TGI Friday's person, so my task is to find that inner Friday's person in me by tomorrow's trial. On my way home, I got lost, and asked a man for directions. We walked the same way, and eventually started talking. I told him I was looking for work and he said he had a few friends that he could take me to who owned restaurants and cafes. In my mind, this was exactly the kind of people I should avoid, and the most stupid thing in the whole world I could do would be to let stangers take me to their "restaurants". Then he asked me if I had any interest to sleep with him... YUCK and FUCK. I said no, never, don't even think it, no, no and no way in hell, and he seemed to be pretty daft cause he kept on asking the same question even after my noes. Eventually, I managed to shake him off, and on my way back to my friend's place I realised something: I am living my dream, I am fulfilling my dream. For months and months I've been dreaming of doing this, of looking for work and living in London, and I just realised yesterday that I am currently trying to fulfil that dream. That was the best feeling in the world.
Today (day three): At my friend's uni using the internet. The remaining day will be devoted to more job-seeking, avoiding more men like the above description, and to purchasing a completely black uniform for the Friday's trial. Wish me luck for tomorrow!
LondonlondonlondonlondonAAAAHHHH
This is it, I'm really going. Tomorrow, in less than 12 hours, I will be in London, without a home and without a job. I'll be starting from square one. What do I feel now? Hmm, lemme try to identify some emotions: excitement, nervosity, terror, fear, anxiety, uncertainty.. Urgh, most of that are negative feelings! Ok, how about this, I will try to feel more optimistic and confident, and not think about those negative feelings.
Will this move to London be a right step or a completely stupid and reckless and faulty step?
There's so much more I want to write down, so many thoughts swimming around in my mind now, but I need to go sleep, because I need to be up in less than 5 hours!! If I can't fall asleep, I'll come back and write them.
THUMBS UP
Change!
I haven't completely grasped how to use this place yet, which is why everything is black and white and utterly boring. I REALLY see that my blog is in desperate need of pictures and bright colours! As soon as I have some time, I will try to attend to all those details that need attention.
I suppose I can start by putting a little picture here to alleviate some of the boringness! Below is a picture I found on a university student forum:
F-R-I-E-N-D-S
So no one told you life was going to be this way. Your job's a joke, you're broke, you're love life's DOA.
It's like you're always stuck in second gear,
Well, it hasn't been your day, your week, your month, or even your year.
But, I'll be there for you, when the rain starts to pour.
I'll be there for you, like I've been there before.
I'll be there for you, cause you're there for me too.
Fat
The other day, I read another interesting article regarding obesity. Discrimination on the grounds of someone's weight seems to be more acceptable than other types of discrimination in society, such as against skin color or gender. Why is that though?
Even though I try not to judge anyone based on their weight, I still have prejudice against fat people. I've always been rather chubby, ever since I was a kid. At first I didn't care much cause I loved (junk)food too much to give it up. But as I started high school, I realised how much my chubbiness was causing self-confidence issues and making a negative impact on my social life. So one day I started controlling what I put in my mouth and that was the first day in what is probably going to be a life-long battle against gaining weight. I have lost my chubbiness since then (although there has been one major relapse). It hasn't been easy, especially because so much of a social life is about food. Everytime you meet friends or have family gatherings, there's always a tub of Ben and Jerry's or a huge bag of crisps easily available. Very often I'm bitter towards the people who don't have to watch what they eat. I suppose I've developed a phobia against gaining weight now. I feel like I've lost so much weight and it hasn't been easy, that if I put on weight, everything, every chocolate bar and every piece of cake I skipped will have been in vain. Anyway, my point is: to me, losing weight and eating more healthily is possible if you are determined, learn to control what you eat and learn to like exercising. Once it becomes routine, it's not as bad or difficult all the time.
That's why whenever I see people who are fat, I automatically judge them and give them attributes such as lazy, lacking self-control, and thus unrespectable. Wow, that sounds really horrible when I write it down like that. And I guess it is quite horrible. That is the ultimate example of judging a book by its cover, it is extremely unfair towards a person to judge him or her without any knowledge of their background. Not to mention there are certain medical conditions or medications that cause weight gain.
Maybe discrimination against fat people is more acceptable because being fat is (usually) something a person can control, whereas having a certain skin color or gender are things out of your control?
Why I Want to be a Doctor
So I'm preparing for interview questions in case I get an interview offer from one of the med-schools I applied to earlier this month (oops, last month, since it's November today already..!). And I'm kind of stuck on the first question: Why do I want to be a doctor? It's such a straight-forward question, but I can't provide any straight-forward answer.
As a kid, I've always known I'd grow up to be a doctor. It just seemed as a natural career choice, especially because my parents were both doctors, and my relatives all hoped that at least one person in the family will become a doctor (talk about pressure eh). I admit I was never really genuinely interested in medicine. Sure, the human body is a cool machine, I love helping people, it's a well-respected career, provides stability etc. etc. - but none of that really interested me. Not until much later.
Last summer I got the chance to work in a centre helping mentally disabled people with everyday activities. It wasn't an easy job, it was emotionally draining, frustrating, physically demanding, yet I still enjoyed it. It was rewarding. You know that wonderful feeling you get when you feel like you've done something useful, that you've served a purpose? That's what was worth all the though and dirty job in the end. I subsequently enrolled to attend a short course in Karolinska Institute called "Human Physiology". Wow, that course completely changed my opinion of the human body. I can't begin to describe the beauty of the complexity of all these mechanisms that keep our hearts pumping, our kidneys to filter out chemicals, our intestines to digest hamburgers, chips, ice-cream and similar junk. We know so much about the human body, but guess what, there's also so much more that we have no clue of. Just imagine the complicated gets even more complex. That freaking intrigues me.
Last summer I also observed surgeries. I have literally stood half a metre from a real, (unhealthy) but pumping heart. There are no words to describe how damn awesome it was, watching that little organ beating. That little thing, so strong yet so fragile, one (hard) poke with my figure could stop the pumping. The notion of being able to cut someone open, alter something inside their body, and then sew them back up, is just goddamn brilliant. It was overwhelming to stand there watching the heart, and watching the surgeons mend the heart.
Being a doctor is not as glamorous as I imagine it to be (I blame that on TV shows). Being a doctor is a difficult and tough job which requires so much emotional and physical stamina. It's not about saving patients and being the hero, in fact, very little is about that. Because most of the time it's about a lot of repetitiveness, a lot of pressure, not to mention the constant requirement of being alert and making the right decisions. It's about self-doubt, and constantly being worried whether a patient's deterioration or death was your fault. But I believe that the rewarding aspect, the self-satisfaction, character-developing, outweighs the formidable aspects, at least sometimes.
See, I can't give a straight-forward answer. But I know one straight-forward thing: I want to be a doctor, and I will be a good doctor one day.
HAPPY
I don't usually listen to Leona-Lewis-RnB-type-of-music, but I happened to hear a song of hers called "Happy". I can't stop listening to that song now! The song makes me feel...happy! and optimistic about my London trip.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=rA4HC9FKxVc
Can't upload the video here directly, grr.
Happy
Someone once told me that you have to choose
What you win or lose
You can't have everything
Don't you take chances
Might feel the pain
Don't you love in vain
Cause love won't set you free
I could stand by the side
And watch this life pass me by
So unhappy
But safe as could be
So what if it hurts me?
So what if I break down?
So what if this world just throws me off the edge
My feet run out of ground
I gotta find my place
I wanna hear my sound
Don't care about all the pain in front of me
Cause I'm just trying to be happy
Just wanna be happy
Holding on tightly
Just can't let it go
Just trying to play my role
Slowly disappear
All these days I feel like they're the same
Just different faces, different names
Get me outta here
I can't stand by your side
Watch this life pass me by, pass me by
So what if it hurts me?
So what if I break down?
So what if this world just throws me off the edge
My feet run out of ground
I gotta find my place
I wanna hear my sound
Don't care about all the pain in front of me
Cause I'm just trying to be happy
So and it's just that I can't see
The kind of stranger on this road
But don't say victim
Don't say anything
So what if it hurts me?
So what if I break down?
So what if this world just throws me off the edge
My feet run out of ground
I gotta find my place
I wanna hear my sound
Don't care about all the pain in front of me
People Who Make My Day #1
Today I met an inspirational woman at the hospital while I was getting my swine flu vaccine (which sucked by the way, because the dude who gave me the jab was a med-school student who had NEVER done it before. He forgot to aspire or whatever, and poked around my arm muscle for an extended period of time. In the end, he had the nerve to ask me if it hurt. HAH, I was almost gonna slap him and say lemme slosh around in your muscle with something sharp and YOU tell me if that hurts). Anyway, he was not the inspirational woman I was referring to. I was referring to a woman who waited for the jab with me. She apparently has Multiple Myeloma (a white blood cell cancer). I don't know how severe her disease was or how advanced the cancer was. I assume that it was probably pretty advanced because she told me: "You should value this day. Think of it this way, this day is never ever coming back. You will never have a day like this day again." Then she went to get the jab. When she was done and leaving she repeated her message: TREASURE EVERY SINGLE DAY.
Thanks, I need a reminder of that every now and then.
Why I Get Cold Feet
Some of my friends ask me why I am so nervous about going to London. After all, I've been in the UK, been to London, lived there without my family, and survived just fine. True, but it's different this time. This time I have no welcoming host family providing me with a nice and warm double bed, towels, a newly refurbished bathroom, food, and asking me if I need anything. This time I'm moving without any guarantees of anything. I haven't even found a job, haven't looked for a place to live, and I'll probably end up in a hostel with a bunch of German speaking party youngsters among mice and cockroaches (perfect company eh).
Well, it's not really the thought of the Germans or the fact that I might be homeless or kidnapped or murdered that gives me cold feet. Moving to London is probably the most reckless thing I've ever done in my life, and I really, really want everything to work out. My greatest fear is that nothing will work out, that I won't be able to find a job or a place to live, and that I'll have to go back to Sweden.
I've been reading some other people's blogs about moving to London lately. I get day-dreamy when I read them! For some of them, life in London has worked out great, and they now have a good job and home, and have decided to stay permanantly. It makes me day dream about my upcoming life in London, and wonder whether I'll find my place in London. If I (hypothetically) find a job I really enjoy and want to stay in London for an extended period of time, would I do it? Hmmm, no, I don't think so, I would not delay my medical studies another year.
Defining Sex and Gender
I've been writing about London so much lately (probably at least like 10 London references in every post!!), I thought I'd completely change the topic in this post for a change! I will try my best not to use the word "London" more than the times I've already used it above.
Ok, so I encountered a really interesting article on BBC's website the other day that I thought brought up really interesting points regarding the definition of sex. The article shed light on a lot of different aspects of sex and gender that I had no previously given much thought to. Medically, there are 4 types of sex. 1) your phenotype (what you look like), 2) your psychological (what you feel like, which is usually the same as your phenotype), 3) your gonadal sex (ovaries or testicles) and 4) chromosomal sex (your combination of X and Y chromosomes).
There are a bunch of intersex conditions, like androgen insensitivity syndrome (the feotus has male chromosomes but doesn't respond to testosterone) or chromosomal disorders like Turner's Syndrome, where individuals have one X chromosome and no Y chromosome, or Klinefelter's syndrome where males have two or more (!) X chromosomes in addition to one Y.
In our society, our social construction of sex has two categories based solely on a person's phenotypical sex. I suppose the majority of people on earth would have no problem fitting into one of those categories. But what about the minority? What if they are penotypically/psychologically/gonadally/chromosomally not solely female or male? And what if your child has multiple sex organs from birth, how do you decide what sex to assign the baby? I thought those were really interesting points raised in the article.
Maybe we should eliminate the concept of gender completely? Hmm.
P.S. I am off to the city that begins with L in a week! And no, I didn't break the rule, I didn't actually use the L-word ;)
1 Step Closer
Today I can cross out one more thing on my "life and death to-do-list before going to London": högskoleprovet! I am done, done, DONE with that dumb test. Total test duration was like 7 hours, and near the end of those hours I stopped caring about doing well, and all that was going on in my brain cells (besides the pounding headache) was to GET IT DONE AND GO HOME AND SLEEP.
At the test centre I met a former girl who used to take a class with me in high school. She has exactly the same plans as I do regarding London (only difference is she's going with a friend). It was really exciting to exchange ideas and thoughts with her! I'm now more motivated than ever to go to London! Now that remains is getting all the necessary documents and papers, meeting some friends, doing a mock interview for potential med-school interviews, and then I am OFF! Wheyhey!
Don't really know what the point of this post was, except to declare that I am 1 step closer to getting to London, and that thought makes me happy and excited (and nervous, and scared, and doubtful...!).
Fluctuations of feeling motivated and unmotivated
Feeling unmotivated sucks. It's the suckiest feeling in the whole world. Recently, I've felt unmotivated quite often and I usually cannot find the source of it. And the worst part of it is that I binge-eat a lot when I'm unmotivated. Hah, it's kind of ironic, that even when I have no motivation to do anything, I can still be arsed to eat. When I say a lot, I mean A LOT, A WHOLE DAMN LOT, and it's scary. I can finish an entire 300g crisps package in less than 15 minutes. Imagine if my binge-eating could be replaced by binge-exercising everytime I felt unmotivated. Holy, I'd wanna feel unmotivated all the time then!
Sometimes when I feel unmotivated, the only thing that gets me motivated again is the thought of going to London soon. Then I get excited, and start like packing, hah, and start looking up hostels and jobs and stuff. Then for no reason, the next hour or day or if I'm lucky, week, I start feeling unmotivated again, and overconsume crisps again. It's always crisps, I don't know why. Maybe I'll try apples or strawberries or something next time.
In all seriousness though, I think I have a vague idea of where this unmotivated me stems from. The problem is I've been at home since July. That's like almost 4 months ago, and I've been at home mostly studying for exams for med-schools, working on med-school applications, exercising, meeting friends a few times a week (up until most of them left to go to uni..!), and not much else. And I think I'm just really fed up staying at home, studying for exam after exam. I know all of the studying is for my doctor dream, but I'm starting to lose focus and forget more often than remember why I'm studying these useless things (e.g. completely obsolete Swedish words).
Anyway, basically, to sum up this post: I can't wait to go to LONDON!!! EEAAAHHH!
My Daddy
I love my dad a lot. To me, he is the best dad in the world. He has sacrificed so much for me, for the family. He never complains about it. He may not know how to be the a good dad, but he is still the best dad, because he loves me unconditionally.
My family has never been a very close family. We lost that family spirit years and years ago. It's become increasingly hard to gather the family and do something altogether as a family. I feel like we're just a bunch of people who happen to live together, each one with a separate life. We don't ever have breakfast together, we don't ever leave the house together, we hardly spend anytime during the entire day together besides for a quick (and sometimes dead quiet) 10-minute dinner, and then it's off to the TV, or the computer, or whatever, separately.
Since my sister moved out, and my mum attends Swedish classes two days a week, I have dinner with my dad alone sometimes. I hate those dinners. I have nothing to say to my dad, but I try to talk about something, anything, so that at least the cutlery banging onto porcelain plate sound is not the sole sound. I ask him stupid questions, or ask him things I know the answer to, or tell him useless facts. My dad answers with a yes or no or a grunt, but never with a joke, never with a sentence more than 5 words. I'm disappointed at my dad. I'm disappointed that he doesn't even feel like he wants to make an effort to have a normal conversation at the dinner table. It makes me sad that he is indifferent. He loves me, I am sure, but then why doesn't he make an effort to make the relationship even stronger?
I just found out that my dad has arranged to go back to China for his job there during the Christmas holidays. Every Christmas, my family has been gathered. Even though we don't do much, at least it's the only time during the whole year where we all consciously make an effort to be together and spend one day together. This year, my dad has arranged to go away. Fuck. Doesn't he want to make this family work anymore? I'm disappointed in him, again.
Do we have to go separate ways?
I miss the way you cup my face in your hand and stroke my cheeks softly with your fingers. I miss the way you chuckle gently at something stupid I say just before we kiss. I miss how comfortable I feel in your company to almost entirely be myself around you. I miss hearing your laugh that brightens my day. I miss the immense feeling of security you give me when we lay side-by-side in bed. I miss smoking cigars with you. I miss strolling through the streets and getting lost with you. I miss the feeling I get, that everything will be okay, when you wrap your your arms around me tightly. I miss looking into your face, into the soul that contains so much grief, pain, fear and anger.
Please, come back. I miss you.
Pleased and Relieved
On Thursday I sat the UKCAT, a UK med-school admissions exam required by the majority of med-schools there. I went into the test centre very unconfident, but came out of it with rather satisfactory results! Well, to be honest, my results were only a little bit above the UK average, but what I was really satisfied about was the fact that my personal score improved by more than 400 points compared to last year! Last year I sat the same exam and got a much lower score. This year I was determined to improve my score, and I worked my ass off and studied and practiced, and I'm so pleased that my hard work has paid off.
So my UK med-school application has been sent and I've sat the UKCAT. That's two stages out of three in the admissions process, the third stage being the interview. Now I need to prepare for any potential interviews. I will work my ass off again, and hopefully my hard work will once again pay off!
Edit: I've been trying to change the time displayed beneath my posts into my actual time zone, but I haven't figured out how to do that yet, and it's really bugging me! I don't write posts at 4am in the morning, I do have a life! Well, I'd like to think I do :)
Holy Jesus, I just determined my university fate
Ok, so today I rang our student counsellor, or whatever they are called, those people who guide you with your education choices. I was going to ask her a few questions regarding my university application, and she asks me why I haven't closed my application. WAIT, WHAT? CLOSE my application? Apparently, the school has a deadline I was unaware of, I should have closed my application 10 days ago so the school could process it before sending it off to the universities. Well, thanks a bunch for informing me about the deadline...10 days late. I'm really grateful though, that I decided to ring her today, otherwise I would have been more than 10 days late, and God knows whether I would have been able to send my application at all.
So after that phone call, I calmed myself down (well, attempted to at least) and ran to the computer to complete my application. After a few hours, I made up my mind on which four UK universities to apply for. I'll probably regret some of my choices as I based my university fate on a mere few hours of med-school and course research.
I'm about to send off my application, just a few clicks away, and I'm behaving like a chicken, I'm scared. This is really not how I hoped to complete my university application - stressed and scared and insecure and on the verge of regretting a choice any moment. I feel like I've too hastily decided upon my choices, and so my university fate will be rejections.
OK, enough bullshit, I WILL click on send after I post this. Geez, what a day.
Where Am I?
I don't mean my physical location, because frankly, I really don't want to be reminded of the cold and rainy surroundings in my location situated faaar too north on earth for my liking. I mean where am I in life?
I'm somewhere between the transition of a spoiled teenager and a dependent young (emphasis on young!) adult. I'm trying to break free of the secure home my family has provided me with and become independent. I want to test my limits and overcome obstacles and challenges of the real world beyond that haven. I want to be reckless, irrational, impulsive, insane and fearless. I want to reach the moon and the stars, fall back down on earth and bruise my ass, and apply ice, dust myself off and keep on going. I want to do all this before it's too late, before I start med-school, before I get drowned in mountains of work and responsibility. I want to go on a rollar coaster ride with 360 degree loops and 90 degree turns during the coming year. I'm going to start my ride in London and hopefully end up in the most remote village among tribal people carrying spears and hunting frogs in the middle of the Pacific Ocean on an island you can't locate on a map.
Anyone care to join me? :)
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So I've decided to start blogging...only like 5 years after everyone else, heh. I like to write down thoughts and feelings of the moment, scribble quotes, lyrics and poems here and there, so hopefully this blog will be a place where I can do all that.
It's currently 19 minutes and 16 seconds past 1, i.e. way past my usual bed time. I'll offically start blogging tomorrow when it's not so late and my brain is less foggy. Night!
