Uncreated Conscience

Once more med school prom has come and gone I have the photographic evidence in my nail-polish stained fingers. There needs to be more (semi)formal events in my life so I can indulge my inner princess by wearing pretty, pretty dresses and makeup.

From a mask and makeup test a few weeks ago.

My mother once accused me of living in a made-up world of stories and fairytales. Of course, I found this vastly complimentary, but Mum actually intended it as a criticism of how I dress. I stand convicted. As you might recall, last year Bear and I went as a gangster and moll from the 1930s. This year the med school itself gave me a theme: masquerade ball.

Photos from the night (and the process of getting ready) below the cut.

(more…)

As I told my boss the other day, I am “somewhat of an organisation Nazi.” A rather unfortunate choice of words, perhaps, but nonetheless very true. Today was spent in a flurry of sorting and labelling my papers, filing them away in these pretty folders I got at Staples.

Because even my organization needs to be pretty.

Perhaps I ought to have printed out labels, but I got lazy with the printer and handwrote them instead. Now my OCD is starting to kick in and the fact that not everything is centered is making me twitch. Alas.

While in the process of cleaning out my files, I re-discovered some photographs of me as a baby. I am somewhat surprised that I look very, very Asian in these pictures. Well, not that I don’t look rather Asian on a day-to-day basis, but my face shape and my eye shape are rather different today than they were when I was little.

(more…)

Rose Red weather.

I awoke this morning to find the world leached of all colour and blanketed in white. I absolutely love the snow (even if I hate winter). It may be a white Christmas in the city for the first time in years (I’m being optimistic here) and I’m glad I got to see it before I left for sunny and warm Los Angeles.

I remember the first time I ever experienced snow. It was the first time I ever went skiing. I was four years old and my family had taken me to Big Bear. I must have scarcely been taller than three feet and I remember my dad having to keep me between his legs as we rode the T-bar up the slope because I was so small it would whisk me along so fast I ended up being dragged on my stomach. It felt like a small private world being in Dad’s arms: his large gloved hands on either side of my small mittened ones. The snow was coming down heavily and I didn’t like it, not then, not the way it stuck to my eyelashes when I didn’t have my goggles on. My dad laugh as I made a face and told me to stick out my tongue.

(more…)

I have no idea why “I’m Sorry, Ms. Jackson” is stuck in my head as it’s not even one of the songs I’ve rediscovered on my external harddrive.

This past weekend, instead of doing anything remotely productive, I spent an ungodly amount of time linking songs on my iTunes to songs on my external harddrive to save some space on my poor beleaguered Pantalaimon. Alas, this means that I have no access to my Music Library when Kirjava (the external harddrive) doesn’t accompany me. In addition, I’m not sure whether or not I can update Endymion the iPod this way, although I suppose the point is moot as he’s only on his last legs (click-wheel?). I am in dire need of some new bits of technology, alas.

And just because, I decided to show off an enormous picspam about me.

RAMPANT NARCISSISM

I have achieved moderate success on revising the first act and with any luck, should have it wrapped up this weekend. I need to set active goals for myself once more; it seemed to motivate me extraordinarily well throughout the writing of the first draft. So, by the end of Thanksgiving weekend I shall have the entire first act completely revised.

To celebrate, I am going to post a picspam of myself and White-Harp (because she’s a camera whore just like me).

Still together after all these years.

(more…)