My Lord! Open up for me my heart. And ease for me my task. And untie the knot of my tongue.
That they may understand my speech.

Qur'an - 20:25-28

Wednesday, June 18, 2014

Thus far

So I have an exam in two days - my last - and I decided to write up a blog post.


Priorities.

Did I ever comment on your blog with a whiny little plea for you to blog more often, because, you know, I totally understood that you had a life, but I really did miss you and would it really be too hard for you to write a blog every now and again to lettuce know you're alive?

...

I lied. I never understood. Now I understand.

I tried to write a post much before - I really did want to keep you guys updated. This is what it was:

There aren't enough hours in a day.

This post, right here? It's going to be written in the gaps. In little moments that I can steal. Because this is what university life is coming down to. Fleeting conversations with would-be friends between huge chunks of lectures. Hurrying to catch the bus, hurrying to get home. On the bus, trying to fit as many songs in as I can, make that always short period of respite last forever. Those bus rides - the only moments where there isn't something I have to do, pay attention to, or go somewhere, the only place I can just be. And there are assignments that seem so far in the distant, and suddenly they loom up before you. Devoting hours to taking notes on one unit, to pass a weekly quiz that takes 15min. Brief meetings with old friends on a uni campus I don't even attend, only to discuss when we can we can next catch up for a proper conversation. Will it ever happen? I want it to happen. I don't know if they do. But I think we both have to accept that the chances are slimming down, rapidly.

Why do I always come across as depressed?

I am not depressed. I am tired. So tired, always.

How depressing, non?

And it ahbviously failed, because I absolutely could not find the time to write up all the little moments I wanted to. It's been a long, hard road, guys, but I'm happy to say I love where it took me.

So. UNIVERSITY.

I really donno how to condense this, and even though I am going to condense this, it's still not going to be so condensed. Oh well.

Let's start with the course. In summary, I FREAKING LOVE IT. SO. SO. SO. MUCH.

Paramedics and Nursing. One of the best decisions I've ever made.

So this semester, I had to do four units. One was Anatomy and Physiology, which is kinda the overlap between Paramedics and Nursing. You can imagine the grief this unit caused me; I've always been an Arts/Humanities girl - science is not my thing. The funny thing is, I think the coordinators of the unit knew what a pain their unit was, so even though it was still my hardest unit, it was the easiest to study for, and the assignment was really straightforward too - they made everything so clear cut and everything, and therefore, ironically, I ended up liking the unit.

I also had two nursing units. I call one Real Nursing, and the other one Boring Nursing, because it was stupid. Boring Nursing is something to do with 'scholarly communication', and I can see how it might have been relevant in second or third year, but as a first year, I think it was stupid to teach us about research and all that jazz when none of us knew anything anyway. The only good thing, really, was Boring Nursing had no exam, just three assignments. I had one of my First Bad Experiences with this stupid unit, and for the sake of important university memories, I'm gonna write it out for you, but I'm so over it. But feel free to call me out if I'm being bratty ^_^

Bad Experience Uno
So for this first assignment, it was only an online submission. As a typically studious, terrified first year student, I put in my all to get the assignment done on time, and went over it pedantically only a billion and one times. I have this thing where I can't submit an assignment or leave an exam early, because I would just die if I realised a second after that there was something I did wrong/could have done better. It's one thing where you had no time to fix something, but when you have plenty and you can't fix it... agajhdgkaj, you know?

So it was due on a Friday at 2pm. I uploaded my assignment on Thursday night after much fretting, and then phew, sweet relief.

Five days later, at the Boring Nursing lecture, our lecturer told us that she was concerned because about 100 of 300 students had yet to submit their assignment.

"Can you all just make sure you pressed the submit button, instead of just uploading?"

You can imagine the mini-freakout. So in that lecture, I submitted the assignment, but I wasn't really anxious, because a) the lecturer/unit coordinator didn't sound too fussed, and b) I think I just assumed if 100 students made the same mistake, they wouldn't penalize us.

But y'all know this is a Bad Experience, and hence you know there ain't no happy ending. When I got my assignment, I was initially elated to see that I had received a High Distinction. And then, right next to that, it said my mark had been halved because it was 5 days late.

And by halving my mark, it had essentially become a fail.

Like a backhanded compliment.

I didn't really break down immediately; I was just stunned, I guess. As I was with a whole bunch of friends at the time, they were all really calm and insisted that it was no big deal.

"Email her [the lecturer/unit coordinator]," every single person in the universe said. "You're just a first year, heaps of people made the same mistake, and it was just a genuine silly little mistake, she'll change it." I don't mean just other students; the people at the nursing office said it too. So I emailed her. And she basically said no.

Cue the water works. It wasn't so much the fact that she refused. It was the way her email implied I was slack. I've never been that student, so it burned. That, and the fact it was a fail. I rarely (if ever) fail. I don't always do well, but a fail?!

Moral: Uni staff have no mercy. When fretting over assignment, fret until you're 6000% sure you've submitted it.

As for Real Nursing, I love it because it's the practical side, and it was also about all those fluffy ideals I think of when I think of nurses. Love the lecturers, love the tutors. They're such stereotypes, it's adorable.

And then there's Paramedics.

Gosh. Okay. So how do I explain this?

For all my lectures, tutorials and labs, all the staff have a standard way of introducing themselves: name, qualifications, years of experience, yada yada yada. Nothing spectacular.
Jaime - the paramedics lecturer/unit coordinator - started our first lecture by pulling up a photo of a baby girl on the powerpoint.

"This is Indie," she said. "She's my world."

She went on to say all this random stuff about her, you know, like she doesn't like wearing shoes, and she loves photography, and she's a family person...

Love at first sight, people.

She's just so AWESOME. Everyone loves her. I'm not even exaggerating. For First Years, the university has this program where they have senior students call you up at certain intervals to see how you're doing. A few weeks in, this guy calls me up and asks me how things are, and I was telling him how much I love my lecturer, and he's like: "Is this Jaime?"

And I'm like why yes, who else?!

In this one lecture, she wanted us to do this quick group activity, and she told us to write our answers on a paper, make a plane, and fly it down to her. It was a fail, but still. In this other lecture, she wanted us to do a survey (andnevermindeveryonewouldclimbmountainsforher) and she felt she had to bribe us, so she brought in this massive container of chocolates, and literally strolled around the theatre throwing them at us. Mind you, that's a couple of hundred students. Just saying. Another day, she thought it was a beautiful day, so she made us all go outside to practise practical stuff. Also, she refuses to record lectures, because she says she loves us so much and she wants to be able to see our faces every week, even if she has to force us to get there.

I love her so much. I want to be just like her. She's such a hippy... such a pocketful of sunshine. I'm just a little obsessed with her. We all are.

And that's just her. The Paramedic aspect in itself is just...everythingIthoughtitwouldbeandmore. The practicals, the jumpsuit, the placements - I've had four so far - it's just... amazing.

I'm gonna end this on a picture of the promised jumpsuit photo, and my precious kitties who have, alas, since left the nest... but I've still much to add, so To Be Continued...



ROUND #1:
Kiko
Doughnut
Socks
Princess Fluffy
Salem
ROUND #2:
Fred & George
Odette
Sylvie
Rafaella
Peace in,
Laila

Sunday, March 2, 2014

When one asks for a life...

... One ends up the emergency ward of a hospital, amongst lots of other things.

So I started having the semblance of a life, since my last post. I have a casual job - Star's aunty hired us to be office hands every now and again - and I've got two clients to tutor. I went to a couple of friends' houses. On the Friday - I think it was last Friday, I finally got to get together with Lindy-lou. We've been trying to hang out for ayyyges, but she's the polar opposite of me - she has this crazy life that's packed with... lifey stuff. So on the Friday, she had this one break, and BAM, we decided to chill.

We watched Lars and the Real Girl. I think it's a good movie, but we were in the mood to just take the mickey out of everything, so we couldn't take it seriously. Also, she has this adorable kitty who was just so distracting... and yeah. The movie became a background feature. Then we played games - this block tower-y one, Uno, and some brain teasers on her laptop. Her grandmother made us pizza, and I got to introduce her to the wonderful world of Fear of a Brown Planet. It was nice and relaxing and fun, but the whole time, my feet were just freezing. I had my good ol' purple tinged fingernail/toenail thing going on, and no matter how much I tried to tuck them away, I couldn't get the cold out of them. Also, Lindy just giving me cold Coke, and I drank it because I felt obligated to, and it was so hard to swallow... and I knew I was coming down with something.

When I walked home, I sat down, and it was just a downward spiral. My voice was all stuffy, my head was all hot, but the rest of me was freezing, and although I made it through one tutoring session, I missed out on class because I tried to go to sleep - I use 'tried', because it was just this awful haze of tossing and turning, freezing and sweating, and... gosh, it was terrible.

But I think it looked a lot worse, because when my mother was getting me to go to my own bed (I'd settled into hers), I had tears running down my face. I was not crying; it was more like the hay-fever kind of tears, uncontrollable, but not like you're actually sobbing and weeping. But I couldn't tell her it was okay, because, as I said, my voice was stuffy.

So I was forced to go to the doctor the next day, and he said it was tonsillitis. He didn't explain much, like how you get it or anything, he just prescribed some tablets that I was supposed to take for ten days. I thought 'cool', although I had a slight worry here:

A week ago, on the Wednesday, my Islamic teacher asked me if I'd do a speech for the Jewish Christian Muslim Association (JCMA) Women's Conference. I was figuring out the most polite way to decline, because honestly, speeches, though I can do them, if I have a choice, I prefer not to. Also, I need time, and a certain mood to build up some passion for the topic, you know? (The topic was how I (in a religious context) help 'repair the world'). But before I could say no, my charming older sister said YESOFCOURSESHE'LLDOIT, and my mother heard and insisted that there was no point asking me about such things, the key is just to order me to do it. (To be fair, she's right. But still.) So I was roped into doing this speech, and although I sent my teacher a rough draft, the day before the speech she still hadn't sent me the edited version, and I had some nasty tonsillitis.

So it had to get worse, right? At night (my teacher still hadn't sent me the speech), my ... illness... just exploded. I donno, I couldn't breathe, basically - like my nose was stuffed up, breathing through my mouth (i.e. tonsils) just killed, and so as I heaved and choked and those tears just kept pouring (I was not crying), my mother called my daddy and said I had to go to the emergency ward.


First time for everything.

Uhm... basically, it was a lot of waiting. Waiting at the receptionist, so she could fill out details and stuff. Waiting in the emergency ward for the nurse, and then for the doctor. The hours just ticked by. They asked me the same questions, I gave them the same answers, and honestly, between all the waiting, the can't-breathe sensation just died. I could've gone home, but the doctor said I should hang around for the night just in case. I wanted to be all grown up - and okay, I was a little embarrassed, too - so I told my dad he could just go home. It was really hard to sleep, because the hospital was just ... always alive, I guess. I mean, it makes sense. But the lights were on and people were constantly pacing and it felt like day time, and I don't really sleep during the day. This nurse was also constantly checking my blood pressure, and the cannula they had jabbed into my arm was irritating, and... and the lady in the bed next to me - I couldn't see her - but throughout the night, at various intervals, this nurse kept asking her to pee... "Scarlett, I need you to do a wee for me. Scarlett, hon, please get up and wee. Scarlett, you have to wee for me, in this cup. No - Scarlett, you have to wee, you can wee after I get you the drink then. Scarlett, WEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!"


Not the perfect soundtrack to fall asleep to.

Anyhow, at 6am, they jabbed some kind of medicine into me (after giving me a lemony icy pole), and kind of fast tracked the tonsillitis curing process, so that I was good to go after. I mean, my voice was still weird, and I think I had a cold still, but the tonsillitis was gone, for sure.

So about 9am, I get home. I had to tutor my other client at 10am. In between, I had to get ready to leave about 11am (though we ended up leaving at like 11:30am.) And I had about two or three chances to read my speech and try to learn what I could.

The conference... was full of old people. I expected more younger girls, so I had an informal kind of speech, with a lot of colloquialisms thrown in. But I think I was the youngest there... and it was awkward. Apparently I did okay (they kind of sold me as some kind of hero, like, oh my, did you know she was in hospital last night and she just got out this morning?), which is fun, I guess, but I hate it when they do it when you're around, you know? I don't do compliments really well, so it was just a whole lot of 'yeah, uhm, thanks'. 

Oh, we met out first Jewish person, this girl called Moriya, and she was so sweet and smiley and she had beautiful eyes. I know that's a bit random, and I feel like I just objectified Jews, but... seriously. I have never personally met Jews before the conference. It was kinda cool :)


So Sunday simmered down and ended well, and on Monday, I had my medical/fitness test. Lemme just say I killed it well and good. I was a little iffy because I didn't feel at the prime of my health, and I always have that typical worry that OMGI'mprobablyoverweightI'msooofat. I, uhm, don't share that with a lot of people, but when the scales come out, it's always at the back of my mind. But when I hopped on the scales, turns out I've actually lost weight since the last time I checked, and regardless, I was fine. Heck, the fitness dude, who was explaining to me when I have to go through this again when I officially start the job, as long as I maintain my 'slender figure', I'll be fine. I mean, I'm pretty sure it's an exaggeration, but I'll take it. I passed the medical stuff fine. The fitness stuff turned out to be okay too - a variety of different sit ups, and push ups, a stretch thing, and - the best part - cycling. Cycling. I do it every morning. 

Basically, for each task, you earn a point, and there are 24 points up for grabs, but 13 is all you need to pass. I got 22, and he said I was one of the highest (it was either I was one of the highest of all, or just between the girls, or officially the highest of the girls. I'm not entirely sure). So that was one off my checklist.

Then... Thursday. University orientation.

I screwed up pretty darn bad. See, I'm going to the Peninsula campus of Monash, but my sister and my cousin and basically everyone goes to the Clayton campus. Hence, when I was on the Orientation planner thing, my automatic inclination was to click 'Clayton', and hence, I ended up getting the wrong date for the general welcome. Thank God I didn't actually miss anything important, but it did mean that on Thursday, I spent a good two hours alone and cold at the Peninsula campus, pretty darn early in the morning (I had to get up at 5:50am). When I did get the one part I did right, it was only a half hour talk by one lady, and she was funny and fun and I like her and she got me all excited all over again. I mean, I still have screwed up some other stuff, which is just thumping on the back of my mind, but I won't write about that because I've come to the stage where I know that talking and whinging or even thinking about it isn't going to change anything -_-'

 I also kind of made a friend. Between all the tall, beautiful white people, I spotted an ethnic and introduced myself, and yep, she's from good ol' Dandenong, where I live. Perfect, right? ^_^ 

Then I took a bus back to Clayton, where my sister and my cousin were hanging about for the club day I think (where all the uni clubs are basically put on show as they try to recruit you). I made another kind of friend - well, she made friends with me. She basically introduced herself, and eventually figured out that we have a whole lot of mutual friends, and I was just like how the heck did you know it was me? because I have never met her before. But she was really vibrant and cute, so yeah, I can put aside the creepyness of our meeting. I got some henna done, got my face painted (brought out my inner fairy, it did), and... it was another nice day.

And throughout, I've made cookies, I've read books, and life is looking up. Things are getting busy again, and I feel like I can stop singing this
 
 AND. My cat had kittens again :') Five more. I WILL POST PHOTOS, of the last litter and the new ones, I'm just waiting on my new laptop, which I'll get sometime in March...

That is all.

Peace in,
Laila