Anecdotes of my passing...

Anyone who's had any decent conversation with me these days will be dragged into my current pet topic which is 'I am getting older'. It will usually begin innocently enough with the general remarks that eating is not what it used to be or the state of one's physical self or that my hair is on its way to being like that of Richard Gere's or Rayden.

I used to eat really huge portions. Now, i'm eating only a small fraction of what I used to. Not because I'm on a diet ( well, an imaginary one lah ). I get full so much faster now. 1 packet of maggi mee is enough to fill me, oddly enough. However, I do get the occasional bursts of appetite that is reminiscent of my more youthful days. Ah, when it happens, it's like reliving the good 'ol times. Unfortunately, my body has a mind of its own. It is growing in inverse proportion to my intake of food. Sad but true.

Sometimes, I wake up with a slight ache in my lower back. This is definitely a new symptom and not one that I like. Unless I get a masseuse spouse, this is just going to get worse.

Little kids call you 'uncle' or 'auntie' now, instead of elder brother or sister. Maybe it's because I look very old.

Your hobbies have also changed and evolved. I've stopped gaming a long time now. No more MMORPG, RPG, online turn-based strategies, shooters and even the stupid mini games. Sigh. All those knowledge and l33t sk1llz going to waste. Sometimes i crave for the rush of p4wnz00rrzz! and h4xxorzz!!!

Last but not least, I need to start improving my sword skills. I am so rubbish with it. If I'm to maintain my image as the latest reincarnation of Sephiroth, I have to start practising swords and growing my hair. And they say I have to get a job. Bah, humbug!

A B C D E F G H I J K L M N O P Q R S T V W X Y Z Z

Slap me three times and send me back to me momma....arr!

What's the story...

It’s been a while since I last had durian but I had my cravings appeased today. Good stuff. So good you’ll get sick eating too much of it. Some get sick just by the smell. A truly omnipotent fruit. :D I do miss the berries and preserves of good ol English land but we gotta make do with what we have, eh?

The dingy but lively streets of Bfields is going to be home for next week or so till I finish my paper. I don’t know whether to be happy or sad. I miss home. And that’s where my heart is...which incidentally may be more than one place.

This was it. I had finally decided to do it. I could see the cars flashing past and pedestrians walking from the large window in front of me. I felt so disconnected from the world. Such is life, that it goes on whether you like it or not. I tried to concentrate on the non-fiction I had in my hands but the words seemed a little strange that day. My usual pace was off and there were instances when I had to reread an earlier sentence. Kindy school style. Word for word. Sentence by sentence.

The sofa was eerily vacant that day save for my knapsack and self. The plants were artificially cheery and the only soundtracks were the rhythmic interlude of the clock chimes and the mechanical hum of a drill. I knew what it was because it was a familiar sound. One could have mistaken it for the sound of a blender churning out some sweet nectar or perhaps someone scorching the tracks in NFS 3. But not me. I knew better.

I tried finishing the chapter but I was too fidgety. Despite my erratic attention on the paperback, I jumped when she finally called my name. If only she was Gisele or Natalie summoning me to her bedroom. Fantasies aside, I got up meekly and followed her. Like a pig going to slaughter.

The room felt so cold and surreal. She sat me down and I had a bib tucked over my chest. The syrupy ballads of yesteryear tried to drown my doubts but failed miserably. I would normally enjoy Lite n Easy anytime, but not today.

The room felt cold and surreal. I always cover up, especially on my dates with her. Not because I’m self-conscious about my body. Rather, it was no matter what the temperature reads out in Celsius, it was always colder despite the reading in a pit like this.

When Dr Rachel finally made her way in, I felt I was stuck in a scene from Hostel. Not the make out scene on the bed, but the blood and gore in the dilapidated warehouse turn torture chambers. Her cheery greetings did nothing to soothe my already terribly frayed nerves. I never liked dentists. In a dental clinic, of course. Then there was X but that would be another story.
She jabbed my twice with painkillers. I could feel my mouth and cheek on the left side slowly going numb. She left the room and I tried reading my book again but the numbness and fear were paramount on my mind.

When she returned, I could sense that she was relishing the thought of carving out my mouth. No, it must be my imagination, I thought. Then she asked me to open my mouth wider. I could feel the drill sculpting , no wrecking, my still-perfect and cavity-free wisdom tooth. When I could open my mouth no more bigger, she had a calliper to stretch my mouth.

Just when I thought the drill had stopped and she could finally pick out the tooth, the ordeal began again. This went on for a while. For about 15 minutes, rather. Or was it 20? Then she tried to prise the tooth out. I could feel the thrusting sensation with the base of my gum as the fulcrum and after a few attempts a lifting out the tooth, I felt the drill again. I could literally feel the pressure as she tried to keep push out the tooth. Perhaps she didn’t have enough strength. But then again, I don’t want Schwarzenegger to handle anything near me, or in me, either.

All the while the assisting nurse moved the tube about my mouth to suck out the saliva. It was plain bad luck that the machine had to fail in the middle of the operation. I could feel and taste blood in my mouth. And my saliva was just accumulating more than ever. When the new machine was brought in, it gave me a temporary relief but I felt the nurse could have done a better job. I felt that she was just going through the motions without really doing what a proper nurse would have done.

After the tooth was finally removed, I thought that was the end of it all. No! Dr Rachel had to stitch the wound. Funnily enough, I felt no pain at all. I guess that was because she gave me another jab of painkillers. I could feel a strange void at the end of my mouth. And it was real bloody. She showed me my mutilated tooth and I felt sorry for it. Such a perfect tooth had to be “killed” just because it was different. It was coming out horizontally. Since when do we persecute a person just because he was a little abnormal?

After the shock that was the operation, the reception area nearly induced another heart attack when I had to pay RM 350 for the torture operation. My earlier wisdom tooth only cost me RM 30. I guess the kinkier the torture operation, the higher the cost. Basic economics.
I lost my love for food for 2 weeks. Everything tasted different. Even now, and after removing the stitches, anything cold still gives the area of my mouth pain. If I exert too much physical pressure such jumping rope, it hurts as well. But hey, the ordeal is finally over isn’t it?

I dread the 2 more wisdom teeth that I’m supposed to remove. But that will be another story for another day.

Some call it the house effect. Some say it’s the vacation effect. However, they’re both different syndromes and how so, I shall expound shortly.

Have you ever felt like not leaving the house once you’re safely ensconced within? You may feel that there is no need to step out and everything you need is right here at home. The social calendar is suddenly limited to the couch, kitchen and bedroom and any other living sentient beings at home (for some, plants even). Any urges to leave the house is suddenly mollified and so what if there’s a sale at the swanky mall in town... If your life sounds similar to this, then yes, you have the what I would like to term, ‘house effect’ (nothing to do with the awesome series btw, of which the latest season is already out).

The ‘vacation effect’ is only limited to its self-explanatory name. Hence, if it’s a normal workday, and you don’t have the urge to leave home, you have the ‘house effect’ and not the ‘vacation effect’. The vacation effect may not necessarily confine you within the four walls of your house and in fact may encourage you to expand your social network suddenly to random strangers and the like. All in the name of holiday...basically, doing anything but work.
So, there you have it, another quack diagnosis which should not be used as a substitute for your medical doctor’s opinion. I shall not be responsible if your boss/teacher tosses out your excuse for being absent with any of the syndromes mentioned above.

Maybe I should do a medical degree...