Knowledge into Action

Yes folks... More of Marcia's musings...

I'm currently (theoretically) studying. The fact that Exams are looming in my face doesn't have half the motivating ability as one would think...  This is simply an example of the phenomenon where: we know, but we don't do.

Knowledge into action. 

Example:

I am a smoker (not actually), I read the warning labels on the pack. I hear horror stories on the news and see lung tumors being excised on television shows, my niece in medical school keeps telling me to stop, I have a daughter and obviously don't want to die in the near future (I am also, coincidentally an amazing aunt, and woman,and I am loved very dearly by the author of this blog). I know I should stop, but why don't I? Why??

I am a student. Who needs to study (this one is me), I know these exams count 60% of my course mark and yet I nap during the day, go for walks, and study very little. I know I should study, why don't I?

An Ingrid Michaelson song also stirred my interest in this phenom. The song is called Lady in Spain and the lyrics of which I speak go like this

"I am in love with a boy
Manufactured to destroy
So I shall Unravel my love
Like an old red woolen glove"

She knows. So she does. But in reality, we all know it didn't go down like that. She cried, and ate ice cream and watched Dirty Dancing a million times (Yes, I am addicted to New Girl, Zooey (Jess) is quite simply... A boss).

I wrote a song in my youth (Stop the judging now!) with the line,

"To know and to do
are two things far removed"

Nike would like us to believe that it as simple as 'Just do[ing] it'. But its not. We all know that.

We do things that are bad for us, while knowing we should stop. We sin, even though sin is a violation of the bond between us and God, we know exactly what we're doing. We love people we know we shouldn't. We seek approval from people we know shouldn't matter. We know! We know what we're doing when we destroy ourselves and sabotage our exam efforts by writing blog posts instead of studying. Why do we do it?

Maybe the answer is motivation. We need the motivation of a minor heart attack and the resulting concerned wife and family to lose weight and stop treating our bodies like playgrounds. We need to see the damage a person is doing to us to finally say enough is enough and take a (sometimes permanent) hiatus from the relationship. We need to see that the exam is tomorrow and so we need to pull an all nighter to get it all done.

This I'll-run-only-if-there-is-a-lion-chasing-me approach to life is self-destructive.

Don't get me wrong, there are people out there who can just say no. Those who stop smoking cold turkey  and the like. But they are the logical minority in this emotion driven world.

That's it. Emotion. It feels good to sin, so we do it. We are in toxic relationships because they do something for us, so we stay, we smoke because it relieves our stress and gives us something to do to break up the day, it feels good. But when the brain kicks in and has to fight a moerse battle with the rest of you to get control... It stops feeling good and all you feel is guilt and shame and "whats wrong with me? Why am I being stupid?". What then? Then...

Then we have to realise that its human nature to do stupid, self-destructive things...

And we must forgive ourselves...

To end off, I'd like to leave you with a portion of a very beautiful poem by Emily Bronté;

The prisoner

intense the agony--
When the ear begins to hear, and the eye begins to see;
When the pulse begins to throb, the brain to think again;
The soul to feel the flesh, and the flesh to feel the chain.

In other words, it hurts like hell when you come to your senses, your ears, they hear again, your eyes, they see again, your brain finally kicks in, your soul wants change, but your flesh feels chains. 

Couch Out...

Ingrid Michaelsock

I know her name is Ingrid Michaelson... And why would I know this? Because she is my current obsession of  musical nature.  Hipster to the core, all the way to her very attractive spectacles (not that her specs are her core but you... yeah... you know what I mean).

She has a new album coming out... So brace yourselves... The Ingrid Posts are coming...

Hi5 all you game of throne-ers who understood that reference... For the rest of you...

Yes so... Here is video with Ingrid and her sock puppet... Yes, she has a sock puppet (named Ingrid Michaelsock), yes I know you want to name your children after her... Even your sons... Having a female name will only serve to make them stronger... Anywho, Couch must return to her studying... 

Fare thee well  

OH! Video! *Starts whistling....

Here is one of her older songs that is currently being butchered by yours truly:

Okay... Now I'll bounce... GOOB-eye

My friend, Phillip's blog: Cityhill Seeds - Planting for the future. Do it.

Refugee Mother and child

We did this poem in Matric and its been haunting me today...

No Madonna and Child could touch
that picture of a mother's tenderness
for a son she soon will have to forget.

The air was heavy with odors
of diarrhea of unwashed children
with washed-out ribs and dried-up
bottoms struggling in labored
steps behind blown empty bellies.

Most mothers there had long ceased
to care but not this one; she held
a ghost smile between her teeth
and in her eyes the ghost of a mother's
pride as she combed the rust-colored
hair left on his skull and then -
singing in her eyes - began carefully
to part it... In another life
this would have been a little daily
act of no consequence before his
breakfast and school; now she
did it like putting flowers
on a tiny grave.

-Chinua Achebe

Socially awkward penguin

Ladies and Gentlemen,


That is me. I am a left-facing penguin, with one outstretched wing on a blue background. That is me.


I was born this way as a regular Adeli penguin.



Over time I became this:





Here, have a look if you don't believe me.

AND FINALLY...  

So folks... Thats it. If you'd like to find out more....Know your meme - Socially Awkward Penguin

The 'Exactly" moment

Ah... The exactly moment. The opportunity to say it has filled many with joy at being understood , it has saved many a person from an uncomfortable conversation and has been the catalyst for many a beautiful friendship... Don't believe me?

See the following situations for proof:

Person A trips over laces. Gets up. Looks around. "Nobody saw that" 
Person B "Nobody saw what?"
Person A "Exactly!"
And both went on to live happy, full, productive lives.





Person C "Blah, blah, blah, and that's how I got your sister pregnant. It was accidental, I'm so sorry..."
Person D (Big, scary ass guy who wasn't listening at all) "Sorry about what?"
Person C (seeing an exit, takes it) "Exactly!"
Person D "..."
And person D was confused but quickly got over it while Person C lived to see another day.






See what I mean? The exactly moment... (The moment following the exactly...)
It is a moment of understanding between two people, many, many things are said in one word:
"That was embarrassing and for your sake I will forget that it happened."
"I actually heard what you said, I just don't want to talk about it"
"I don't feel like repeating myself" <-- Not the greatest use for the moment but hey, different strokes
"I would like to change the topic"

At times the moment is misused, mostly because of ignorance, or because of an avoidance policy with regards to difficult conversations.

Here is an example of how to turn an Exactly FAIL into an Exactly WIN.

"What did you say?" 
"Ex...a..ctly?"
"No, really, what did you say?"
"Oh! I was declaring my undying love for Justin Beiber"

"Your undying love for who?!"




"Exactly!"







"Hmmmm... Um... Okay"

*And there is a dual exhale of relief. From Red because he wasn't forced to hate Orange on sheer principle. From Orange because he managed to retain what little street cred he was in possession of. 




You see, when using the exactly moment as a save, remember, BS baffles brains...
With that, Ladies and Gentlemen... I leave you. Hopefully for not as long as the last time... Until we meet again...

Couch Out

Opera on a Proxy Server

Greetings to cyberspace at large...

A family quite dear to my heart advocates the use of Opera. Personally I've always been a Chrome girl but hey,   try anything once right? Upon downloading it and setting it up to work with the faulty Proxy Server UCT has blessed us with -with my ninja tech skills- I encountered difficulty. Turns out it was a typo on my part... However after searching far and wide I found this:

Opera on a Proxy server

While in reality, I am aware that almost no one will find this useful... This is the internet and we all know how important reality is here...

#justsaying

Bye Bye 

Soon...

This is me...

Promising a new blog post soon...

See! The cat agrees...

Just Saying...

Late for me...

It has been an age and a half since last I gave Girl In The Purple Trench Coat some love (And by that, I don't mean me, I mean me. I mean the blog.) Thus I conclude that it is infact....Late For Me...

Um... About me... Exams... Done. Passed. The fabled, hated and feared First Semester... HAS BEEN CONQUERED...  *pause for applause

I'm home now. Been home for a few weeks. Since the 7th of June... Good Lord! Its the 6th today I've been here for nearly a month! My 45 days are coming to an end... Bittersweet.

Hmmm... I believe that I should speak about home. In this post. ,<Yes... *strokes chin. Good plan Couch. Good plan.> I shall speak of the meaning of home and discuss Pulp Fiction. No, Pulp Fiction will be discussed in a separate post. It deserves that much.

Home:

What is home??  According to Daughtry it is "The place where [he] belongs. Where love has always been enough for [him]". Home... Home... Home... Home is home. Is it a place or a feeling. I will stay ambivalent on that matter... We can all decide for ourselves. Is home the place you get real food?? The place where your laundry disappears off your floor the minute it drops? The place where people care when you get ill instead of insincere "get well soon-s"? The place you get hugs on demand? The place that's quiet when you're gone? The place where they love you? Yes.

Is it one place that is unchanging? Can one have multiple homes? There's a saying "You can't go home again.".   Or is home where they love you? Wherever it may be? I favor that last one. Home is where there is love. Where they love you. As to what Love is? I don't know. Personally, I run from it. Its just my instinct. Its ineffective... But you cant fault a girl for trying. So... Home is a place where they love you. Its why leaving home is bittersweet. I have known and loved these people and this little part of Africa I have colonized and call my own for 18 years of my life. Yet... I miss people that I've only known for 6 months, and even less. Maybe its that horrific circumstances bond people... That is the idea behind orientation and initiation and such.    But... If my world was crashing, I would... Bad example. I'd pretend it wasn't happening, till I was forced by someone Dear to look at it. I wouldn't run anywhere in particular. So... Is Cape Town home?? Hmmm... I wouldn't answer that with a resounding yes. Nor would I answer it with a resounding No. Nothing that resounds. I would say... Almost.

I am very very very sad to leave home, with all its comforts (food with taste, hugs on tap. Someone doing my laundry FOR me. And love that's unconditional.). However, I am very very keen to get back to my degree, and to my friendships. 7 weeks is a long time. Maybe the bittersweet-ness is because I am a creature of habit.  6 months is a longer time. Sigh... They are both theories with merit, so we'll hybridize them. Either way. I love being home. And home is loving me back. I will love Next Semester <--- note the caps.

But maybe that's because I'm just loving like that.












Or not.

Grown Ups

I have been thinking ("Gaston! That is a very dangerous task!")* while listening to teenage rock (Paramore, Bowling for Soup and the like…) and thinking teenage thoughts along the lines of my outfit for tomorrow and my unhealthy attachment to the colour purple. I've been thinking.

I've been thinking. What is a grown up? What makes a person an adult? What makes a person able to vote rationally and reasonably in government elections? To decide such monumental thing. (My country just recently had municipal elections) but as the title implies, this isn't about voting, its about people and growing up. What does it mean to grow up? I'm not going to be stupid and mention vertical growth because, I'm a shrimp and like I said, that would be stupid. What does it mean to grow up? What does it mean to grow up? WHAT DOES IT MEAN TO GROW UP??? This question has been assailing me lately; I don't quite know what it means. Not yet anyway. What do we know already? Let's explore…

 
 

Growing up is about leaving youth behind, youth being the period where people prepare for adult responsibilities, define their identities and make choices about their futures with regards to vocation, marriage, politics, religion etc.-As per the theories outlined by James Marcia, and Errikson. Don't ask me what Errikson's first name is. I don't know- Growing up is coming out of this… process. On the otherside. A person. Childhood Is for enjoyment, for learning how to walk, to talk, to think hypothetically (As per Piaget's theories) to gain basic skills needed to function in society. Adolescence is for physical maturation our brains develop but as we experienced and as has been documented, the emotional sides of our brains develop fastest in our teenage years, the rational "Hey, maybe he actually DOESN'T love me and is just trying to get into my pants" side of us is slower in developing resulting in this: Mom "He's using you sweetie. Trust me, this isn't love. He'll be a vague memory one day. He isn't the great love of your life. You're 15 years old. Daughter  "Oh but I love him!". What comes afterwards? You're no longer a child. You can walk, talk, ride a bike. You now have been through puberty, the ugly phase, acne, backne. Now what? How do you get from here, to adulthood. To a place where you can make decisions on your own. Long term, life changing and deciding decisions. Now what?

 

 
 

I find myself at this place. I'm not yet an adult. I don't want to be. I hold no mistaken notions about the awesomeness of adulthood. I know it sucks some days. And the responsibilities are… I know its not as awesome as its made out to be. I know. Yet I no longer fit into that category of giggling around corners and listening to Paramore, (They are nice for nostalgia, however, I can no longer relate). I am no longer dictated to by the hormones that have taken so many before me and will take many after me. As a result of this forceful ejection from this sphere of life in which I found such profound comfort I feel equally profound discomfort in this… region of in-between.

 
 

 

I don't wish to wake up tomorrow and find myself settled and fully matured. That removes the awesomeness from this journey called life. Because as has been many a time recited in lame cheesy cards, it's the journey. Not the destination.

 

 
 

I have found that growing up is a series of realisations. I realise that certain things just aren't okay for me. I realise the kind of people I do and don't want in my life. I realise how choices I have made and that have been made for me have consequences. Everything has consequences. The biggest one for me thus far has been the realisation of the fact that I have choice [On a side note, read East of Eden. It WILL change your life. I'm not being facetious here. It will.] Even if life dealt you a crappy set of cards, Timshel à Thou Mayest. You have choice. I have choice.

 

 
 

I am still ambivalent about the concept of self-knowledge. I don't fully know myself yet. My self-awareness is improving. Slowly. But surely. However, how can we profess to know ourselves if we're ever changing? Who is Marcia? Ask me tomorrow and I'll have a different answer for you. However the fundamentals remain the same. Maybe that's what matters. I don't know… I just don't know. I know what I am. The jury is still out on who I am. I know who I want to be though. That's step 1.

 

 
 

Come to think of it, I think that's an adult. Someone who fully, honestly and thoroughly understand that in everything, there is a choice. No such thing as "It just happened" and the other go-to excuses we use, giving away responsibility for our failures… In everything there is a choice. And every choice has repercussions. (I have a physics exam on Monday and it must be said… ) For every Action there is an Equal but Opposite reaction. When people can make choices and understand that there will be consequences to follow as a result of them. Someone that knows themselves. Someone who knows their soul, in other words, someone who understands what's important to them, what they believe. What they love. That's who I hope to be one day. I hope to one day be an adult who my loved ones can be proud of. Someone my amazing mother will be proud to have raised. Who this unsure 18 year old girl sitting on her bed musing about life will be proud to become. I want to grow up. But not too fast. Where's the fun in that??

  

Hiding my Heart

You know that feeling? Where you can't love a song because its like the person crawled inside your head, stole stuff, and put music to it? I feel that way about this song.

Brandi Carlile. Hiding my heart.

Its not like that Jason Mraz song where I loved it because I "saw the video" ---> It was on So you think You can Dance. <---

Its... Ah, I can't love it. Because I adore it.

Here are the lyrics:

So this is how the story went
I met someone by accident
That blew me away
That blew me away

It was in the darkest of my days
When you took my sorrow and you took my pain
And buried them away, you buried them away



And I wish I could lay down beside you
When the day is done
And wake up to your face against the morning sun
But like everything I've ever known
You'll disappear one day
So I'll spend my whole life hiding my heart away


You dropped me off at the train station
Put a kiss on top of my head
You watched me wave
Watched me wave
Then you went on home to your skyscrapers
Neon lights and waiting papers
That you call home
You call it home



And I wish I could lay down beside you
When the day is done
And wake up to your face against the morning sun
But like everything I've ever known
You'll disappear one day
So I'll spend my whole life hiding my heart away


I woke up feeling heavy hearted
I'm going back to where I started
The morning rain
The morning rain
And although I wish that you were near
That same old road that brought me here
Is calling me home
Is calling me home


And I wish I could lay down beside you
When the day is done
And wake up to your face against the morning sun
But like everything I've ever known
You'll disappear someday
So I'll spend my whole life hiding my heart away
And I can't spend my whole life hiding my heart away

Adele does her own version as well. 

Does Brandi Carlisle's voice sound familiar at all?? South Africans --> It was used in the tracker advert where the woman ages backwards. To all the other awesome people (From Hungary, Nederlands and other super awesome exotic locations) Her other song, "The Story" was used in Grey's Anatomy Season 3 and Callie sang it as the finale in the musical episode, season 7.


Anywhoo, just popping in to share the awesomeness that is Brandi Carlile. Quick facts before I  disappear.

The Beautiful Brandi is 29 years old (Turns the big 3-0 on the first of June) she plays the Banjo (as well as guitar and piano. Less exotic but still awesome). At 16 she sang backup for an Elvis impersonator.

She dropped out of School because she has ADD.She named her horse after her guitar. She lives in Washington State (The rainy place Twilight and Grey's Anatomy are both set in.)


Okay, I need to study. Exams in two weeks, oh, no, in one week.


Wish me luck.
Wens me Geluk 
Kívánnak szerncsét
मुझे शुभकामनाएँ
me souhaiter bonne chance
wünscht mir Glück


Bye for now...

Hi Low

I am just popping in, as I procrastinate.
Well not really I just thought these things should be shared.
And I'm procrastinating.

Nominated for best picture EVER!
Snape getting his Model on.
Marcy Likey.

The Piece de Resistance. Thou knowest who thou beist. A gift.

<Awkward silence>

Stuff's about to go down! Jellies, beware.

BOOOOOM!!!!! Aren't your bones breaking with the sheer force of this awesomeness?? Mine are. 

You're welcome. Goodnight.

Couch, Out

Chemistry (What!? Why?! ...who?)

WARNING: Rant ahead. 
The word Chemistry will be used many, many, many times.
Be prepared. Or wait for the next post.


I have just returned from the room of a 2nd year asking for help with chemistry, with 3 of my friends. Ive been listening to Adele, and I've been watching people, (in a non-stalkery way) in the res dining hall, and thus I have been wondering about that it-just-happened breed-of-baby making wonder... Chemistry.

Well... Back to chemistry. The first thing that comes to mind is... French people. I mean... They're french. People here seem to think I speak exotic languages, Ive been called exotic a few times (only since I've been here) and the awesome second year (a fellow durbanite) spoke french to me today. Just saying... French people are attractive when they breathe.... Just saying.

But why? Not the french people, but chemistry. I watched Feast Of Love and the adulterous woman in the movie said that she believed that love is just an illusion to bring more screaming babies into the world...  Chemistry... Isn't something that I can honestly say that I've experienced, in hindsight anyway. Anything and everything close has made me miserable. Chemistry holds the power of life and death. In the words of my Chem prof, "And then you die". At least once every lecture, he speaks of how one can be killed by chemistry "Oxygen is actually poisonous", "The best way to get rid of all the pollution in the world would be to remove all the nitrogen from the air, we'd all die but that's inconsequential."  "If you ever wanna kill someone, stop their redox reactions". He's... An interesting specimen that one. His subject matter makes me miserable. Chemistry with people makes people miserable, or pregnant.

I have figured out why. (cos that's how I roll). Chemistry is not Physics. Physics makes sense. The ball is being dropped at an acceleration of 9.8 m/s, initial velocity is 0, displacement is 36m downwards. Figure out final velocity. It makes sense. Its logic. Chemistry on the other hand is not. An unknown gas is in  container of volume 2.5 cm3 (red flag. Wrong unit), at a pressure of 759 mmHg (again, wrong unit, divide by 760, a completely aribrary number but do it anyway) and so it goes. It defies logic. Chemistry defies logic.

So does love but really... This post will not veer off down that path, don't want things to get lame... Chemistry is everything, yet has the ability to reduce us to nothing. Chemistry is what draws you to the smoking Neanderthal who wears the same T shirt at least once a week but who wears different shoes everyday, yet its what is making your femurs grow right this instant, and if you're over 18 and female, its what caused them to stop growing. Its what you have to stand aside for sometimes because Compatibility never beats Chemistry in the short-term (Just like Scissors never beats Rock...ever).

So here it is, my theory is that Chemistry... Doesn't work for us logical creatures. (Yes, I am including myself in that category). It makes us miserable. The general uneducated public (whose minds were blown to smithereens by inception) enjoy and revel in it because its like a raging river. The only way to enjoy it and to not well... Die, is to go with it. I don't go with things.

Homework for the week: If it doesn't hurt you, if it doesn't waste precious time better spent doing other things like studying, if it won't break your heart in the long run or hurt others... Then go with it. Whatever it may be. Being brave enough to ask for tuition, going for a run, laughing when a joke is funny no matter how un-PC it may be, eating a biscuit because you want to or talking to the hot Captonian guy next to you in the Science com-labs.

This week... I will go with it.

Worker's Day

Sunday, was the 1st of May. That means Workers day here in Sunny South Africa, (Labour Day in America however, celebrates the same thing but was moved to September, as having it on the 1st of May would be seen as commemorating the May Day riots and that would be... Bad) and International Worker's day in other places on this world. It is celebrated to commemorate the 1886 Haymarket Massacre in Chicago. Here's the Wiki link if you're interested. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/International_Workers'_Day).

So... This morning I just watched Fight Club. I do not exaggerate when I say that it is the epic-est movie I have ever seen in my 18 years and 3 weeks of extra-uterine life.

I mean REALLY!! How awesome can you get!!
"Use Soap." *Commence Hysterical Screaming

Strangely, after watching Jack/Tyler shoot himself in the jaw, all I thought of was this guy:

Maximilien Robespierre
Grandé dictateur sanguinaire
(Big, bloodthirsty dictator)

Robespierre was a big-wig (Yes, it was on purpose, yes, I am that cool) in the French Revolution leading the Jacobins - They sound familiar If you've ever seen becoming Jane "My husband had a previous engagement your honor. With Madamé le guillotine." Later in the scene she says something about the Jacobin's guillotining her husband. The 'She' in question is their cousin who winds up marrying Jane's brother - They were extremists, anti-monarchists and well... Revolutionists.

Storming the Bastille 14 July 1789

They implemented the Reign of Terror, (September 5, 1793, to July 17, 1794) killed all their opposition, the monarchy, the aristocracy and other people who were just unlucky. It ended on the day that guy (pictured above) was executed, by a monster of his own making (I love Irony, I will dedicate an entire post to it in the near future). 

Before they liberated his head from its bodily responsibilities (Like keeping him alive "I am Robespierre's Medulla Oblongata, without me, he cannot keep his own heart beating...") he caused the death of Marie Antionette (Which I take personally, such Fabulous-ness shouldn't have died so anti-climatically like thousands of peasants before and after her. BTW: She never ever said "Let them eat cake". She was only ever properly brain-dead after they beheaded her, while she was young and unprepared, she was not stupid.) and approximately 50 000 people, when his time came and people turned on him and he was arrested, he tried to kill himself by shooting himself in the head. Only... He got the jaw.

Like in Fight Club? Where he shot himself in the head, but didnt... And shot himself in the jaw?? See??

Ladies and Gentlemen, the joys of a feminine brain, everything is linked, and everything is related to everything. Fight Club and the French Revolution...

I'm just saying
Couch out...

YES! It is I!

This phrase made my day when a fellow medical student of mine walked into a chemistry tut saying, "Yes, It is I." He entered with style. And on this day which is my first day back at medical school, what better to talk about than stylish entrances?

Upon "Googling "Stylish Entrances" all I happened upon were pictures of models, Kate Bosworth, some super-awesome houses, and... Is that Selena Gomez?? So.. I'll have to dig deep within to find something worth putting on this daily-less-shameful-and-less-secret-blog...

In medical school we're taght to break a word/phrase up... So here it is...

Style:

What is style? Style is awesomeness. Style is a mode of expression. Be it clothing, a way of writing, talking, even walking. So, by that definition (thanks wiki) everything that breathes and thinks (and therefore is) has style. The awesomeness of their style is a subjective thing though... <Wait... Why am I talking about this again... Okay... Just discussing awesome entrances in general...>. In conclusion, (my apologies, I'm a bit scattered in the mental department today) Style is a mode of expression, there a ba-zillion outlets for expression... And the hope is that one day, when we no longer care about what people think of you, [Case-in-point: The hot boy next to you in the BHS practical test] we can express ourselves unashamedly [i.e. You can natter to your bag, asking it why it had to empty its contents all over the floor when all you want is to leave the venue, and when there is a line of people behind you wanting to get their bags as well. Pick up the stuff and leave in a huff (which lasts 10 seconds)] and be proud of our styles, even if the style is talking to inanimate objects [By the by... You... Is me...]. Enter with that air of confidence and assurance of your own awesomeness (I'm not lame enough to presume to tell you how to get that, it comes with time...) and thou shalt enter with style, although... falling into a room head-long with your skirt halfway up your back would be a stylish entrance too... Just undesirably so...

Moving swiftly forward!



Geddit?? Its a stigma and a... Style!
Its lame to me too...
No need to look at me in that tone of voice...

 Entrance:

Entrance in this case is a verb. The act of well... entering.


In conclusion, I now conclude that to enter stylishly is to enter with style. To enter in a way "youniqley" you. <Stole that from a Police Sunglasses ad, I need me some of those>

I entered Cape Town again... Besieged by luck so great I can only thank the Big Guy who lives upstairs, I entered it with things falling, stumbling, while trying to look cool and succeeding for 60% of the time I endeavoured to achieve coolness... However, how I enter doesn't really matter, I have a sign on my door bearing my name and that too, doesn't really matter, its kept in place by prestik, it will be removed, and life will go on. I know its pithy and lame, but whether or not I fell down those first stairs or had a good-looking friend help me with my 20 kg case and thusly descended with grace <I can spell it, I have difficulty carrying it out though... But never ever forget... I can spell it!>. Nor does it matter if I leave here In June in a blaze of glory having aced all my exams or whether I leave in tears with boxes falling everywhere because... The great tragedy of life is that... It goes on. And people forget, and fake remembrance on Facebook Chat. The point is that YOU will remember and to make those memories awesome.

Now to shake up the routine..

My bestest buddy and I watched Easy A during my break... It was awesome. Just saying

Terminological inexactitude. Does it sound familiar? Does it sound witty? Does it smell like Cigars?

If you answered yes to any of the above then yes! It is Winston Churchill! Circa 1906, he released that bubble of amazingness into the world... It is now used as a euphemism for the less PC "You, sir, are lying through your ugly teeth!"...

Ja... Thats it from me today
Have exams down the tracks like a speeding train...

Final notes:

• Planes... ARE AWESOME!!! Flying is entering with style! It lacks the anticlimax of... A bus or something equally anticlimactic...
• Reading glasses, while awesome and sexy-librarian-ey, give me migraines... (Annoyingly pronounced <mee-granes> which is stupid if you ask me, but... granted, no one did, its all the American TV... I need to rather watch British medical TV... If we're gonna talk like them might as well... Randomness Over.

Couch - Out

I've got this beating in my chest...

Its rhythmic.

There are certain people, whom I love, they are called friends.
A friend of mine, well, very fond acquaintance has this... thing about friends. She says she only has two. A friend to her is someone who she would tell about her sobbing her lungs and heart out the nigh before alone in her room. People she hangs out with everyday, are groupies, with levels of familiarity ranging from friend (there's only one with us in Cape Town), fond acquaintances to acquaintances. After being initially hurt by her not considering me a friend, (although its not as if i had poured out my soul to her or anything of the sort, its that its... well... its offensive) I re-evaluated my friendships and found out, that I too don't have that many. And the majority of them are up here, in Sunny Durban. The people I have there, I love, but I haven't let them in fully yet, for varying reasons. What constitutes a friend, I used to think it was someone you trusted enough to ask for a favour or for help, this is especially true for me because I am not in the habit f asking for help, I will struggle on my own until I get it, one thing I'm having to learn in Med School is to work smart and not quite so hard... I saw on a show called "Pretty Little Liars" (I'm only 18 okay... 18  and 14 days... Just saying) and she said that friendship is feeling comfortable enough with someone to be angry with them and know that they'll still love you the next day... I believe that too, although the latter depends on the kind of relationship you have with a person. However, if physics has taught me anything... Its that there are many different formulas to find the same thing... Combine them if possible.

So... What is friendship? Friendship is love. That has been established. Friendship is a pact, (Even Sheldon Cooper knows this...). Friendship is a... State of... Of... Of... Awesomeness, where forgiveness, acceptance, help, and hours of talking crap reside... In electron orbitals .... No, that's Chemistry. Its sounds very very corny, and cheesy and other stuff that there is no short supply of at McDs, and it sounds... Like I've been drinking (I would actually LOVE to see that! A drunk Marcia... Would be... A spectacle to behold). But these are my musings, thanks to Nicole they have moved on from the vortex of frustration they swirled in, Friendship is something that is a gift, its... God-sent, and sometimes its long lasting, sometimes its seasonal, sometimes its transient, but while its there, its a blessing, many things are... almost it, lesser forms of it or mutations of it, but few things are the real thing.

Aren't they lovely??
 Then... they will age, and get creepy.
 However, while they are kittens, they make me happy... (To look at, not to touch.)
I don't do cats.

I thank the Large Guy who Resideth Upstairs for the people he has gifted to me.

A few of my People have blogs now. Read them. There are others, (blogs. and People.) They will be posted at another time, the list will be compiled.

squarebuttonholes.blogspot.com - (The Bestest best friend in the whole wide world)
herecomesthepunchline.blogspot.com - (The oracle of knowledge, the girl whisperer, The Luke)

Happy Easter for yesterday. Its the single most important event in history...

Peace
Marcia

Awesome Day

You know when a day is ending? And its going for 12... And you're sad to see it go??

That was today.

I spent today with the awesomest person in the world (Beware, here comes the corny...) She is the Ying to my Yang (Geddit?? Geddit?? Because I'm studying medicine, like Christina Yang?? And she has a Chinese guy way back when in her lineage?? So she's Ying??) We are not joined at the hip, we are joined at the soul, and yes, I know you're all throwing up in your mouths right now, and thats okay. I'm to content, drunk on caffine, sugar, happiness and universe juice to care.

This...

Plus lots of this

And loads of these thrown in...

Equals this... i.e. HAPPY MARCY :D

 

Today was so awesome that I have immortalized it in a journal, carrying it around as I went about my business, waiting backstage for my Bestest friend as she went about her business on stage. Just throwing it out there... She's awesome. I love her. Moving on.

I learned the art of Body Language tonight. I guided her as I learned. It isn't mastered quite yet... But at Dinner (Westville has the awesomest restaurants, just saying) but its fascinating! Turning that observant-ness into perceptiveness. Its super awesome. Saw best friends in the making, farting in the back-seat really brings boys together. Saw soul-mates in their quiet comfortable synchrony. It was a beautiful night. And yet again, I am near-delirious with fatigue, so the inhibitions... They are down. Well they are never fully down, thats not how I roll. I'm just gonna post awesome pictures now...

I mean really?!? Its the pope! He's awesome! AND he's gangster!

 

10/10 for AMAZINGNESS

The invention of the captioned image is a wonderful one, the world will never be the same...

So... I am heading off to... Well not bed. I'm just leaving the blog. till tomorrow (Fun Fact: Bidding someone Adeiu means "Till Heaven", typically said when one doesn't plan on seeing another... Well, one, again.) So I will just say, Au Reviour, Italian for, Until we meet again (PSH! NO! I did not learn that from 13 going on 30! I dont know what you're talking abou...)

Bye! :D