This is quite retarded. I feel quite retarded too. I’m trying to write my personal statement for Murdoch’s vet school. I think my essay should have more depth and needs more things other than my feelings, my time at the vet’s, and why it stimulates me in a way that business cannot. I’m quite embarassed to call this my personal statement. It sounds cliche.

I kind of pity the people I have employed to read my essay, though they have all done a marvelous job of editing it and squeezing out nice things to say about it. Still I am ashamed to send it to a vet student, because they are going to say, ‘hey this is not actually what happens you know!’ or not be so nice and say, ‘hey! you made that shit up! LIES!!’.

POO. DUNG. POOP.

It’s harder than it seems and more worrying than I thought. To be where I am now, and to be one step closer to standing at a forked road where both roads lead into dark forests, makes me more anxious than anything else. Sometimes I just want to hide in my apartment, be messy, not clean up after myself, and stream a million movies, instead of facing the horrifying prospects. I’m not emotional or anything, but I guess I’m just acknowledging the reality of the imminent future. I have been whining and whining and whining about this for ages, I know. But all these things really do scare me just as much as having burglars and thieves in my building, so thus I whine.

There are so many other things that worry me, so many things that make me run back under my covers and hug Watson to death, but obviously I’m not going to attempt to bore you with them. But I guess the thing I want to learn from this, from me being afraid, is that there is nothing to be afraid of, nothing to worry about. God is here. God will take care of everything. God still does work for the good of those who love him.

I feel as if I keep repeating myself. I do that all the time I guess.

Art of the Trench

I would like a Burberry Baby pleaaase!!!

Anyway, go check out The Art of the Trench. It’s soo amazing cool, if you are the type of person who gets excited easily. There are so many pictures of people with wonderfully good-looking trenches, that it makes me want to go to Thailand and get one too, since I can’t afford one here.

Yuccck, it’s so late and I’m not at the library. Poooo.

taken from The Satorialist.

THAT’S THE EXACT SET OF HEADPHONES I WANT TO GET FROM FREDFLARE! I’m crossing my fingers so hard, that they’ll still be in stock when I place my order. And now that I’ve seen it on someone else, it looks even better. I don’t really know whether the sound quality is wonderful, but hey, I’m no music student.  I’ve read good reviews about it though! I just REALLY REALLY like it.  I’m so happy that the ultimate friend in the states has agreed (I’m assuming she has) to be my headphones mule (I say that with a lot of love). I want a whole lot of other things, but since I’m going to Thailand and I can buy everything else there. But for now, I must have these headphones, thank you.

I love Goop!

Goop – Gwyneth Paltrow’s some sort of very cool blog. There’s stuff on clothes, cooking, places to go, things to do and stuff I don’t really read. She doesn’t update really often though, but I like!

These are a few of  my favourites from Goop.

Our church signboard at broadway.
The picture has been taken from Natania .

Every time I pass by this signboard, I remember how much God loves us. I remember how no cost was spared to bring us back to him and I remember how he works for the good of those who love him.

Just spoke to my wonderful friend who decided to share her experience as an intern at A BIRTHING SUITE. zomg. She said she heard the woman scream, ‘kill it’, repeatedly before yelling out to ‘kill me kill me’. It doesn’t sound particularly pleasant.

Mum, I can’t believe you went through all that THREE TIMES! I would have given up at Leanne.

Just quickly..

I remember when I did a government unit and tilted slightly to the left and how my loving family dubbed me, “comrade”. Obviously, being called comrade wasn’t fun and so my left-winged mindset soon dissolved.

On Tuesday, during lecture, we were shown a youtube of the story of Shell and the Ogoni people. Though you must think by now, I’ve grown out of my death-to-big-businesses mode, but I find it hard to progress from that, because when at uni, this is what we are told and taught! Big businesses normally whilst going on with their business, produce negative externalities. Hence, they should compensate the people who are affected by the externalities! Doesn’t it make sense? Maybe this issue is like an iceberg, and we are only the tip. So trying to fully comprehend it fully would just hurt my little brain.

I’m no where near understanding majority of the political issues that arise and don’t worry, I’m also no where near turning into comrade again. Therefore, I’m not sure why I’m so wound up. Well, not really wound up. Anyway, I know being left-winged means more than just frowning upon big businesses. So this rant, does not give my family the right to christen me with another horrible nickname.

I guess my point is quite stupid. But yeah, go search youtube for ‘Shell and Nigera’. It’s really sad, I bet you’ll swing in the same direction as me!

Nothing in my hand I bring,
Simply to the cross I cling;
Naked, come to Thee for dress;
Helpless look to Thee for grace;
Foul, I to the fountain fly;
Wash me, Savior, or I die.

-Au­gus­tus M. Top­la­dy, Rock of Ages, 1776

I really do love going to church. I love it going I go there because I enter the building unsuspecting and normally panting from the walk there, and then when service starts, when songs are sung, and when the sermon gets preached, I realise how much I need God and much more importantly how much God loves us all. And then the day just transforms from a mediocre day that started off with a sleep-in, to a day that sings and points to God.

Today, again I dragged myself out of bed after an hour sleep-in. Soaking in the sprinkles of spring, I lugged my heavy body to the little church full of the smell of lunch being made. Songs were sung, greetings made, and then the sermon started. Coincidentally enough, it was on almost the same passage of the Bible that OCF studied on friday, Hebrews 11 – 12:3. It was wonderfully enlightening listening to the passage being preached outside the parametres of OCF. Ian, our rector, talked about running the race, about preserving, and about fixing our eyes on Jesus. I know I’ll do no justice to the passage, and probably get many bits of it wrong, so I won’t even attempt to reproduce what he said. But what stuck to me was the last bit, about considering Jesus, remembering Him, and fixing our eyes on Him.

The future makes me want to pee in my pants, I have so many things to do, so many things to say, and so many uncertainties to plan for, that if I sit down and contemplate them, I might actually cry. But when I think about all that I have learnt (or all the bits I try to soak in), Psalm 73 comes into mind. The Psalmist talks about how God is always with me, how He holds my right hand and is my counsel. And reminds me that though all things might fail, and I might not end up where I want so badly to be, Jesus is my strength of my heart and my portion. Thus, though everything scares me and renders me weak and tearful, if I just stop panicking and focus on Him, though the race is long, hard, and very painful, I will be reminded that my Jesus is always with me.

Simply to the cross I cling.

I’ve grown this blog from just a handful of subscribers to a ripe number of naught. Maybe I should apologise for my lack of posts and neglect, but hey I should be able to do what I want with my blog, right?

These past few months have been eventful to say the least, but then again, when have I ever just wanted to say the least? I wish I could cram everything into a wordy blog post and help you imagine the everything, but alas it’s too hard and boring. Hopefully, I don’t sound disjointed trying to document the excitement that bubbles.

Firstly, I successfully won the bid and thus bought myself a colourful little holga from ebay a million months ago and have yet to develop my first roll. I am fully aware of the fact that the first roll will be a disaster with pictures either taken with the cap on, or are horrendously blurry, or have disgusting colour filters the seep out their natural goodness. POO. All the same, it’s my first roll and I want it for keepsake. I think the second roll will be better yet. I know this isn’t wonderfully interesting, but I like fiddling with my light-leaked toy camera and I thought you might find my expensive thrill amusing.

I also finished my term as vice-president of OCF. Though I never ever use that title in the club except when trying to push for my opinions and steal thunders (heehee), I find it suitable for both comic relief and nostalgia  now. All the same, I am really glad that I picked this up. I remember before this all began, how we were coaxed in with Roopesh’s ’soft-centred chocolate cake’, and spent a whole afternoon discussing the future or the possible lack thereof. Luckily, that bleak little future we painted out that afternoon, turned out to be nothing of that sort. Instead, it’s been a pretty roller coaster-ry term. But through this, I think we have all gotten to know each other so wonderfully and yet disconcertingly well. I like that and thoroughly appreciate it.And though sometimes sacrifices were made, many times at our own expenses, I don’t believe it was in vain. Seeing where it was, and where it is now, I know that all the tears, sweat, blood, prayers, late night phone calls, consistent and obsessive e-mails, and sheer utter madness, was for something.

I hope from this you don’t gather that this was because of us, because of me, because of the product of our feeble hands and feet, it wasn’t. I think and truly believe that everything was because God allowed his ministry, his OCF, and his people to grow. God really was so wonderfully faithful through it all, and I know I’ve been so blessed to see it firsthand. I remember at the end of the Adelaide convention last year, I scribbled on my diary, ‘At the end of the day, it is God’s. Everything is God’s. I am nothing without God. He will do what he wants. All I can do is be ready when he calls.’. Now, I don’t know whether I was always ready, or whether I was ready enough, but I’m quite glad to be a tiny little instrument in God’s doings.

There is so much more to say, so much more to enlighten you on, so much more, but that unmade bed in the corner calls to be loved. I guess, the one thing I hope you gain from this is that God really made this term (and year) pretty brilliant.