Lady Luck Speaks

Desi dating and desires from the doctor of delight.

Tuesday, December 26, 2006

Xmas a la Luck!

Seasons Greetings - may the festive frivolity commence :D

Xmas a Luck's is always an interesting time. There is always the small matter of a visitor from foreign (read Lankan) climes. Since Lady Luck's favourite pastime is hospitality beyond comparison, the Xmas experience (for those who've not celebrated Xmas) is a joy she relishes, even if it requires the taming of a two-legged child-like irritant or two. Gifts are exchanged on Xmas morning, before the remainder of the Luck family enjoys their morning lie-in. This has been the way since yours truly was twelve - a rather tender age to start such ministrations, if I say so myself. Mind you, most twelve year olds are too busy with less wholesome fun & games to bother with Xmas dinner.

The fun chez Luck begins with the 'Xmas Shop', a task completed with the help of several retail outlets. The shop begins at Marks and Spencer's, a Jewish-owned national treasure paradoxically responsible for the best Pork, Sage and Onion stuffing in the business. A promotional Xmas pudding is purchased, along with Cornish/Channel-Island thick cream, laced with alcohol & a fat content above 48%. A suitably-British Xmas wouldn't be complete in lieu of said pudding or their evil-pied pastry cousins, so yours truly has to serve both with heavy heart, true to my abhorrance for all things mincemeat-related. It's a compensatory measure for not serving turkey, which I consider a dry, flavourless and aesthetically-challenged abomination of nature.

I wouldn't say 'boo' to a goose or, indeed, a duck (Gressingham/Pekin). Preparing the latter bundle of joy in a French bigarade/Chinese crispy style is something I'm very fond of. However, concessions need to be made - the unacquainted visitor is inclined to view the unfamiliar with suspicion, so I'm resigned to purchasing a posh Chicken (free range & organic) instead. In accordance with my heritage, I tend to be 'late' with regards to everything, so the Cornish French Hens & Label Rouge saplings are out by the time I get there. Alas, I settle for an M&S homeboy & prepare to do my baddest.

With the Laws of Leviticus broken, the tribulations continue. All basic ingredients are purchased in true-tight Asian style, from Tesco & Somerfield. Think potatoes, brussel sprouts, carrots and garlic - both fresh and pureed. I might get a packet of bread-sauce mix, skimmed milk & gravy granules whilst I'm out there, it's not like Sri Lankans to be fussed about non-spiced items anyway ;)

A little hedonism is pushed into the mix - a luxury dessert of the dark chocolate persuasion is purchased for the non-Xmas pudding eaters, courtesy of Waitrose or Sainsburys. This year's representative - Delice du Roi's Chocolate Mousse Torte. Highly recommended. Ditto the services of Waitrose for a fine-flavoured Xmas cheeseboard (green grapes, Membrillo, crackers & an assortment of goodies).

The port-filled cranberry jelly & 80% meat cocktail sausages were purchased from Head Fine Foods, in accordance with Real Meat Company protocols. Yours truly is known to support humane practices where items of consumption are concerned - Northfield Farm & Borough Market are excellent providers of free-range, organically-fed, non-clipped flavoursome foodstuffs.

A final visit is made to the Italian deli for the procurance of strongly-flavoured diced pancetta goodies. The raw ingredients are ready in good time for the magic to begin :D

Xmas dinner chez moi commences sans starter. The fuss of vol-au-vents and prawn cocktail is entirely irrelevant when you've got a garlic-roasted stuffed chicken with pancetta and lime-scented carcass in sitting right front of you! You might want to know I employed the Nigella-method of defrosting my chicken overnight in a bath of spiced onion and ginger water, prior to stuffing with sage & onion sausagemeat & massaging it with garlic butter and seasoning pre-roasting!

The chicken is served with garlic potatoes, fennel-scented sprouts, cumin & coriander roasted carrots & Kitul-treacle glazed pepper parsnips. The experience is rendered sublime with the provision of roast-chicken gravy, made with granules and roast-juices and a bread-sauce with black pepper, roasted cumin, mustard and caraway. The chipolatas are served post an evocative smoking with mustard and cumin, in accordance with Madhur Jaffrey's famous recipe. The aforementioned slightly-sweet cranberry jelly with port is kept onside for that spellbinding Mediterraenean kick!

A veritable feast unfolds before the eyes, before the desserts and cheeseboard make their entrance. Cashel Blue, White Stilton with Apricots, Orkney Cheddar, Lancaster Provender and Tofutti non-dairy cream cheese do indeed a fine cheeseboard make! Dinner is finished with the pulling of Xmas crackers, an SL coffee/two and a selection of chocolates. Platitudes are given, speeches are made and Xmas Day TOTP is watched. The Queen's Speech is over before the true mirth and merriment begins - read 'Living to Eat' for an account of Xmas Past, British Sri Lankan style :D

Incidentally, I got a digital camera & a Sanctuary gift set for Xmas. I guess that makes me a good girl then ;)

How did you do?


Tuesday, December 12, 2006


Romance and relationships are funny things, aren't they?

Not a day goes by without one of Lady Luck's friends letting her know about a quirk/a problem they have with regard to these matters. Some let me know of medical problems. Others prefer to disclose items of a more personal nature.

I thought I'd share a couple of these thoughts with you (anonymised, of course) & see what you made of it. Mr Rhythmic was certainly intrigued. Whether he wanted to subscribe to either theory is a different matter.

The first matter of intrigue is related to smell. Smell of the bodily kind, though thankfully of not of an unpleasant nature. I suppose 'scent' would be the best term for natural body odour (i.e. post-washing self and clothes). My little sister smells chocolate-y & the excess quantities of cocoa butter she's rubbed into her babysoft skin may well have have had something to do with it. According to Wikipedia, what I define as a 'scent' would be pheromonal - 'a chemical or set of chemicals produced by a living organism that transmits a message to other members of the same species'.

The theory goes that the female member of the human species sends out scented signals circa ovulation, to indicate availability for breeding. The male of the species is believed to undergo a frenzy termed 'estrus' at the same time - in common speak, we'd term it 'the horn'.

Either way, the availability of contraception means that we can fornicate for fun. This my friends, is where the 'smell theory' comes in - where certain friends of mine find it impossible to indulge in such frivolity unless mutual satisfaction with each other's 'scents' is present. If one partner is not satisfied (and all common causes of low libido are excluded), then 'mating' doesn't take place. I have tried my level best to suggest all sorts of libidinous measures where the partner isn't entirely repulsive to look at/spend time with - but none of these work (possessing me to think the 'scent' seeking is 'intrinsic') & my friends find their satisfaction solo/elsewhere. I myself have subscribed to the theory on occasion - my last relationship was spent avoiding the other party thanks to his natural smell (amongst other things) being a turn-off.

The other theory I've spent time exploring is polyamory. Defined as 'the practice or lifestyle of being open to having more than one loving, intimate relationship at a time, with the full knowledge and consent of all partners involved', poly is a practice that has been around since time began. I'm in agreement with most exponents that it's not a polite word for swinging - the emphasis is on emotional commitment as opposed to 'sex'. It's similar to what a Muslim with four wives would practice in this country (where polygamy is illegal), where he'd have one legal wife and three girlfriends treated in a similar way. I believe Tibetan women practice the same thing - except they call it polyandry. Pretty useful where expensive childcare and a dual-income 'entitlement-driven society' come into play ;)

The terms primary (or primary relationship(s)) and secondary (or secondary relationship(s)) are often used as a means to indicate a hierarchy of different relationships in a person's life. Thus a woman with a husband and another partner might refer to the husband as her "primary". (Of course, this is in addition to any other terms a person might use, such as "lover", "casual date", "friend", "other half", and so on.)

The term tertiary can refer to ongoing casual relationships, though it is much less commonly used.

Famous polyamorists include Amelia Earhart and Edith Nesbit. Whilst my friends who practice these fun and games aren't half as famous, their viewpoint regarding the societal standard for one man to have partner is one I agree with.

It's pointless to moralise using standards set when life-expectancy was half that we have now. By the time one had gotten sick of their spouse in the modern world, one's 18th Century counterpart would be six foot under. Or burnt in an urn, depending on preference. Childcare and property-rights were different in the days before contraception and female mass employment - marriage was invented to ensure women and children were provided for.

It's entirely natural to be attracted to two/twenty people over a lifetime. So why chastise people who choose to follow the scent in the context of honesty and trust? Puritanism & believing oneself to be more 'civilised' by not subscribing to the multi-lover theory is offensive to the natural order. Why not live and let live?

Medic Insecurity

If you don't like whining, I suggest you look away right now.

As my the good already blogged, the majority of my colleagues seem to spend their days in a seemingly-endless cycle of drudge. Placements are getting 'samey', commuting is making us wearing & the job frustration (where one isn't told the names of colleagues, payment bracket, hours expected and duties given) isn't making us feel any better.

To cut to the chase, six years is a long time to wait for more debt, training post cuts, increased competition and a significantly reduced social life. It's just as well, since I'll be working too much to actually care about former schoolmates ignoring/avoiding social occasions involving me for purely monetary reasons. Granted, living in Kingston doesn't exactly enhance your street cred but it doesn't stop you from living a life you'd like.

I mightn't have the bling/contacts that working for JPDeloitteYoungCoopers & living in West London bring but that doesn't make mean I've got ZILCH to offer.

I reckon these gits should remind themselves that what people like me are training for might actually be helpful to them/their families one day.

Saturday, December 09, 2006

Rhythm in Motion...

Friday the 8th of December was a very interesting day for me. The culmination of months of emails, blogs and successive periods abroad finally came to fruition.

The plan I speak of was my meeting of Mr Rhythmic!

As we all know, behind every great blog is a great person - and I take pride in letting everyone's favourite SuperUncle into my life.

Who - Mr Rhythmic and I
What - Wetherspoons pub grub and assorted drinks. All treated courtesy of the good Sri Lankan boy.

When - lunchtime
Where - Surbiton, home of 'The Good Life'.
Why - to talk about life :)

The conversation was fluid yet intriguing - I don't think an awkward moment was there! Topics included family life, recent trips abroad (with particular attention paid to SL), blogging styles, all of you blogging types (hey, we've got YOU LOT in common!), weekend plans, fears and dislikes and music chat.

All very interesting, as I'm sure you're aware.

I guess it proves Kottu is useful for something, eh?


Ladies and Gentlemen,

There comes a time in every conversation, where talking has to stop and listening has to start. Whilst I'm not going to share an epiphany, or a sufficiently self-smung monologue with you - I shall leave you with the latest evolution of the Sri Lankan 'bike' - Mr Theena's music questionnaire..

1. CD or vinyl – CD's! You can't fastforward/rewind or change tracks on vinyl.

2. An album you’ve been meaning to listen to – 'Tapestry' by Carol King.

3. Grammys - Important or a load of bollocks – important for raising awareness of new artists and genres at times, but mostly a self-congratulatory financially-driven load of fluff.

4. Your favourite album is – 'Mesmerize' by System of a Down.

5. Invite 10 Music people for dinner. Who will it be?

Lenny Kravitz (nutter but with it), Charlotte Church (GSOH and can be relied upon to enjoy the hospitality), Morgan Rose (one of my best interviewees), Liam Howlett (grouchy), Chris Martin (Sri Lankan parties aren't without a fight - Liam Howlett and Morgan Rose will beat him senseless for producing mind-numbing macrobiotic codswallop), Christina Aguilera, Mariah Carey, Serj Tankian, P!nk and Dave Grohl (nicest guy and best host ever).

6. Appropriate punishment for those who play Celine Dion’s "My heart will go on" while pretending that it’s still 1998 –

Enforced deafness by forcing hookworm-infected melon pulp, matchsticks (appropriate, since Ms Dion's face is melon-esque upon her stick insect frame) and crushed Celine Dion CD's against their tympanic membranes.

7. Choose your favourite instrument and its best player from your point of view.

The voice. You can't win voice. You can have an extremely versatile and tuneful one though - see Billie Holliday, Enya, Etta James, Mariah Carey, Christina Aguilera, Shirley Manson and Maria Callas. For male, see Marvin Gaye, Michael Jackson, Coree Richards (ex-Damage), Prince, Lenny Kravitz and Will Young.

8. The one piece of music that can move you to tears – music isn't noise, and noise is unwanted sound. Therefore, I'm going for the most poignant effort - Pink's 'Family Affair'.

9. You are an executive at a major label and have the power to green light one album a year. What would you do? – green light my friends' new album - it's very reminiscent of Tricky, Jega, Aphex and NIN's remix work. Decent dance music (i.e. not Basement Jaxx) has been underground for far too long...

Friday, December 08, 2006

Mortifying or what?

Girls and boys, today's instalment comes to you inspired by the letter B. B, my friends, is for boredom.

Boredom is an evil thing. It can make you procreastinate from the task at hand (or in my case, most tasks at hand) or lose the will to live should no task/people be present. Since procreastination is inevitable when GP Audit's are around, I find myself visiting the usual host of online suspects (college email, hotmail, gmail, livejournal and facebook) before settling back down to work.

I do believe facebook is the only 'non-self explanatory' one of these. Facebook is a social networking site, designed by two disgruntled Harvard graduates to help people with common histories keep in touch. In keeping with MySpace, Faceparty and other less 'exclusive' profile sites, facebook allows users to post pictures, news and views to be shared with those they grant access to. People within your current work/study place are automatically given the right to view your profile and it is upto the individual to restrict privacy as they wish.

Alas, the whole of my university appears to have signed up to this. A few people I find aesthetically attractive have joined in on the fun. It's nice to know a little info on them in preparation for the next time I see them.

As luck would have it, I tend to fall for people who don't partake in medicine - variety is indeed the spice of life. Consequently, I see these people once/twice a year, as/when I go to our main campus and tend not to talk to them as they seem to appear at mutually inconvenient times. As a result, I am ignorant of any information about them - our college is huge, senior medics don't know non-medics (our non-medic friends have already left) and friends don't tend to ask other friends whether they know 'x who looks like this and rides a bike like this' without sounding remotely stalkerish.

Facebook is a godsend for checking out these randoms. Today's random trawling revealed a certain object of lust had four mutual 'friends' in common with me. Exactly how good a quality of relationship he shares with them remains to be seen. Since my friendship with them could be reduced to acquaintance in three of the four cases, I felt uncomfortable about sharing the admiration.

So I thought I'd tell him directly myself. I messaged said bloke this morning and mentioned I found him cute. F*ck knows what he'll make of it - perhaps he'll reply, perhaps he'll not. Either way, I hope it brightens up his day and puts a smile on his face. That's community spirit for you :D

La le la le laaa. I'm going to meet Mr Rhythmic today :D

Monday, December 04, 2006

One Hour Later...

..and my wait appears to lengthen. I have rung said recruitment service who believe their writer has submitted her work & put my application through the final checking stages.

If all is fine and dandy, I should be done by 2pm.

This should leave me free to visit my patient project patient (multiple pathologies, multiple sclerosis) and carry on with afternoon surgery.

My stomach is currently a mess - I've had two drinks of Galaxy hot chocolate (made with water) for lunch. Add the water biscuits, low-fat spread and Vegemite to it and you've got yourself a meal with sufficient vitamins to ward of scurvy for the forseeable future. I actually saw a case of scurvy in Sri Lanka, funnily enough, in the country where the colourful healthy stuff (aka fruit and veg) is freely available minus the employment of a five-fingered discount. I guess it goes to show certain cultures consider pulses (Baked Beans/lentil curry) as vegetables?

EDIT - evil form returned, new answers adapted -> evil form submitted. RESULT!

I have cunningly stolen a teaspoon of Philadelphia (unfortunately not light) to add luxury to my lunch. WIN X 2!

Keep Hunger Locked Up 'til Lunch

Shreddies - who could forget the ad with disarmingly creepy chirpy faces and arms on grids of breakfast cereal? Shreddies (and indeed all whole-grain products) are supposed to keep one's hunger sated 'til the next meal, correct?

I don't think so. I'm ravenous as we speak, after having enjoyed wholewheat Seviyan (Indian sweet noodle pudding) for breakfast. The only thing stopping me from marching into the common room of our surgery & scoffing the six-pack of mince pies generously given by a patient today is vanity. I can't really afford to do physical pride since I checked out my rear-view in a mirror yesterday. There's easily two grand worth of liposuction on there, so I'm doing my best to minimise this cost. Granted, I need to visit the gym a little more often but swimming is the only exercise that takes my fancy.

Hmm. What else. Ooh, lookit, we're at midday now, so I can FINALLY check my email to see if said document has arrived. Surprise surprise, it hasn't.

Shall keep you posted on this sorry saga as/when it happens.


Spring Cleaning

As you may know, I have been away a good couple of months. My father's snoring has driven my mother into my room. Since said room is blessed with a double bed (and my father is flu-ridden as we speak), I feel a tad uncharitable re: the eviction of mother.

So I haven't sent her packing (yet). I have, however, sent her stuff packing as it's starting to take over my room. Not only am I obsessive about tidiness (fear my inner Kim and Aggie!) but I take great care in not allowing the peculiarly Sri Lankan mess to build in my room. The mess tends to appear where a specimen brought up in Sri Lanka resides for over a month. Second Gens don't tend to let said clutter accumulate.

Somehow, the evil mess had made it's evil way into my room and plonked itself on my windowsill). Within minutes of spotting it, I had not only sorted it into it's designated components, but I'd cleaned it and sent it packing on it's evil way out, never to return again.

What is this mess you so speak of?

It's the dust-collecting vermin of vomit-inducing proportions. A collection of random bits and bobs (think coins, loose buttons, paperclips and jewellery), kept in neat piles with the intention of being sorted out later. Said bits appear to glue themselves to one another within the space of a month, with a fine covering of dust and fluff settled for entertainment purposes. The evil pile is often found on dressing tables, bathroom counters and study desks - if not kept in place, it could expand to consume all available space. Disgusting.

So I've wasted the last 20 minutes whining away about f*ck all. Well done me - I've been trying to take my mind off my MTAS form. I've given my Key Skills answers to a pro-writer to have a gander through. They've promised to have it delivered to me by midday. That's twenty-three minutes away, so poor Savi3 is going to have to put up with me for a little while longer. To be frank, I think my answers are sufficiently high-grade (national level achievement x 3) and pertinent to the questions asked, but it always pays to be *that* little more secure in one's work. I wish they would put me out of my misery - especially since I asked to have said answers by Saturday when I sent in my request form one week ago. Grrr. Hmm, only twenty-one minutes to go now. Let me think of something else to bore you with ;)