Lady Luck Speaks

Desi dating and desires from the doctor of delight.

Monday, April 30, 2007

Friendships and relationships : more musings

Nocturnal greetings to you all. As you can see I have emerged from a pile of revision and plunged myself into another pile of angst.

Without meaning to sound melodramatic, all things on the revision-front appeared to have ground to a halt thanks to the World Cup final and the number of guests we've had over. In true Ruhuna Kella (that's Southern Sri Lankan girl) style, I took to the role of hostess (my mother chose to nap) with gusto and enjoyed the pleasant respite from the books.

Needless to say, I did my utmost to delay the return. Allergy-attacks, tidying-up, interesting TV programmes (such as 'Blind Young Things' and 'Dispatches : India's Economy') and uninteresting viewing fodder ('Joseph' and 'Grease is the Word'), a visit to the Beauty Shop, a talk from Ajahn Brahm and OKCupid have ranked amongst my distractionary activities.

I've (shamefully) started using Facebook as a stalkbook - it's hard to resist checking out your crush's ex-girlfriends and inadvertently comparing yourself in the process. I'm glad it's killed the intellectual inadequacy I had when under the impression those girls got firsts in physics and computing (they turned out to be geologists - PAH) but it's heightened the physical barrier as it'd be wrong to describe me as porcelain, funky or elfin-featured in any way/shape or form. It's difficult to hypothetically (as said crush is currently taken by an elfin-faced Jewish artist) decide whether to 'go there' or not based on the fact I'm so different to what Mr Yum has had before.

Perhaps it's best to let the crush decide as I've got it astoundingly wrong in the past! Limiting factors are different in each case - I may have been artistic, intelligent, dark-haired and tanned; the similar to a previous crush's exes but my Body Mass Index was ten points higher than theirs. Crushes are perfectly entitled to reject on such grounds - I'd have few qualms rejecting someone on equally trivial grounds (crap CD collection, deficient oral hygiene, preference for polyester-based sports clothing) .

Either way, rejection hurts - and this is precisely why I am r.e.l.u.c.t.a.n.t to go there again. As I get older, the number of prospective dates I meet drops. I also have less time to devote to said dates, which is why I get pickier over whom I choose to spend my spare time with. The stakes devoted to the success of each venture rise as the ventures are fewer and far between and hence, a negative outcome from these ventures has much greater effect than it should. I tend not to take the positive outcomes to heart as a second/third date is a bonus in my world - and expectations lead to disappointment - fact.

My ego is consequently a tad fragile where relationships are concerned - I've been told all sorts of things as to why I have failed in said arena and they're not the sort of things I can correct with ease. Intimidation, tendency to minimise small talk, weight (ok, I've lost a stone since Xmas but it's still not good enough to look *good* in Topshop), sounding too posh/not sounding posh enough, not being girlie enough/being too eccentric - the whole caboodle is enough to send a girl neurotic. Either way, I've decided to push said matter to one side; I'm positive there's someone out there who'll accept me as I am and not hate me enough to not want to donate their sperm/time/company. I've just not met them yet.

Relationship insecurities aside, I turn to relationship musings of another type - platonic friendships. It's been preying on my mind since job allocations came my way - geographical separation is going to mean I'll have to make new chums and see the old bunch less.

Ever since I was a small person, I've had a lot of friends. The friends would often be in disparate places, e.g. different year groups/from different activities and hence, not always get the chance to meet each other. I've chosen to spend time where my interest takes me, e.g. doing the activity that 'I' want to do. Through this I've enjoyed the company of a variety of people but find that, as time goes by, the times I see said friends are as part of groups they see on a more regular basis.

On socialising with a group, you compromise your interactions with an individual. Having a partner (or partners/other priorities) means the time that said individual has for you is diminished. Consequently, a friendship which could've been great is shot from the start by circumstances outside your control. The same person goes on to skank your events 'cos you've not spent time with them. A similar situation occurs when you skank their event for another friend's, by virtue of socialising with too many other groups. You keep missing each other, the cycle continues, to the point where you'll never be bored on a Friday night, but only a select few will think to put you first as/when you need them the most. Understandably, you'll have a few friends who feel uncomfortable coming to events where they haven't met the entire guestlist before, but thankfully, these types are being deleted (from my life) into phonebook obscurity.

Conclusively, the security from a group is something a lot of humans crave. By virtue of my own behaviour (i.e. the desire to spend time with those who stimulate me most), I've excluded myself from the comfort zone of automatic invites and kudos/favours by proxy. I'd like to learn how to take comfort in the sidelines and positively enjoy the detachment/lack of obligation that objectivity (and staying out of intra-group politiking) brings.

What do you guys make of this 'friendship' thing?

Saturday, April 28, 2007

Cricket :D

World Cup Final in three mins - I can't wait.

I can see a proper post a moi is LONG overdue!


Sunday, April 01, 2007


Greetings Blogosphere, it's been a while!

I'd like to say my absence hasn't been due to life changing adventurous reasons. The tedium of revision and intensive care has done it's best to keep me away from here, but not for much longer!

Since I left you, I have found out my rotation for the next two years. Understandably, I am aggrieved that I've not landed a post with dermatology input, but life does indeed go on. I've got the small matters of geriatric medicine, colo-rectal surgery, pathology, paediatrics, GP and trauma surgery to keep me busy if finals smile on me. Hopefully they will, as revision is a nightmare when you've got a life to be living and fit people to keep chasing!

Being ill isn't easy either - a horrid bout of tonsillitis is what got me here, as my presence in the living room, where SL are playing the West Indies has led to them losing two early wickets. (I've never actually watched a match where SL won, so I guess that makes me a jinx. Ah well, more me for you lucky, lucky readers :P)

So what else is up with me?

I attended my final year dinner, which sucked. I then went on to Borough Market to sample the Dorset scallops at Shellseekers, venison and wild-boar at Sillfield Farm and the Chabis at Neals Yard. I also tried the nine-year old Jamon at Brindisa, a Spanish speciality stall, before buying the ultimate chocolate brownie (which wasn't a patch on Moby's gooey-vegan baby at Teany).

Fact - fresh stir-fried scallops plus bacon equals foodgasm.
Fact two - the reason vegan brownies = hotness = banana as the egg replacer.

I've also had an excellent dinner out at Imperial China, in the company of HK hosts and the vicinity of Bollywood's power couple, John Abraham and Chowki and Masala Zone!

Foodness aside (there is indeed more food to follow as my allergies have played up and I am again egg and dairy-free, in addition to Ros' latest query as to why some cuisine's have taken off and others haven't), there hasn't been much going on.

Lisa Jewell's 'Vince and Joy', 'Wedding Belles', 'The Apprentice' (Jadine is a MONSTER, Tre is rude and Geri is a bitch) and drooling over Allan from Shipwrecked means I've not been up to much culturally. There's the return of 'Peep Show' to look forward to this week, and the ticketing for all the music fests this summer. There's also a plan for a spa-day post-exams and a girlie-week to a semi-exotic destination. Marrakesh, Kenya (where my friend has just started an orphanage) and South Africa are all looking good to me.

Enough about me? What about you?

Tell me about your summers!

Shrove Tuesday Final Year Dinner

STFYD is an ICSM institution. Since 1939, Consultants and students have made a point of fraternising towards the end of the spring term, to celebrate the end of the era before finals revision kicks in.

This year's event was held at the Bridge, in SE1. While the year below endeavoured to put on a spectacular night (indeed, the aesthetics were perfect), the failings of the venue worked against them. Things started going downhill when the sound system failed for two-thirds of the tables present, meaning we had to crush forwards to hear Miss Higham, Sam's band and the three musketeers.

The staff (surly and clueless) continually failed to serve guests who weren't seated, meaning a lot of people had to chase after their food whilst the speeches continued. Temperature really doesn't matter when socialising is the number one priority. People are like boomerangs and will eventually return to their tables - it's the law of black-tie does to stave off your hangover before you go back for more!

Thirdly, the food, drink and facilities weren't much cop - spinach and mozzerella tart made with a pastry base of granulated sugar crystals and dry couscous served with rubbery roasted veg. Indeed, there was proof in the pudding that a tasting hadn't taken place before the order was placed; this might have been prudent given that nightclub chefs are more accustomed to providing burgers and chips over gourmet-fare.

Issues aside (clashes over the elective postcard collage), a lovely night was had; the highlights being the meeting of friends, dirty/Dad dancing from the Consultants and the generous gift from Miss PrizeWinner who chose to put part of her winnings behind the bar for the rest of us.

Roll on the Graduation Ball!