Stories · for · a · Rainy · Day

So I went to yet another card game extravaganza. Something I thought I had closed the door on.

I am now New Zealand's Master of Void, AND Master of Air (Best Sportsman). Also my haiku are apparently relatively decent, which is nice to know.

More significantly, I was involved with the 2010 NZ 48 hour Film Festival, with Borden and Muredach and Patrick (oo-rah!) and gang. It was my deep honour to help with our effort, titled Garden of Eva. Making movies is oodles of fun, lashed with drippings of nervous madness and drizzled with fevered stress. Add a dash of sleeplessness, allow to set, and voila!

One film in 48 hours.

Hello everybody.

I'd like to announce my book, now in first draft format, to the world.

The General and the Gentleman. A work of martial fiction that takes place in Tenth Century Chola India.

I would like to say that finishing this thing was the most important thing I have done in my life, so far. I'm so glad I did it, and doubly so because my family seem to be enjoying the manuscript.

It's a little longer than Harry Potter and the Philosopher's Stone, by comparison.

Cheers. Thank you for sharing in my happiness, and do drop me a line if you're curious. Since this blog has been dead for three years, I'm not expecting Reuters to overload it, but you know what I'm saying.

Ciao.

Well, last weekend was an intensely personal one for me. Ever since I was old enough to realise that the white drops floating down the movie screen actually did fall in faraway lands, I have been magnetised by snow. The thick white carpet during Christmas that seemed to be a child's delight, was a especially wondrous toy I felt God had refused me when I was a child myself.

So at Turoa Skifields this year, I was five again. And then I had to make the decision which would define snow to me for the rest of my life.

Skis or Snowboard? I had read a little bit about both, but I fear my mind was overwhelmingly made up by the time I paid my money.

Skiing is for girls. And sissy girls at that.

I had so much fun wiped out on my ass and cracking my shoulders, elbows and knees on the powder that when I finally managed to work a decent carve into the beginners slope, I intentionally wiped at the slightest provocation.

I especially enjoy describing wide circles where I use opposite edges of the board to slowly drift my way down. This is all strictly newbie behaviour, and is frowned upon by experts.

Well, suck it, because I was five again, and on a snowboard. Hee Hee.

Ah, yes, I have a new sport I love.

Also, I read The Life of Pi, a exquisite work that won the Booker in 2002. I was profoundly disturbed by the end of that tale. I couldn't read it again, because it hits too close for comfort. No other book has ever made me feel this way. I'm telling you, it's a ball-gripper of a read. Highest recommendations.

I must thank Khomala for reminding me to read it.


Some Pics of Indonesia, and one of Mount Ruapehu, where I might have broken my coccyx. Awesome. The last picture is a purely hypothetical shot that might have been me yesterday. Although my clothes were cooler. I admit artistic license with the angle, too. Heh.

Enjoy.

The days are getting lengthier, the nights are getting warmer, and my longing to wander is getting longer. My job at the moment consists of a brief ward round in the morning and staying on site to provide assistance if needed. I've found this a rather leisurely way of earning my keep. I guess no one else really wants my job, custodian of the criminally insane.

Thus my natural inclination to wander, at least inside the caverns of my imagination, has been fully rewarded. I finally started a book which lasted more than five pages, read through enough Wikipedia to make my head declare a civil war, and finished off a long overdue piece of art to boot. It's just a sketch, of course, but I am quietly proud of it. It has been, after all, nearly a year since I put pencil to parchment.

As to whether I finish the book, well, we'll see. It's easily the most exhausting of my arty endeavours. I've had plenty of time to ponder philosophy and accost innocent young doctors about it whenever I get a chance, especially during lunch break. So far, it's been enlightening, but I notice that they all seem rather... busy. Heh. I remember when I was that... busy. Ahhhh....

I'm also hitting gym three to four times a week, and I must say I can see a difference. Oh, and finally, I will be learning to ski and playing with snow next week, weather permitting.

May I recommend The Doors to any one who hasn't tried them? As well as, Arcade Fire, The Meters, the soundtrack to Babel, and woefully underrated these days.... the one and ONLY, Michael Jackson. No seriously, when was the last time you listened to one of his tracks, especially pre-Dangerous? That guy, rocked.

Go ahead make your jokes, but I don't think I'm too old to love Mikey. Ba-Dump-Phish, and all that.

Here's some pics of Cambodia, some of these shots are of the Killing Fields, be warned.

Oh, and my sketch too.

Hello guys, I'm about to finish my run in Urban Acute Psychiatry and I'm about to move into the Forensic Psychiatry Ward. This ward treats patients with criminal records, who are also insane, kind of like good old Hannibal. It's gonna be a wild ride, I imagine. I've enjoyed my time so far though, so bring it on, but not in the face. Heh.

I saw Bob Dylan in concert the other day, where the 66 year old gimpy gran'paw rocked and growled his way through a spellbinding 2 hours which had the audience up for a standing ovation and a ten minute stomp and clap ruckus which resulted in an encore rousingly received. Honourable mention to the Frames, enthusiastic Dubliners who opened spiffingly.

Man that was a good day. Caught up with friends before and after, and made tentative plans to go to some ski fields in a couple of weeks. That would be just...perfect, this month.

In other news, I might be assuming the registrar position in the near future (nothing to do with sex, mate) and that means more responsibility, more hours, more studying, more money, more power and cooler clothes (okay so sex might come up).

Here are some pictures of Peru...only because you asked.

HAMILTON, NZ, 2007 - Witnesses report today that sightings of the strange male, identified as 'Ganesh' (last name unpronounceable), have resurfaced following a seven week period in which he was missing and presumed lost. Theories that he was robbed of his kidneys (and spleen) and left to die in a bathtub in downtown Auckland were dashed when new information was sourced from a Shadowy Figure who chased this mysterious Indian down.

Although the details are sketchy, what is certain is that 'Ganesh' was for very suspicious reasons, travelling to prime illicit drug growing regions in quick succession. Coupled with his generally unkempt appearance, we know he was up to no good.

We have several photo images of places ONLY SECONDS AFTER HE LEFT the premises. Witness the first shot, surrounded by thick Cambodian jungle, up to God knows what...





We have documented evidence that he was searching most of the ruined complexes of this area including fabled Angkor Wat!

As if this was not enough, only four days later in the cities on the island of Java, Indonesia, we have this as his next location. Another ruined temple!




As if Borobudur was not enough, in Prambanan only ONE day later, he was almost caught on camera here(but for a stray accomplice and a bottle of Bintang);





It's obvious he was searching for something, an priceless artifact perhaps. It's well known, that countless hoards of treasure wait for the intrepid explorer at these sites. Colonial era gold, maybe.... or something more ethereal?

Truly nefarious was this fellow, but whatever it was it was obvious he gave up Southeast of the Orient, as he then skipped under,over and between various government security nets to surface only FIVE DAYS later in where else but the treasure capital of the ages, The New World!

And it's obvious he found whatever he was looking for as he searched high;





and low;





Finally on on the last day,as he was laden with the loot that he had taken from all the places he had pilfered, Ganesh slowed down just enough that we have ONE mugshot here from just as he adroitly made his escape to New Zealand from Peru after sacking the nation of it's national treasures!




Is there nothing this scoundrel will not stoop to? And he even looks like he's having the time of his life, the devil! Fie on him, I say, Fie!

er...Sightings around Waikato Hospital are expected to commence from tomorrow. This is not expected to attract alarm.

Shadowy Figure.

Some Maori believe that we walk into the future backwards, looking back at the past and heedless of the future. I like that philosophy, but I've always felt, deep down in the parts of me that are still more child than man, that I was always going to reach this point.

Even as the hardened, rational part of me realises that beyond any logical conclusion, I have nearly finished a whole YEAR as a doctor, the kid, that foolish dreamer in me is saying, I knew all along.

And my dreams are coming to life.

This May, I pay my own way. I'm going to be on leave from the 7th of May till the 22nd of June, and I've lined up an expedition like no other. First off the Malaysia, and then to Cambodia, to walk beneath the ancient trees and ruined walls of Angkor Wat.

Two weeks later to Indonesia, to marvel at the splendour of Borobudur and Prambanan.

And then, a week later off to Peru, to Cuzco, where I trek across the Andes and Amazon to discover the lofty Inca legacy of Machu Picchu.

You'd be crazy to do it, or crazy not to.

Work has been good, all told. I have been party to some really amazing surgery, and I have new found respect for the adrenaline guzzling General Surgical team I belong to. Work has been hard too, but that goes without question.

I wonder, if we dare to dream, and work, hard enough, it is actually possible? Can we really do it all?

I can't wait for my holiday next year, as well as becoming a registered doctor. I can't wait to live my life.

I'm currently on Day 5 of a series of seven, where I start work at ten at night and finish at eight the next morning.

The hospital during those twilight hours is a closer, more personal environment, with chance encounters creating a more powerful resonance, where smiles mean the seal of camaraderie in the face of shared circumstances, and a cup of coffee offered can make a person's day.

I like nights. I like being the primary clinician for over seventy potential patients, and still being willing and able to manage them. I like stealing moments and doing my own stuff, or just sleeping. I like my senior doctor and and his calm yet cheery manner at five in the morning.

I hate the hours but if day work was like this, being a doctor would be too addictive.


Personal life, well, I have learnt a heck of a lot in the past few months, helped and hindered of course by my intense over-analysis of every moment spent in a quasi-romantic moment. I realise that finding someone who likes you is a completely random process. I realise that timing is the most important factor in the whole adventure. I realise that I am very different from most people, and must be a little more forward than I am right now. However, I have definitely realised that I'm no player.

I'm cool with that. I think I've finally reached a crossroads, where I understand what it means to be happy and confident and honourable as well, while still being relaxed enough to be pretty damn cool.

In short, I'm at peace with myself. It's a great feeling.

Who would have thought, that being a doctor was the best thing to have happened to me? My parents? DAMN IT!

By the above, I mean that with the choices I made thus far, this is possibly the best outcome I could have reached. Had I made it as a film director, or a warrior poet, maybe I would have been happier? Maybe. But I'm really happy now, not just content, but happy.

If I had a great chick to hang out with, I might be happier, but I might not...not too sure, but that's pretty much the only bit, that's missing from the purported requirements for total temporal bliss at this point.

In other news, catching U2, yes U2, on Saturday, Big Day Out in January, and Mars Volta in March (if they don't postpone again). In the best shape I've ever been, and loving my new big ass bed.

Yeah, have fun, you all.

Becoming a man is a funny thing. On one hand you're expected to be more rational, mature, and reliable.

On the other, with women, the man is supposed to make rash, uninformed decisions that have no basis in any logical process. And also, to expect a large degree of failure. I'm talking about asking them out, proposing to them and marrying the buggers.

What's up with that?

And obviously, life is going pretty well at the moment.

So been working for the past five weeks in Orthopaedics.

To be a junior doctor is quite a pain. But it's kinda cool to get paid for what you do, helping some random people out. And the job is always different, but always the same... as in your cruisy days are gold dust, always enjoy the living shit out of them. An easy day is always measured at the END of the day.