why wy?

Still on touchy-feely sessions, we had our first on Friday. For the medical professionals among us, it was an attempt to feel the lumbar vertebrae and the tilting of pelvis. FOr everyone else, it's the bony bits in the lower back. Have realised that I have very small hands in comparism to some people's bodies. By the way, osteopaths don't touch, we palpate.

Ended the week with a blast - caught the David Bowie concert. It was very very good, he made lots of jokes, including a strange aussie accent. It's hard to believe he's as old as my parents. In fact, let's not go there.
The audience was made up of those who were hip back in the 70s (now middle-aged); those who only recognised Let's Dance; and die-hard fans. Bowie played a mix of old songs like Rebel Rebel, China Girl (lots of hands in the air and cheering) and newer songs and B-sides (only the die-hards were waving). He closed with Ziggy Stardust, which was perfect. Sigh, I want to palpate Bowie....

Still house-hunting but wish me luck, might be able to move into a cosy apartment next week. Will send out pictures when I do.

I had alot of questions after aussie 103, most of which regarding the touchy-feely sessions and whether I had any Sports Illustrated swimsuit models for classmates.

Unfortunately, no.

Actually, I would prefer your garden-variety anoxerics too, because it's just easier to make out whether everything is. And that's the reason for touchy-feely sessions, so that you can treat a person for muscloskeletal problems without taking his skin off.
On that topic, there are no weirdos in dissection class who took back "samples" to make a coat or a belt. Thanks for the concern, eugene.

aussie 103

in Victorian England, they used to go to see dissections like how we would go see a brutal sport
like cock-fighting. They don't call it an operating theatre for nothing.

If you were rich and bored, you could even try your hand at being a surgeon and fiddle
around with the bits of your victim - without anaesthesia.
Whoever came up with the phrase "what doesn't kill you only makes you
stronger" must have seen what these rich idiots were doing, because more often than not, the
patients ended up dead from infection or sheer incompetence.

And then there's me on the first day of uni.
I figure there are only three differences:
1) I am not rich.
2) It is Australia.
3) The patient (cadaver really) was already dead.

So, I'm kinda grateful for (3) because we really mucked around. With little or zero knowledge of
anatomy, we were supposed to perform a reverse boob job and check out the pecs. And of course,
leave all the blood vessels and nerves and other stringy bits intact.

Right.

So we kinda just digged and pretended to fuss and waited for the lecturer and two teaching
assistants to come around and show us what we were supposed to do. It
took me quite a while to get that emotional distance and give it a go but some of my classmates
obviously relished it and did the whole CSI routine.

One of the assistants told us at the beginning to wear covered shoes during
class. He then dropped the scapel and it went *ting* as it hit the floor and stayed there, swaying
slightly like a horror movie prop.

"So wear proper shoes, or you will be dissecting extra bits.'' he said. I bet they do
this every year.

And, if you wanted to know, RMIT is as disorganised as NUS. There were
30-some, then 45, and now 47 people (or 52) enrolled in my course. It feels like primary one. And the
e-mail system is even more complicated than lotus notes at work, so count yourself lucky.
I have to enter my id and password at least 3 times just to get to check e-mail.

Next week, we will have to strip down to underthingies (strings not
allowed) for practical touchy-feely sessions. it was a good excuse for shopping, if any.

drumroll....
and the best clever comment in response to aussie 102 is from shawn, all the way from swinging london:

Is this what is otherwise known as "putting a shrimp on the barbe?"

ooooh, that stinging wit that barristers have.

aussie 101 was originally sent out as a mail on Feb 12, 2004.

this is aussie 102, sent out Feb 16

I was debating whether to post this or not, but decided it is too good
to pass up.

the scene is on a tram, midday, fairly crowded but still some seats empty.

Old pensioner guy, who looks like the grandfatherly sort, sits across from me and mom.
he sneezes, and apologises: sorry, it was the chlorine in the pool. It makes me sneeze. I just
went swimming.

I give a polite smile: sorite.

He sneezes a couple more times and apologises.

Old guy: Its really hot.

Me: Ya. Isn't it too hot to swim?
(Note: temperature was around 41c.
Note-to-self: Aussies are friendier people who DO talk to strangers, so when in Rome etc etc.)

Old guy: It's really hot.

Then, I break eye contact and make the mistake of looking down. Old guy
is WANKING.

It's out, in the open, and in the hand. And because I am a sadistic person who hates to suffer
alone, I shall leave you with this mental image: uncooked chicken sausage.

all together now: EEEEWWWWWWWWWWWW

he is wanking and making conversation, thus disproving all theories of how men can only do one
thing at a time, especially if thing is sexually related. I was too shocked to scream (which I will do the next time) and was trying to move to another seat when old guy looks like he's getting off the tram, fittingly at the museum (relics for public viewing).

Old guy continues talking, has presumbly stuffed his offending bits back into shorts but I wasn't
about to check.
He askes: Have you been to the meblbourne museum to see the exhibits? No? You have to go.

I think I've had enough of exhibits and exhibitionists for quite a while.

ps: mum was sitting next to me the whole while and was blissfully unware until I told her later.
She thinks it's funny.

after much prompting from johan, I have bowed to pressure and created a blog. Hey, it isn't embarrassing until 10 million people know and you're googleable. Will put aussie 101 here... the rest to follow in a couple of days and hopefully some new stuff soon.

-----aussie 101 ---------
hey everyone,
it's day three in melbourne and i've only had one beer. depressing? not quite. For oh-my-god-this-is-the-pits, hit-you-in-the-guts depression, you have to go house hunting.

like they say in more colourful hokkien, cheap and good rarely go together. I saw a couple of
places the other day. All were somewhat seedy, cramped apartments in
differing states of disrepair.

One was terribly musty, had a kitchen as big as the bathroom, the stove was broken and
the paint was flaking due to water seepage. The rental agency said they
would fix the stove but not the wall, so not even considering it.

But the weirdest place we saw had everything going for it: smack on the
street with the tram line, minutes away from shops, two bedrooms and cheap. Only this, it WAS a
shop. Imagine a doctor's clinic. the two offices were the bedrooms - which had no windows and
simply faced what would have been the "waiting' area. In the back was a kitchen and a largish hall.
I was too shocked to take pictures.

And since Valentine's is almost here, let me share this morose (but true) housing-dating analogy.
If someone is still available despite being on the market for quite a while, usually there's
something quite salah or wrong. the good ones are snapped up early, as soon as the previous person
leaves.

Then, there were the two Singaporean guys I was supposed to share a house with. one of the guys
backed out cos ""his girlfriend said cannot"". he is also nearly 30. oh wait, he's an engineer.
Out of the blue, he calls me yesterday, saying he is still looking for a housemate. So, we meet
up. He's late, I'm cold and he comes with what i think is his girlfriend. Obviously, I don't know
because she doesn't introduce herself. Or smile.
Obviously, I don't like her. She would make a
great salesgirl in Singapore or an SIA stewardess (no offence to jo's
sister) or an actress who just had botox. Do I really want to live with a guy who listens to his
girlfriend then waffles that it's ok to have a female flatmate yet takes girlfriend along to
meet me? hmmm...

am going to see more places tomorrow. keeping fingers crossed.