Saturday, September 06, 2003
Doctor's Blog,
Stardate 05.09.03
*****
Today dawned bright and sunny, and most importantly, warm.
Went to the Colchester town centre in the company of The Hogfather (trusty old Terry Pratchett) and took a bit of a wander. It's considerably larger than I remember it being from my med school days. Is it just me or are the girls out here in Essex more beautiful than the ones in London? Sharper features, less pug-nosed, more curvaceous but less pudgy. Taller, smilier, slimmer. Hmm. And not quite as pregnant as I remember, either.
The castle grounds were extremely scenic. After toying with the idea of actually going into the castle, I decided to leave myself something to look forward to in Winter, and just get myself a tan, and take a bit of a wander. Parking, we used to call it. I watched a father playing with his son on the side of a steep slope, kicking the ball energetically up towards his kid and charging the hill, then running back down in mock dismay as the little rotter chucked it down for his father to chase. And it struck me that if You'd been there we'd have glanced wordlessly at each other and shared a quiet laugh.
Leaned against a fence atop the Castle Hill and looked out over most of Colchester, and wondered to myself. So now I'm a doctor. So now what? What does one really want in life.
I guess, all I have left to want now is a career progression. Exams, and more exams, and the steady climb towards consultancy. What in? I'm not so sure anymore, but most of me can't stand the thought of another medical ward round. Ever. In this life. Or the next.
Once upon a time, I guess I'd have liked the thought of someone by my side. Someone to share it all with, after all, what does it all mean? What is there to live for. Were we once the best and the brightest? You seemed to be. Me, I dunno. Just one of the crowd; isn't that all I've ever really wanted to be.
And now I am.
It'd have been nice to walk alongside someone, but it would have had to be someone I could walk with. Someone whom I could laugh with, and laugh at. Someone who didn't clutter up the empty moments with meaningless and stressful Noise and Friction, someone good-natured with a sparkling sense of humour. Someone easy-going enough to accept me with my numerous flaws and idiosyncracies. She wouldn't have had to be overly pretty (but it would have been nice), or curvy, or sleek or sexy or any of the other bollocks the Real World teaches us to crave after. Athletic sex hanging from the banisters - as Terry Pratchett puts it, the athletic, tumbling, count-the-legs-and-divide-by-two type would have been unnecessary. Kids, would have been un-necessary. Not unwelcome, not unpleasant, just un-necessary for a fulfilling life. Just someone to laugh with, at, and someone who'd laugh at me through life. Someone whose loss I'd regret, till the end of my time.
I wished I could have shared the day with you, for a moment; scenic Colchester, Britain's oldest town. Then I figured that You've seen your share of pretty places down under, and that this would probably just have been another ordinary day, and place to You. And I guess, I'd just have been another ordinary guy, and what on Earth would have been the point of that, then.
Anyhow, The Hogfather was a different kind of Pratchett to the Pratchett of the Discworld. Sure there were the usual compulsive puns and the double / triple ententes, and it had the same grip-the-book-by-the-dogears and read-every-word-twice feel to it, lest you miss even one innuendo or sideways snipe, but somewhere in there the humour vanished, and it was suddenly a dark, enthralling roller-coaster read; Suddenly it became a true fantasy novel for the brave of heart - instead of a light hearted rough-and-tumble. One could almost feel the snow on one's skin, the smell of blood in the snow, and the frenzied scrunches of snow underfoot as we, Susan, Death, the Hogfather and I ran together through an entire chapter. Then, abruptly, the tension eased and the humour returned as the hogfather slid off into the sunset, and the book glided gently to a conclusion. And I was left dazed and somewhat in awe of the man's genius. The man can Write. And he can kid about. And unlike most other authors - he can do Both, all in one book.
22.00 hours. 1 hour to kill, before I transform into Carter, minus the good looks and floppy hair.
Stardate 05.09.03
*****
Today dawned bright and sunny, and most importantly, warm.
Went to the Colchester town centre in the company of The Hogfather (trusty old Terry Pratchett) and took a bit of a wander. It's considerably larger than I remember it being from my med school days. Is it just me or are the girls out here in Essex more beautiful than the ones in London? Sharper features, less pug-nosed, more curvaceous but less pudgy. Taller, smilier, slimmer. Hmm. And not quite as pregnant as I remember, either.
The castle grounds were extremely scenic. After toying with the idea of actually going into the castle, I decided to leave myself something to look forward to in Winter, and just get myself a tan, and take a bit of a wander. Parking, we used to call it. I watched a father playing with his son on the side of a steep slope, kicking the ball energetically up towards his kid and charging the hill, then running back down in mock dismay as the little rotter chucked it down for his father to chase. And it struck me that if You'd been there we'd have glanced wordlessly at each other and shared a quiet laugh.
Leaned against a fence atop the Castle Hill and looked out over most of Colchester, and wondered to myself. So now I'm a doctor. So now what? What does one really want in life.
I guess, all I have left to want now is a career progression. Exams, and more exams, and the steady climb towards consultancy. What in? I'm not so sure anymore, but most of me can't stand the thought of another medical ward round. Ever. In this life. Or the next.
Once upon a time, I guess I'd have liked the thought of someone by my side. Someone to share it all with, after all, what does it all mean? What is there to live for. Were we once the best and the brightest? You seemed to be. Me, I dunno. Just one of the crowd; isn't that all I've ever really wanted to be.
And now I am.
It'd have been nice to walk alongside someone, but it would have had to be someone I could walk with. Someone whom I could laugh with, and laugh at. Someone who didn't clutter up the empty moments with meaningless and stressful Noise and Friction, someone good-natured with a sparkling sense of humour. Someone easy-going enough to accept me with my numerous flaws and idiosyncracies. She wouldn't have had to be overly pretty (but it would have been nice), or curvy, or sleek or sexy or any of the other bollocks the Real World teaches us to crave after. Athletic sex hanging from the banisters - as Terry Pratchett puts it, the athletic, tumbling, count-the-legs-and-divide-by-two type would have been unnecessary. Kids, would have been un-necessary. Not unwelcome, not unpleasant, just un-necessary for a fulfilling life. Just someone to laugh with, at, and someone who'd laugh at me through life. Someone whose loss I'd regret, till the end of my time.
I wished I could have shared the day with you, for a moment; scenic Colchester, Britain's oldest town. Then I figured that You've seen your share of pretty places down under, and that this would probably just have been another ordinary day, and place to You. And I guess, I'd just have been another ordinary guy, and what on Earth would have been the point of that, then.
Anyhow, The Hogfather was a different kind of Pratchett to the Pratchett of the Discworld. Sure there were the usual compulsive puns and the double / triple ententes, and it had the same grip-the-book-by-the-dogears and read-every-word-twice feel to it, lest you miss even one innuendo or sideways snipe, but somewhere in there the humour vanished, and it was suddenly a dark, enthralling roller-coaster read; Suddenly it became a true fantasy novel for the brave of heart - instead of a light hearted rough-and-tumble. One could almost feel the snow on one's skin, the smell of blood in the snow, and the frenzied scrunches of snow underfoot as we, Susan, Death, the Hogfather and I ran together through an entire chapter. Then, abruptly, the tension eased and the humour returned as the hogfather slid off into the sunset, and the book glided gently to a conclusion. And I was left dazed and somewhat in awe of the man's genius. The man can Write. And he can kid about. And unlike most other authors - he can do Both, all in one book.
22.00 hours. 1 hour to kill, before I transform into Carter, minus the good looks and floppy hair.
