Friday, June 25, 2004
Fang(4) Dian(4)
Yes, yes. I do remember the odd hanyupinyin thingie.
The Filipino Sister's hand brushed mine the other day as we both reached for something. There was an audible (and very tangible) crack as she discharged onto me. Oww.
I'd been kidding around about it back home, a barely remembered memory. But as it happened yet again, I paused to think. Gee. It happens EVERY time we come within a centimeter of each other. And suddenly, I was siezed with the urge to kiss her, just to see what would happen.
Bah! Dammit!! Mind corrupted!!!! /purge
not good. negative outcome. this is what comes from talking to pervy people.
moving swiftly on...
*****
Now the Senior Clinical Pharmacist at my hospital, though. She has the face, body, and temperement of an angel. I remember falling slightly in love with her, in a platonic way of course, as a pre-reg house officer. We hugged goodbye the day I left, and it was a moving experience.
A year and a bit down the line, I returned to the same hospital, but we only meet occasionally, usually outside the hospital on the way home (and apparently once in london when I flagrantly ignored her err unintentionally) and stand and chat, and I look in her (...angelic) eyes and think she's simply the bestest...
deviant thoughts like "if only she wasn't married..." don't even come into it. (so get your minds out of the gutters!) although, well. cough. well moving swiftly on.
It's funny how cultural barriers come crashing down after living in a truly cosmopolitan society like london (as compared to, cough, the Motherland, where undercurrents of racism bubble constantly under the surface). She's not, if any of you are wondering, platinum blonde with blonde roots. She's actually "asian", ie (in this country anyhow) Indian.
On that note, however :
walking home from the gym today (ouch! argh! I hurts!) some white children threw a rotten egg at me. It missed by a mile, but where it lay smashed on the ground emanating the most foul odour imaginable, several huge inch-long maggots crawled out and started dying in the sunlight.
I eyed them for a while (the kids, not the maggots), contemplating charging them down and rubbing their faces in the egg for a bit, but they at least had the decency not to shout some racist slur or other, and after a short and slightly uncertain standoff, they decided to run for it, probably because the chinese guy looked pissed off and might know something about hurting people.
Grr.
It's a strange, mixed up country I'm living in, where half the population is colour-blind, and the other half seeped since childhood in insurmountable prejudice. But I rather prefer it to the latent, but prevalent racism of home.
I remember listening to the ex, and her family go on, and on, and on about Ah Pu Neh Nehs, and the horrible smell of their hair.
And slowly, very slowly, burning with hate.
The Filipino Sister's hand brushed mine the other day as we both reached for something. There was an audible (and very tangible) crack as she discharged onto me. Oww.
I'd been kidding around about it back home, a barely remembered memory. But as it happened yet again, I paused to think. Gee. It happens EVERY time we come within a centimeter of each other. And suddenly, I was siezed with the urge to kiss her, just to see what would happen.
Bah! Dammit!! Mind corrupted!!!! /purge
not good. negative outcome. this is what comes from talking to pervy people.
moving swiftly on...
*****
Now the Senior Clinical Pharmacist at my hospital, though. She has the face, body, and temperement of an angel. I remember falling slightly in love with her, in a platonic way of course, as a pre-reg house officer. We hugged goodbye the day I left, and it was a moving experience.
A year and a bit down the line, I returned to the same hospital, but we only meet occasionally, usually outside the hospital on the way home (and apparently once in london when I flagrantly ignored her err unintentionally) and stand and chat, and I look in her (...angelic) eyes and think she's simply the bestest...
deviant thoughts like "if only she wasn't married..." don't even come into it. (so get your minds out of the gutters!) although, well. cough. well moving swiftly on.
It's funny how cultural barriers come crashing down after living in a truly cosmopolitan society like london (as compared to, cough, the Motherland, where undercurrents of racism bubble constantly under the surface). She's not, if any of you are wondering, platinum blonde with blonde roots. She's actually "asian", ie (in this country anyhow) Indian.
On that note, however :
walking home from the gym today (ouch! argh! I hurts!) some white children threw a rotten egg at me. It missed by a mile, but where it lay smashed on the ground emanating the most foul odour imaginable, several huge inch-long maggots crawled out and started dying in the sunlight.
I eyed them for a while (the kids, not the maggots), contemplating charging them down and rubbing their faces in the egg for a bit, but they at least had the decency not to shout some racist slur or other, and after a short and slightly uncertain standoff, they decided to run for it, probably because the chinese guy looked pissed off and might know something about hurting people.
Grr.
It's a strange, mixed up country I'm living in, where half the population is colour-blind, and the other half seeped since childhood in insurmountable prejudice. But I rather prefer it to the latent, but prevalent racism of home.
I remember listening to the ex, and her family go on, and on, and on about Ah Pu Neh Nehs, and the horrible smell of their hair.
And slowly, very slowly, burning with hate.
