The Final Countdown

The Final Countdown

Hello….and here we are. Less than 48 hours till D Day. The culmination of many years’ hard work, and heartache, all jammed into a few painful hours of verbal ping pong and general hole-picking.  Am I prepared? Not in the slightest. No matter how much I study, I will never be prepared. Not scientifically, and most certainly not emotionally.  I’m no scientist – and vivas are not my deal. Not by a long shot. And of course it doesn’t help that I’ve been in denial for the past month or so, ever since I found out when it was going to be.  I’ve lived the past month in a state of mental numbness…in a sort of semi-oblivion to what was about to happen to me, secretly aware of the fact that at some point the anxiety is all going to catch up on me, and that can’t be good.  So I can just picture myself waiting there, on Tuesday morning, for the three people who hold the key to my future – a future that is begging for this chapter to come to a much-awaited close on the 17th of March. Saying that I am nervous would be so high up the understatement street that it’s almost funny.  I mean these exams have been said to take ridiculously long, and I am surely going to die in there, unless I die of anticipation before Tuesday. Long hours of non-stop science talk and questions that delve deep into the subject that so far has made my skin crawl at the mere mention of it –  I shudder even at the thought of it. So I’ve decided to write today because I leave tomorrow and I’m not going to be talking to anyone about the viva, if I can help it. A day of reflection, so to speak. Oh, and of course… life being the soap opera it’s known to be….what other day to have my dreaded viva than on the feast of the patron saint of my beloved Emerald Isle….I will be staying in the UK for a whole week, visiting friends and generally having fun.  One of my best friends and I are watching Riverdance live in Nottingham on Wednesday….something I’ve wanted to do ever since I was a little girl.  I will also be visiting Liverpool (of course!) before heading down to Cambridge to visit some other friends there.  That reminds me….I still have to pack and buy the last few bits and bobs before I leave, so I’d better go now.

Be prepared, for Armageddon is nigh….and Happy St Paddy’s Day!!!


Crystal Ball

Crystal Ball

I’m a terrible liar. Terrible to the point of embarrassment. Be it a white lie, a black lie, or any other colour lie within the visible spectrum – truth is, I can’t lie to save my life.  Last weekend I told a friend I was ill to get out of a potentially awkward situation, and call it karma, call it a self-fulfilling prophecy, call it what you will, but on Monday morning I woke up with the most God awful case of migraine known to man. That’s just great, I thought to myself as I peered at my mobile phone, struggling to keep my eyes half-open despite the throbbing in my head. I had an appointment on the other side of the island at 10. The time was 9.15. On any other day, though admittedly pushing my luck a tad, I’d have gotten away with worse timing – in fact I have done many times. Yesterday though, the mere thought of having to carry my pulsating head around for the entire day and, to make matters worse, engage in semi-decent conversation with an unsuspecting woman who had kindly offered to show me a penthouse that was for sale….well…to be honest it was too much for me to bear. But an appointment is an appointment.

Reluctantly, I rolled myself (as smoothly as I could afford) out of bed, had a quick shower, and off I went. Traffic, I must say, was totally in my favour. I think my aura must have had dark purple circles around i that scared everyone off…everyone seemed to be getting swiftly out of my way – very convenient! Right. So I went there, met her, and a “Hi, thank you, bye, I’ll call you” later and I was on my way back.  I don’t remember the drive home at all. In all honesty, I don’t even remember much of that morning, either – all I wanted to do was crash onto my bed and sleep. But I do remember driving past a poster advertising a clairvoyant….


“My vegetable soup is done”, she told me.

“What? Your veg…” She took the inverted cup and saucer from my hand, put the saucer on a trolley by her side and set my dirty coffee cup on the table, beside the pile of randomly scattered cards which were all facing down.

“I always eat vegetable soup on a Monday…You know, helps me cleanse after my Sunday pig out.”

She was a woman approaching 50, I’d say. Her clothes, although not gypsy-like at all, seemed to be quite thrown together, although individually they may have hit the class scale.  Her brushed hair framed an aging but heavily made-up wrinkly face, and over her layers of black and purple clothes she wore a black and brown feather jacket. Although she spoke to me in a cross between Maltese and English, her thick Cypriot accent transpired the whole time. By her side there was a tiny clock resembling a kitchen timer which she used as a stop-clock. She pressed the button on the clock, and with a blue pen in one hand, and my right hand in the other, she began explaining what the creases in my hands signified.  As she spoke, she scribbled over the crease in question and made little marks by its side.

“You’re going to live a long life – beyond 85. Look” as she put a tiny mark across the far end of the longest crease. “And I don’t see any illnesses like cancer God forbid.  Only bad headaches and stomach aches. We can deal with those. Yes we can. It’s good. See?” Little blue lines now flanked the life crease.

“Oooh your love life. Why do you think you’re never going to settle dear? Look.”

Did I tell her I thought I wouldn’t settle?? I hardly had time to speak to the woman, but she was already drawing antennae poking out of my love line.

“You’re going to be heartbroken again. You already were. Twice. Your ex? Is this line of heartbreak for your ex?”

Ehm…..excuse me madam I thought you were the one with the answers here…

“And another heartbreak. And now you will be heartbroken again. Why? Don’t fall in love with this one dear. He’s got another woman, and you know. And he’s foreign, and you’re far away. Don’t fall in love with him. He’ll break your heart. Look….” and she pointed at yet another of those antennae.

“But then, your true love will come. The real love – your Mr Right dear. Look…he will come late, yes, but he will come and you will settle. Why do you think you won’t settle? And look there are even the children there. Yes of course!! Why not? You’re going to have children with this man and you will be happy.”

When she spoke, it was like there was no need for punctuation….all her words merged into one long concoction of letters…one after the other. I felt that if I let my attention slip for one second, I’d miss out on an entire chapter of my life.

She put my hand down, and took my cup.

“You’re a dreamer.”

OK so what’s new then….

“You’ve got a family who loves you very much – but they don’t understand you. You want to fly….but you don’t know where you want to go. You’ve made some wrong decisions, but you’ll be very happy and very settled once you change career path. You were doing something that requires telling others what to do. Why? You’re not that person dear – you’re not one to give orders you’re a writer and an artist. You’re starting a new job soon. They will like you – and you won’t be unhappy but your place is doing something creative so you will eventually leave this new job. After 18 months you will settle in the job of your dreams.”

Wow. That was nice….I was beginning to get really excited.

“Yes. And this man. You will meet the man of your life by September. The sea will bring him to you. I see that he is either foreign, or has one or both parents who are foreign – or he’s Maltese but lives abroad. He will love you very much – and you will feel the same. But you will lose eachother 7 times before you can settle and build a life together. His name begins with either a V or an A.”

OK…this was getting quite specific, I thought…

“I see the sea associated with you too….you will travel. And you will move house, maybe even country, but you will be very happy and very settled. Give it 18 months.”

“Thank you,” I said. “Thank you so much!”

“Now the cards dear. Pick 6 cards and give them to me.”  I obeyed, and as she revealed the cards one at a time she half-mumbled “OK we know this, yes, of course we know this too. Look dear the cards are saying the same things. You will have love, look” she said, as she pointed at the first card. “Great love. And again, the children, as we said before. Travel – a lot of travel in your life. Happiness, a settled life, and the sea.” All six cards lay uncovered before my eyes.

“But dear,” I looked up as she grabbed my striped blue hand, “start believing in yourself a bit more. Believe in your capabilities. Believe in your happiness. You will see most of your dreams come true. So never stop dreaming!”

Ping!  Time was up.


As I painfully opened my eyes half-way, to check the time, I realised no light was coming in through my balcony door.  In the dark, I reached out for the light switch beside my bed, and looked at the clock. It was half past six in the evening – I couldn’t believe I had slept so much! Head still throbbing, I slowly made my way downstairs to take a painkiller before crawling back to bed.  The fortune teller’s story had left quite an impact on me. What sort of impact, I had yet to decipher. Will I take her words as gospel? No. Will I act upon them in any way? No. Will I let what she said condition my decisions? Hell, no. But well….whether her stories are true or not, or whether my encounter with her was real or just a figment of my imagination, it doesn’t really matter.  All that matters is that ultimately, whatever life throws at me, I’ll be ok.  Be it in the physical world, in my dream world, or in an extension of both, on paper, in my stories. I will be ok. I hold the pen. I am the writer. And the script is all mine to decide. Now it’s time to turn off the light. I’ll wash the blue marks off my hand when I wake up.

Good night.

Inner Peace

Inner Peace

So I quit my job. My hang up was always not wanting to be “a quitter”, and that’s why I was always reluctant to quit. Till one day it just dawned on me. If you settle for something that doesn’t make you happy, be it a job, a situation, a partner, whatever the case…aren’t you also a quitter? You’re quitting on life – on the idea that this is a uniqe experience and we have to make it count. Every minute of it. So, indeed, I’m making it count.  I quit the job that was taking up all of my time, including weekends and public holidays, leaving no time for me to do the more “important” stuff…like writing, painting, reading, being with my family and friends. It was a tough decision to take – I was never unemployed.  Even as a student I always had one or two part-time jobs on the side. So really this was uncharted territory I was treading on. But I did it.  As irony would have it, the second I handed in my resignation letter I got an email confirming that I had been offered another job. More related to pharmacy but much less stress – more of a 9 to 5 sort of job.  Perfect. That would allow enough free time (and energy) to pursue my other interests. They even gave me a choice: to start on the 1st of March or the 1st of April.  I could really use this time, I thought. I need a break from this mad rush. So I signed the contract.  Six weeks till I start my new job. Six weeks of sorting out my space, my mind, my life….So this is it. My very own renaissance. What will I do in the meantime? Well, for starters I need to lose that extra weight I have. Same old same old, you say?? Oh no. Not this time it isn’t. This time it’s the real deal. I am determined to make these 6 weeks count. Coincidentally (back to kismet, are we??) my 30th birthday falls right in the middle of these 6 weeks. Thirty. The big 3-0. I wanted to do something special for my birthday – something I’d remember for the rest of my life….and what better way to celebrate this milestone than the reinvention of the self? The (re)discovery of the id – that appeasement of the inner self…Fancy thoughts, I hear you say. But this is exactly it. What if it’s not a fancy thought?? What if all we do is try to find happiness, when all the while we dont realise that the happiness can only be found within ourselves? I know this has been said before, and perhaps it has turned into something of a cliche…but think about it. The concept makes perfect sense, and clicheed as it may sound, I’m going to find out what I really want my life to be. I’m almost thirty….it’s time to wake up and be who I was born to be, starting from today.

Why did you call, after all this time?

Was there a reason you dropped me a line?

Emotional joy-ride; adrenaline rush…

How can this one message confuse me so much?

Ten years since I’ve known you,

Not once have we met…

Two countries, two lifestyles

Divide us; And yet…

Your mind sees right through me

Few words do so much…

Inside me they wander

My heart for to touch.

Its rhythm, as always,

For you beats so strong.

My heart and your sweet words

Embraced, just belong.

Hey! Me again! Yeah apologies for the crappy song quote but I literally was, wasn’t I? Time really does fly – I can’t believe it’s been almost 3 months since my last post. But I’ve been so busy with thesis writing and general school-related tra-la-las that I haven’t had much time to do anything else.

OK I lie. I did other stuff too. I slept and went out loads, and started painting again. :o)

Oh yeah. And there’s another thing I’ve been doing, too. NO, not THAT. Hehe (well, or not much of it anyway :oP) What I HAVE been doing is putting on evil disgusting weight. Haven’t weighed myself but my clothes are feeling a bit more snug. Bad news. Bad BAD news. So yeah the more of THIS that I keep doing, the less of THAT I’m likely to be getting.

So you think to yourselves “Right. She’s not getting any, she’s putting on weight, and yet, here she is on a Saturday night, sitting at her computer desk telling us all about it, instead of doing something more interesting or at least calorie-burning.” And who can blame you? But I do have a reason. I am going through a tough decision patch, which requires a lot of thought. And plus, work has been so hectic lately that I’m coming home totally drained with no energy left to do anything else, so the weekend is spent catching up with all the “To do” stuff.

OK on to the decisions now. Two decision are taking up a lot of my energy right now. The first is job-based.  As you all know, I’m not the happiest of bunnies at work at the moment.  I’ve been given a class of Form 3 students – the slow-learners, to top it all – and I get paid peanuts.  Top that with the fact that I’m surrounded by people that either fall into one of three categories, or they’re students. What are the categories? Brace yourselves.

Category 1.  The barbie doll.

Members of this species think the greatest invention of all time is the lipstick wand that has lipgloss on the other end.  They come to school looking as though a designer outlet has just thrown up on them, and on average spend 90% of their free time at school talking to their best mates about make-up, sex, or how expensive their clothes are, all the while gossiping about the loser teacher at the desk opposite theirs. The remaining 10% is spent touching up their make-up and revealing to the teacher on the desk opposite that their mate was spreading nasty rumours about her, but they bravely stuck up for her.

Category 2.  The martyr housewife.

Self-explanatory really.  Comments like “Oh, you only have time to look good now, because you’re still single. Wait until you’re married with children. Out goes the shoe closet and in comes the nappy changer” are never scarse.  They think that they’re the only ones who know what life “is REALLY about”, and they spend their days silently competing for the post of “Greatest martyr”, exchanging horror stories about their bastard husbands, unruly children, or ungrateful mother-in-law. Listening to their rants makes you wonder why they ever got married in the first place….But what really baffles me is the fact that curiously, these are the very same people who think you’re a loser if you “don’t find yourself a husband”, and on hearing that you’re single, they give you that “Oh, don’t worry, it’ll all happen for you some day” look while they tilt their head in pity.

Category 3.  30+ virgin men.

Yes. They exist. And yes…they’re out there. Horny (usually very religious) losers who still live with mummy because she prepares their packed lunch every morning for them.  They’ve never had a girlfriend, and they spend their time either at youth fellowship meetings, or playing games. Not evil or depressed by nature, but mind-numbingly boring.

And all the members of these three categories share common characteristics too….they’ve never heard of a pen drive, they think windows is office, they think Mac is short for Mac Donalds, and they go about the school acting like they’ve just found the cure for cancer, when all they’ve done was redesigned the front cover of their school notes.

They are good people, and great fun out of school. But I need a challenge. When I first accepted this job, I was going to teach Sixth formers….not a bunch of school kids. Granted, teachers do a lot, and their job is very fulfilling….but I never intended to be a secondary school teacher, and to be honest, I even suck at it.  Teaching sixth formers is something else. Most of the time, they act maturely.

So my dilemma is this. I’ve been offered 2 jobs….And I can’t decide between them.

Which path to choose????

Which path to choose????

OK….. job 1 is very similar to the job i have now, except there’s an absolute guarantee that I won’t ever have to teach any level other than sixth form. Plus the salary is great and it’s a stepping stone for securing a job at university.

Job 2 is totally different and much more risky, but very exciting. I’d be representing and launching pharmaceutical and medical equipment in foreign countries. Excellent salary and career prospects, and requires a lot of travelling.

See my dilemma?? And it doesn’t stop there. That’s just dilemma number one. Dilemma number two is love-related.  I received an email from a very good friend of mine in which he declared he’s had a crush on me for ages and now he’s coming clean and saying it, even if it means he might jeopardise our friendship. Great. I wasn’t looking for a boyfriend. Not now anyways. I always believed that when you stop looking for love it’ll find you. But I surely never expected it to find me through one of my closest friends in the world! If I try it out, and it doesn’t work, then I risk losing one of my best friends. On the other hand, if it does work, then it could be the best relationship ever……AAAAAAAAAAAGGGGGHHHHHHHHHH

Decisions are never easy……Help!!!


Beatle time

Beatle Time!!!! :o)

As I lay in bed last night (well, at 4.30 this morning, to be precise), I realised that in a bit more than 48 hours I’ll be on my way to Liverpool. You might ask “Well, didn’t you know that already?” Of course I did. But it just hit me while I was turning my light off that I have only 48 hours to go, and so much to get done before I do.

First, I need to sort out the bank loan for the apartment. The guy I’ve been in contact with has been quite a nincompoop and hasn’t done anything for the past 2 weeks. And time is technically running out, because i was given 30 days to get approval from the bank, so that means that by the time I come back from Liverpool it’ll be almost time up.

Second, while I’m at the bank, I need to exchange some money. England has its own currency so my euros won’t be of much help while I’m there. Plus I haven’t got the pin number to my visa (another thing this guy was meant to sort out for me but he obviously had some other prior commitment….see this is why it’s better not to know anyone who might want to “do you a favour”….bah!!)

OK so next, I need to buy some stuff to make my brother’s banoffee before I go…and I also have to buy him a card. I’ll get him a gift while I’m there….

Next, if I can read through my experimental and methodology then I can give them to Maryjane when I meet her…(when??)

Also, I need to check the weather in Liverpool because I’m still not sure what clothes to pack….

Moo….so many things and not enough time to do them….Also, this evening my friends are playing at a place in Paceville, so I’m going, and tomorrow we’re all going to the cinema for The Dark Knight….

I’m not complaining 🙂 I am so excited about Liverpool and about seeing my friend (haven’t seen him since like Easter time) that it’s going to be great! Just roll on Monday, and let’s go to Liverpool baby!!


I’ve just read a fellow blogger’s post about kismet, and in answer to his opening question, “Do you believe that everything happens for a reason?”, my answer, as confirmed by all those who know me, is a definite bold capital underlined YES. Yes, I do believe everything happens in order for something else to be made possible. Everything that happens to us is a direct consequence of, or a precursor to, events that map out our existence; events that prove to be the milestones of our life on earth.

Why don’t things happen when we’d like them to happen? Because everything happen or does not happen as part of a course of events that will eventually lead us to wherever we’ll be, same as it led us to where we are now. I believe that although we might not be aware of it at the time, a “mishap” or some event that did not turn out to be exactly what we were hoping it would, ultimately forms part of a domino effect of events that, when looked at in terms of the big picture, all make sense and fall in perfect synch with eachother.

So, going to my previous post….well, there is a reason for everything. Perhaps that job wasn’t meant to be. Or perhaps….the delay happened for another reason. Some of my friends think I’m crazy to believe this so strongly, and they think it’s a form of illusion. I can’t argue with that. Perhaps in a more logical view of the world, it is. But it works for me. I believe that whatever energy we throw into the atmosphere, that karma will come back to us. Maybe not immediately, maybe not in an obvious way….but looking back at past events, what energy we sent out was eventually returned, throughout the course of history.

So what’s my point here? No real conclusion I guess….except that if we take whatever happens not just as a casual occurrence but as a vital link in the dominos of events that are to lead us to our eventual target, then life will stop being a daily struggle against odds. It will regain the magic and charm we remember as kids.