St. Patrick's Day

I actually spent Paddy's day (as the Irish affectionately refer to it..) in Ireland this year as I'm usually on easter vacation around this time. Didn't get one this year, which sucks. It was a crazy day, copious amounts of C2H5OH were consumed and the whole thing degenerated into a farce by 8.30pm.

But enough about that, there was an interesting point that I noticed today that I thought I'd write about in my blog. If you're at all squeamish or are uncomfortable with mentions of human anatomy, then you can stop reading right about now. You have been warned. Hope you had fun, see you again next time.

Now, I was heading to the toilets and I noticed a MASSIVE queue in front of the ladies' washroom. Girls were just hanging out in front of the toilet not just waiting for a stall, but waiting to GET INTO the damn place. The gents on the other hand was a model of efficiency. You're in and within 2 minutes you're out again. You don't wait for a stall, you head to the urinals. This made me kind of question the wisdom of the location of the female urethral orifice. Why down there where its so inconvenient? It only points in one direction and removal of clothing is required for usage! Factoring in that womens' bladders are infinitely smaller than those of their male counterparts, it just adds to the whole hassle. Not only do you have to go through the process of lining up to use the toilet, you have to do it OFTEN! A design flaw, perhaps? Maybe its payback for having the ability to give birth to new life? There must be some kind of medical explanation for it (positioning of internal organs during pregenancy or something..) but I'm just not that avid a student to try and work it out. I guess I understand now the female fascination with peeing while standing up.. it does come in quite handy.

Man on Fire

If only I got paid as much as Denzel, then I might not be complaining..
Of course, this has nothing to do with any of that, what happened last night was probably THE most randomest thing I have ever experienced.

On the way back from this club, my friends and I stopped at McDonald's for a late night snack as we normally do.. the weather was nice, kind of cold but dry and cloudless.. we stood around outside for a bit while a friend of mine finished off his cigarette.. what happened next was very strange indeed..

As I walked into the place, I stared at the menu while trying to put together my caloric bomb of a meal.. a big mac, a mcchicken sandwich, some nuggets and fries? mmm.. maybe a eurosaver double cheese with fries, a bigmac and....

"Sir, you're on fire!"..

Excuse me? I turn around to look at the security guard of asian origin only to see him rushing over and grabbing me by the arm.. I resist at first as he tries to remove me from the premises.. I look at him and go "what the fuck man?".. so he hurriedly points to the back of my leather jacket and lo and behold, I AM on fucking fire..

There was a hole the size of a baseball burning through the back of my jacket.. there was smoke everywhere, I looked like a movie stunt gone horribly awry.. I rushed to the door and took my jacket off and started stamping on it to limit the damage.. next thing I know Mr. Security Man has a huge glass of water in his hand and he's pouring it all over my jacket AFTER I had already put the fire out.. what a dickhead..

Slightly stunned I walk back into the place, get my food and proceed on the long walk back home with my comrades. Halfway there it hits me.. why the HELL was my jacket on fire? Who would do such a thing? After a labored thought process we eventually decided that a cigarette couldn't possible have set a leather jacket on fire, and that someone must have used a lighter or some matches.. BUT WHY? How would you feel if you saw someone walk into a restaurant with his clothes on fire, smoke plumes everywhere, and he was completely oblivious to the fact? I'd be quite freaked out to be honest..

Whoever did this, I'm going to find you and burn your house down you asshole.

Crazy People

Ever wonder why sometimes there's a thick plate of glass between you and whoever it is that's providing a service for you? You know, like in a bank.. or at train stations. Security is the most obvious answer, and you would be correct in assuming so.. but most of these thick plates have holes in them so you can communicate with the person on the other side instead of attempting to lip-read..

This morning, on my way to the Kilbarrack Health Center for a part of my psychiatry rotation, I had to take the train. When I got to my destination, I asked the man behind the thick plate of glass (who happened to also be selling tickets, not just hanging out..) about the whereabouts of said center. He said a few things, pointed in my general direction and said "fuck".. I got pretty freaked out by the weirdo, smiled and walked away hurriedly.. further down the road I reached a "fork" and realised, to my relief, what the man was going on about.. shame, he seemed like a nice guy.. what could've been the start of a great friendship was nipped in the bud by an unnecessary lack of holes in a thick plate of glass.

Female Beauty

Finally got around to reading "The Da Vinci Code".. a bit late, but hey.. I was busy reading other books..
*if you're planning on reading it, then the rest of this post might be a slight spoiler*

Good book, interesting premise, annoying storyline.. the ideas in the book were new to me, to be honest.. I always percieved the "Holy Grail" to be a wooden cup of Jesus, like in Indy Jones.. you know, the one where it ends in the dumb Nazis going for the craziest chalice with the most bling and end up dying and shit..

Anyway, that's besides the point.. what I wanted to go on about today was more than just the concept of the "chalice" or the "grail" as stated in the book.. all that historical relic stuff was all interesting and fitted well in the framework of the story (which I found annoyingly stop/start, as though the author intended to make the job of the screenplay writer a lot easier when importing it onto the big screen).. what struck me most was the book's insight into the symbolism and ideas of "the sacred feminine"..

Makes you stop and think, don't it? Jesus had a wife and kids? The Da Vinci painting of "the last supper" showing his wife, Mary Magdalene, sitting next to him on the table along with all the other apostles? Now, I'm a muslim myself so I'm not taking this in any religious aspect, simply commenting on what I've read and seen as a human being. Might be simplistic, might be wrong or skewed.. but I don't want a shitload of comments delving into religious or moral issues.. this is a simple blog written by a simple man who's talking about a simple idea..

Men and women complementing each other.

The belief present in males that they can control the destiny of the human race unassisted is quite unfortunate. Males tend to be physically stronger, tend to be more aggressive in nature. Taking that as a whole and looking at the current political and cultural climate in the world, you can see a dangerous route of destruction and bloodshed ahead. Political ideologies at war, and who are the politicans in the highest echelons of power? Men. Religions at war, and who are the clerics, priests and rabbis with the most influence? Men.

It seems that without the counterbalance of the female, male ego and ambition for power can run unchecked and lead the whole race to self-destruction. If females dominated the world in the exact reverse situation, the world would be going to shit for reasons I can't even begin to fathom. The whole system is fucked if power and control lay in the hands of one sex.

Unfortunately, current cultural and religious beliefs tend to predominantely state that women are an inferior sex, and must be treated as such. Even in the so-called "civilized world", women are still struggling for their full rights. Granted, they might have their basic rights given back to them as opposed to places like Saudi Arabia where they are treated like glorified animals.. but that touches on my main point: Why is it that men are GIVING women those rights? Its less a case of giving than giving BACK. How come those rights were taken away to begin with; and why and when did this happen? When did the yang decide to dispose of the yin and run the show? Doesn't it know that without its other half it no longer represents a whole circle, instead it just looks like a stupid piece of turd?

My questions are simply a matter of observation, a matter of logic.

Alright, back to work for me. Maybe next time I'll write about the state of my freezer or something more docile. All this thinking makes my head hurt.

The Commute

On an Obstetrics and Gynaecology rotation at the moment (would rather not talk about it to be honest) in a town called Drogheda, north of Dublin. Drogheda is about an hour's train ride away and, as my luck would have it, the train station is a five minute walk away from my house. I commute on a daily basis, usually leaving the house at around 7am and coming back at 6pm. The rotation is two months long.



There is much that could be said about my distaste for the subject matter of the rotation and my arduous daily trek to the hospital, but the topic of this post is "the commute" and so it shall remain faithful to its heading. Commuting is an interesting concept, having to leave your home on a (week)daily basis in order to reach your location of work, the place where you make money to feed your family, cloth your children and spend on other worldly joys (such as cars, and "bling"). When I first started "commuting", I was amazed by the whole thing. It filled me with a secret sense of pleasure that I'm doing a very "grown up" thing, travelling many miles to reach "my workplace" the hospital. Of course, at the hospital I'm just another useless, corridor-obstacle medical student.. but that doesn't sway my sense of pride in my commute. I travelled far to become a useless corridor-obstacle, and I'll be damned if I'm gonna let Mr. Bigshot Consultant ruin it for me.



Now, the first few weeks or so I managed to wake up and attend purely for being able to ride the train back and forth. I would pack a book and read it on the way, and then look forward to catching the train back and reading some more. I must admit, I'm a sucker for trains. For some reason, I love taking trains. I make it my sacred duty to commit to memory any underground rail map that may exist in any city that I may visit. Weird, I know, but hey.. we all have our quirks, so back off buddy.



So, being that I've rarely used the railway system in place in Ireland, I found this opportunity very exciting. And I was going to do this on a daily basis too, so its gonna kick ass! Right?



Wrong. Five weeks, three books and countless commuting hours later and I've become completely jaded. No longer do I walk to the station with a big, youthful smile plastered across my face on those cold and rainy mornings. Now I just stare blankly ahead and look like all the other commuters. Just wanting to be somewhere else, doing something different.



message from an intoxicated beauty: "Don't forget the soldiers of The Great War".

Appropriate, especially since I'm in a knowledge-thirsty WWII phase right now.

Golf

Golf is a great game.



I started playing golf about a year ago, and its been quite an interesting journey. Tiger Woods PGA Tour 2004 on the Xbox got me initially interested in the sport (and gave me some basic knowledge as to what it entails) and then frequent visits to the driving range almost drove me away from the thing all together. It was horrible. I couldn't hit the ball at first, and then when I managed to do so it just rolled rather than soaring like a beautiful golf shot should. I refused lessons mainly because the golf club in Bahrain (yes.. THE golf club.. there's only one.) charges a king's ransom for a handful of 30 minute lessons. In retrospect, one or two lessons would've really sped the development of things.. but hey, no use crying over spilt beer eh?



Slowly but surely I pieced together what now resembles a golf swing, and with visits to courses both in Dublin and Bahrain, I really started loving the sport. I played a round of 18 holes the other day, shot 5 pars and ended up finishing under par (I'm a 36 handicap.. which is pretty bad). This was basically a culmination of practice and pyschology, where I learned to let go of the ingrained idea of hitting the ball as hard as possible and beating my opponent.. and learned to embrace the idea of just going out there and having fun. After all, golf is about bettering your own performance, and not out-driving your fellow golfers for distance.



Alright, enough sounding like some golf motivational manual..



*queue solo piano in the background*

The point I wanted to get across was that maybe for once in my life I've recognized that not everything is a competition.. that fun could be had without necessarily gloating about kicking some other dude's ass in a certain sport or videogame.



*piano music abruptly ends*

Hahaha! That was funny, I almost believed that one myself..!

Videogames and sports are all about kicking ass. There's no substitute to winning. Don't let anyone tell you otherwise.

Shady Construction

My apartment block is 8 years old. I've been living in my apartment for 3 years now.. nice little place, reasonable rent..



Given that the whole complex has only been up for 8 years, you'd expect the place to be well constructed (1996 might've been a while ago, but they still had the technology back then!).. but the emphasis was visibly placed on aesthetics instead of a properly planned building. Sure, it looks nice.. but how well built is it?



Don't get me wrong, we're not talking about negligence of Egyptian proportions here (buildings in Egypt have a frightning tendency to completely collapse a year or two after construction).. simply Irish short-sightedness we've all come to expect at this point. Example? The pipes are so poorly insulated that all the heat dissipates through the walls and upwards. Being that I live at the very top floor, this provides me with a cheap and non-ending source of heat. I haven't turned on the heating in THREE years.. I don't care how cold it is out there, as long as I'm in my house its completely perfect. This isn't much of a worry, since I'm getting free shit (and I love getting free shit).. but a recent problem has arisen that prompted me to write this post. Apparently the water pressure is too high in the building as well. What does this mean, I hear you (or not) ask? Well, this basically means that the high water pressure attacks my washing machine (for more about my washing machine, refer to my earlier post about the damn thing).



This results in leakage, intermittent function and general anxiety and frustration on my behalf.