Alooone

Sigh...here I am currently bored out of my wits, sitting in Dubai International Airport on my lonesome.

Its a beautiful airport, but I'm resenting being forced to stay here for the next 2 hours or so...then having to hop on a plane AGAIN for another long haul flight back home, by the by stopping Sri Lanka for an hour or so. What I wouldn't do to get home...

I've been putting on a rather blase front about it, but I realise I'm actually pretty worried about my exams. Despite my many brush-offs, its really been a roller coaster of 10 weeks, and I do want to distinguish myself academically. Doesn't everyone?

Can't wait to reach home! 12 hours time! So many things I want to do: eat, get a haircut, and most of all SHOWER. And also, my maiden voyage on the roads. Hurhurhur.

Tis the Season to be jolly, Falalalala, lalalala!

I need better one-liners.

Post Exam Stress

After a tumultous first day of exams where I mistook a spleen for a kidney (I swear it was kidney-shaped!), and decided against (to my detriment) putting my unwashed fingers into a stranger's mouth to remove his tongue from his airway, I really need a break.

So I took a little traipse down to Central London (clocked it at one and a half hours tube ride), and booked myself some time with 'Dr' Yang Lee from the Imperial University Science department.

There...a picture of the good 'doctor', who didn't deign to share his brolly with me despite the rain.

A little picture to jog some of your memories. A familiar sight no? Ah...twas a more uncomplicated time.

Lastly, a bad photo of us together. Blurry, because the damn yang refused to stay still.

I want to go home.

The best time ever

My first exam paper starts tomorrow and yet here I am, slave to the age of Information Technology.

Its been a quick, albeit not painless eight weeks. I've felt every day, though now when I look back they blur into a mass of ambivalence. I've grown miserable for lack of choir, and all the benefits that come with it (I refer to the PEOPLE). Of course, not ALL the eight weeks have been completely without their moments of brevity...the trip to Barcelona, numerous trips up to Cambridge, mucking around the Dissection Room...but the crowning glory...

This weekend, a mere five days before my exam, I left by my lonesome on a 2hour train journey from London King's Cross to YORK, for what can only be described as the sole shining light in the past...twilight of 8 weeks.

That's Jo and me in York Minster Cathedral. Why else would I be so happy right? Not like there's a lot to see in York...I mean the scenery and ducks are ok, and eons better than Tooting, but face it, Cambridge rocks when it comes to scenery, as shown earlier. It is of course taken for granted, that anything is better than Tooting.

Jo has to be the luckiest girl in the entire world...brilliant flatmates, ensuite room, Poundland a bus ride away...oh the grass is SO greener on her side.

Ok! That's it from me! Back to considering the implications of end-life decision making. Ta!

For those of you who didn't know what Ronaldinho goal I was talking about...