All roads lead to Rome...

... do they?

I am now in Rome, Italy with Loon to try and experience the Christmas near the holy city of Vatican City.
It is quite an eye opener except that the streets are really quite dead and not very happening.
It is quite dangerous here because you have strange men looking into your eyes, fiercely or just lecherously and it is definitely not as safe as even Newcastle.
The internet cafes charge at exhorbitant prices and we have almost emptied our pockets trying to go online to settle academic stuff as well as confirm flights.
But Vatican City is a real eye opener for those who are planning on an Italy trip.


Will post pictures up when i reach france - meanwhile Rome has 1.5 days to impress us before we move onto Venice.

And not to mention, we had authentic Italian pastas and pizzas - albeit expensively - but the real thang! =)

The glass is half empty.

Heard of a saying 'The light ahead is that of an oncoming train in a tunnel?'
I find it really funny because when u realise there may be hope, you find more crap coming your way, where its like the train approaching you full-speed when you think its a light in darkness.
Sure, I used to think the glass is half full,
but now, no - its half empty, by any measures.
Maybe my pessimism comes with this cynical feeling that the days dont seem to come better.
How does one finish 4 essays (2 of 4000 words each, 1 of 1000 and 1 of 2500 words with complete referencing of minimum 15 books each), pack room and move out, travel in europe, study for spanish test?
Just when I thought i had finished one essay on identities and things would get smoother.
Bleah.

This is my room, with my little decorations to make it more warm and cosy.

















Pretty right? It's these beautiful lights that cheer me up amidst dreary afternoons which become so dark, so soon.

Don't be fooled though, the only reason my room looks pretty ok is because its in the dark.
Here is the truth:
















Yup, I know my room is a little too pinky but I seem to have taken a fancy to that colour since my room's paint is in sickly green. This is me - my mess. I think you can pretty much see I am not an organized person.

But I have my own order in the mess - luan(4) zhong(1) you(3) xu (4). That is probably why I can find my stuff in the disorder, cos I probably know which area I threw my stuff. =) Heh.

Anyway, here is the broader view of my humble room, which I really love. It's been with me throughout this whole Exchange trip.













My lovely room boasts of:

1. a comfortable bound-to-make-you-fall-asleep-once-you-are-on-it bed
(or maybe i am just perpetually sleepy)

2. a big workspace of three tables

3. a floor that is constantly missing because my books and notes are strewn all over the place and i cant seem to see the floor

4. my good old laptop with its itunes playing melodiously and lulling me to sleep

5. a bear i bought to accompany me (people do get very lonely sometimes, you know)

6. souvenirs i got from germany, austria, czech republic, paris, london, dublin, amsterdam, glasgow

7. many slippers and a pair of boots to keep the cold frosty winds away

8. lots of Coke (i am a coke freak; and i prefer my glass of coke with ice filled to the brim, thank you very much)

9. library books (gender, class, freud, urban sociology, spanish - its a mini library here)

10. my coats and layers of clothes that make me feel so fat and big

11. of course me, without whom there'd be no messy room in the first place. :)



Anyway, I was telling Loon how much I miss Singapore food - that which you can get 24/7, not like here where I have to bear with my own cooking when i get hungry at midnight
:(
And he agrees, cos Singapore is so convenient with lots of yummy delicious food.

And so I sent him this picture I drew of food we both liked.
















And he started laughing.
I thought it was cos my food looks awful or the cockles ('ham' here) look weird.
But apparently, he had been reading too much of my Freud' s essay
and he says it somehow looks very wrong.
=(
See how too much Freud turns me into a repressed little monster?

Too Fast, Too Furious.

Time flies too fast, too furious, faster than you can say 'Whaaaat?'
It's the end of term for me already, and for this week, I've attended almost all my last lectures and seminars,
notwithstanding the last Sociology of Identities lecture tomorrow, which is a module I truly adore because it gives me such a depth of understanding of myself, and possibly because there's Freud. Who could possibly hate Freud when his psychoanalytic theories are so captivating and intriguing?
Well, I guess I could possibly hate him now that I am doing a 2500 word essay on him and the pressure is on doing well because I really like this topic but I am bogged with issues like moving out, packing,other 4 essays and such.
It's mind boggling cos I've got Freud's theories on my mind all day long and I really spend every waking moment thinking about how to answer that essay with depth and in a highly stylistic way.
It's stressful and I can concur with Loon that I am a stressful and perfectionist freak.
:(
It's hard to think when the pressure is caving in... and its 100% assessed.
and the other day, I just fell asleep reading his theories when I woke up dreaming about triangles, shapes and strawberries.
I wonder what Freud would say to that.

That said, its the last Spanish lecture I had today and I took pictures with my friends.
It's such a whirlwind affair with the Spanish language that I cannot believe I have had attended a whole year course cramped into half a year and the irony is,
I can't remember much.
Estoy no feliz.


I am so going to miss Newcastle.
Someone tell me how to stop time from slipping away,
I need to learn.

Going home.

I'm going home soon.
Ironically, that scares me quite abit.
Just when I finally settle down,
with my room routinely messed up and me forcing myself to be responsible by cleaning it up in the spurs of moment (read: very very good mood)
with my modules seemingly become easier and more understandable
with my Spanish getting slightly better (¿Hablas Español? Si, hablo un poquito Español y ¡ es bastante malo!)
with me being more and more familiar with the many routes I take to school, in particular the morning walks with the breeze in my hair which awakens sleepy moi,
with me being more and more in love with newcastle, a small but quaint and lively city.

And as I am now currently on exchange,
at this very moment I take my breath,
everything seems to be on a stand still.
Isabelle's clock seems to stop ticking.
She doesn't have to worry about tests, exams, grades (not so much anyway since it's S/U)
and she doesnt have to worry about when to graduate, or even to graduate at all
she doesnt have to worry about what she will be in the future
if she ever becomes somebody, at all
she doesnt have to worry about rushing here and there, to shuttle between giving tuition, working and being a student...
she doesnt have to have lack of sleep rushing projects
she doesnt have to start thinking.
or maybe, she still does.
Just not that much. For now.

Don't you love it when time seems to just stop for you, at this very moment?

A little time to stop.

Was on a rush to my last Soci of Identities seminar;
ironically, it was my first seminar as I had missed previous ones and there are relatively few seminars in the department

After munching a home made toasted sandwich with melted cheese and prawns with honey mustard and gulping down a glass of milk for my breakfast/lunch...

(note: i dont eat breakfast usually, but i was so hungry after last nite's work of poring through an academically written book on Making the Unborn Patient about fetal surgery for many hours until 5am)

i was in a hurry to go to the Bedson Building for my seminar when I saw a familiar person with a walking stick trying to find her way
It was someone who had always been seen on campus, with that familiar thud of walking stick
Many walked past her, including me
I knew I was gonna be late and it was not nice to be late for the first and last semester
and I was very unfamiliar with the directions.
but I had to stop immediately in my tracks because he/she was knocking into the parked cars at Ricky Road where I live

Never having helped anyone who was visually handicapped before
it honestly took a lot of courage to extend my help because I really didnt know what to do.
There were so many times I wanted to help
but I just didnt know how to and often wondered if my help was more trouble

But today, I made a little time to stop
and extended my arm for the person to hold my hand
I could not tell his/her gender, for the person had short cropped hair, dressed quite androgynously and had quite a feminine voice
but i know i had a nice time leading the person with my arm
The person wanted to go to Winsor Terrace but to not trouble me,
suggested that I led him/her to the Medical School instead where he/she would make his way along to Winsor Terrace
Since it was on my way, and I was not going to be very late,
I decided to lead him/her across the road and asked a mother with a child if she could assist the person as it was a little far off and I was not sure where Winsor Terrace was.
And the kind mother was a very helpful, and I am thankful for that.

The person is a third year History undergrad at Newcastle Uni and aims to do a Masters in History of medicine - we just chatted along and despite looks, it just became so natural leading him/her that it was like being with a new friend.

Everytime we went down a slope or were about to be very near some sharp shrubs,
I almost forget to let him/her know because
it had become second nature to me
because I can see
and it was just so natural for me to slow down in case of slopes, avoid the lane with the thorny shrubs or just skip away when there is a puddle of water
but I had taken for granted what I have
that I was reminded of my gift of sight when I reminded the person that we were going to go down a slope/in the direction of shrubs.

Sometimes, all it takes is a little time to stop
to be reminded of how lucky I am.