http://www.bunnyshop.org/ AND stuff

(this pic is not from said page)

Not sure what this webpage is really abt. It seems to be run by some slightly eccentric college student with strong opinions on fashion.

It's not quite my fashion, per se, since I fancy myself rather kitsch-indie/punk/goth/alternative (when in reality, I am WASP-ish, well-heeled cracker central, except not white)... but it is fascinating. Perhaps even morbidly so. I cannot tear myself away from odd, 3rd person mini-rants on brands I've never heard of (are they available for less than $30? then why would I freaking care), styles I didn't know were coming in, much less going out or being taken to the street.

In a similar vein... you know, we doctor-y types actually do have the spare one or two Gs that could ostensibly be blown on odd things like "classic" handbags from funny brands like Chloe. But is that really what we really want to be doing with our cash? ......... NO, becoz there's no such thing as a "classic bag" unless your fashion sense died long ago when Chanel's power suits were a new thing. Goddamn it people, you're not gonna want the same freaking shit at 25 as at 45, and if you do, either you're dead or your boring and lack innovation and originality.

...Goddamn, I've got to stop reading that page. It makes me silly... and poncy. And I sure as hell wasn't like that before ;)

In other news, my darling dad (step) became a nominated member of parliment 2 days ago. And while my family are apolitical and my father decidedly lacking in political ambition, this is just one of those cute, silly things that happens, I guess. Apparently, there's news media footage http://straitstimes.asiaone.com/ but it seemed largely focused on other candidates :P. Poo.

My dad's a star though, and having gained him only a few years back through marriage, I feel forever young whenever he's discussed.. or seen, or teased. As if my childhood could be re-lived, recaptured and made right just becoz he's here now.

Finally, I thought I'd say again that I've found the love of my life and his, like my papa's, existence makes many things right.

Fool

15 minutes ago I realized that there are indelible things abt me.

A car spun out in front of mine. Across all lanes of freeway north. There was smoke and the air was sharp with burning rubber and rain, and even though nothing obvious occured other than that, I paused ... and stopped. Another car stopped behind me. But initially, I had stopped alone.

As I walked up to the crash site, now 300m behind my car, I thought abt all the things I'd want to hear if I picked up the Triage 1 call in ED. And I was calm. And part of me considered what would happen if the passengers were dangerous, if they were hurt, if I was alone and I really was the first doctor on the scene.... and I kept walking.

I hate myself for that. I hated myself for standing my ground, the other concerned driver (another girl) now by my side, as I confronted drunk bikies gibbering on abt "people out to get [their] families". I hated myself for this becoz I would still have stopped. Even if I was alone, even knowing the occupants were dodgy. Becoz I realized that I didn't care abt me. Becoz this was the right fucking thing to do and I couldn't help but do it.

The occupants were drunk, maybe even high too. But they were walking away from the scene, walking and talking. Oriented, really. And ultimately, the other driver and I left them in the hands of the towies.

I've become something alien to myself.

Hardly self-aware before, I've become this thing, this fool and made the transformation without even noticing.

I swore I'd never care and never stop and never look back, but there I was. Becoz I knew that if

I didn't stop and they were hurt, maybe no one else would. And I hated myself for knowing that it would be better if I was there handing over the the ambulance staff than most other people.

How did I become this abomination? So comfortable in my medical skin that I would stop and

think that I could do it? I could actually fucking help?

It made me realize that this is my life now and this is who I am. And ultimately, I am a soft touch and I will die before I let anyone else come close.

I don't know who this person is anymore. I'm certainly not the person I profess to be. Certainly not the person I'd like to be. Somewhere in between, I exist in the murky depths, horrifying myself whenever I catch sight of my own reflection.

Goddamn it, how did this fucking happen?