Unwelcome advice…

Monday 27th July 2009

Hello again!

Well, not so much to report this time around. The dissertation deadline looms, and myself and most of my friends have been locked in our rooms chained to our laptops. I have personally reached a stage where I’m so sick of reading and re-reading paragraphs over and over that I basically can’t bear to work on it at all at the moment!

However, what amusing anecdotes can I regale for your amusement this time?

Well, last week I accidentally set my kitchen on fire, but I maintain that that was not my fault at all, except in a technical way.
I was cooking bangers and mash for a few of my classmates (a lot of them are international students who have never tried such a classic british meal!), as we’ve been getting together once a week to discuss our issues, problems and general dissertation-related nightmares.

I haven’t cooked sausages for a while, being veggie these days, and I forgot how much fat they release! As I was cooking, I suddenly noticed that the fat at the bottom of the pan was spitting, and where it hit the grill at the top, sparks were coming off it.
I said to the group that I though it was going to catch fire, and I should turn it off, but the boys laughed at me, and told me I was being ridiculous, such a wuss, etc. I have to admit, my pride bristled a bit, so I went against my better judgement and trusted them. And then five minutes later the oven burst into flames. Of course, once the whole thing had actually gone up in flames, my reaction was to stand there screaming “Oh my god it’s on fire!!! It’s on fire!!! Fire! FIRE! Whadda we do? whaddawedowhaddawedo???” It was extremely hard to put out, as you can’t chuck water on a fat fire, obviously, but to beat out the flames, you would first have to reach inside the wall of flames to pull the pan out of the grill. Eventually, H managed it by wrapping a tea-towel round his hand, pulling the flaming grill pan out, and beating out the flames with an oven glove.

It was all a bit dramatic, but then, after the event, the boys had the nerve to laugh at me and my totally useless girly reaction of panicking and screaming. They asked me what I would have done if they hadn’t been there to “save me”, and I pointed out rather snippily that if I had been on my own, I would have turned the grill off 10 minutes earlier when I first thought it was going to catch fire and avoided the whole thing!

So, my new rule is to never take cooking advice from men, particularly when the words “ridiculous”, “wuss” or “girly” are involved. I’d rather be a wuss than burnt to a crisp.

Also last week, I went for a routine check-up and was informed by the nurse that I am both fat and old, which was rather harsh. I was a bit upset by her comments when she “can’t do anything about the ageing process, dear” – as if I’d asked her to!

Then she made some very condescending comments about my weight, and told me that she “wouldn’t write my weight down on my chart”, as that might embarrass me!
Of course, after her little tirade, she attempted to take my blood pressure with a fancy little electric machine. Now, I’m sure you can all imagine how that went…. The first two times it read “error” after pumping up and releasing all the air. I tried to joke about how maybe I just didn’t have a pulse in that arm, but that only got me a glare. I then attempted to explain, rather futiley, about my peculiar problem with technology, but she simply said it must be the battery dying. However, to check it, she tried it on herself, and was baffled when it worked perfectly.

THEN she looked at me suspisciously, and asked if I’d had a particularly stressful morning! As if my blood pressure must be so high I’d broken it!
I commented then that I had naturally very low blood pressure anyway, (while in my head I screamed “Stressful bloody morning???? It was fine until I got here and you told me I’m fat and old, you mean cow!!!!!”). Eventually she got another machine, and finally admitted that my blood pressure was nice and low.

Anyhoo, after a bit of a rant to my mates, I got over the fat and old comments, at least until Friday, when the guy I quite like stood me up, after we’d made plans to go out. I sent him a message, but got no reply on Friday, or Saturday, or Sunday, or Monday…..etc. At that point I did actually have a nasty moment when I thought, “Oh God, she’s right, I am fat and old!”, but I’m now fairly certain the guy just changed his mind about me, and obviously just isn’t interested. Which is a shame, cos he was really nice, but nevermind.

If this feels like a rather bleak email, don’t worry, it’s only temporary. I’m actually feeling awful at the moment, as I haven’t slept well in several days, so I’m permanently exhausted (and most of you know how badly I need my sleep! I can turn exceptionally irritable when tired!). I’ve also spent most of today with a nasty headache, and feeling cold, shivery, weak, achey, and sweaty.
I suspect I’m either so stressed out that my body has had enough, or else I’m coming down with something, (hopefully not swine flu, cos I seriously can’t afford to be ill with only 2 weeks to go to finish my dissertation!). However I don’t actually have a fever or sore throat or any other flu symptoms yet, so maybe I’m just slowly shutting down. It would be ironic if, given my aversion to technology, someone found me on my bed one day, with a little message saying “Maya has shut down unexpectedly. Please push belly-button to restart.”

fat, old and not very well Maya

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