Annie – The Protector

Took Long Scientific Personality Test at Yoza’s suggestion.

“The protector type is called such because you feel your life is best used to protect those you love from the pitfalls of life, to see to their safety and security. You belong to the larger group called guardians. You find great satisfaction in assisting the downtrodden. You are not talkative with strangers, but you can chat tirelessly with those you trust. You have a good solid work ethic. You are thorough and very likely frugal. You do not like to be in a place of authority, and will delegate poorly if forced into a lead position. You share your type with 10% of the population.

“As a romantic partner, you are generous and gentle. Occasionally you may be taken for granted because of this fact. You are tireless in providing acts of service for your loved ones. You run the risk of always being exhausted because you won’t say no to your partner. You are sensitive to criticism and will withdraw rather than fight back. You wish to be appreciated for your loyalty and whole hearted nuturing. Your values must be respected and you thrive on consideration and kindness.

“Your group summary: Guardians (SJ)
Your Type Summary: ISFJ

You scored 36% I to E, 53% N to S, 14% F to T, and 37% J to P!”

Dolls of Hollywood

Yes this is how I spend my time.

Kim Chan’s voice is comparable to a nightingale, but Mattelified celebrities win me over.

Angelina Jolie

Day Ninetythree

All men are addicted to porn. Except Eugene who claims total indifference, but you know, who knows. And don’t ask how we found ourselves amidst such a discussion because I’m not quite sure I want to remember.

Quite fair to say that most women are in various degrees of disapproval regarding their partner’s pornography habits. I categorise my level of reproach as “moderate”. It may have been “low” had I refrained from venturing far enough to comparatively study the importance of porn and, well, me.

Day Ninetytwo

They say that when you meet ten people, two won’t like you, two will, and the rest won’t care. With regards to the person about to be discussed, I’m one of the former.

She works for Corum Health Services. I found her among her colleagues in the dispensary when I arrived at work on Monday morning. She was a hefty woman with arms circumferencially equivalent to my thighs, and hair of a most unnatural tangerine. The chirpy, simpering qualities of her voice was juxtaposed with the testosterone-infused vocals of her colleagues.

Several chairs were moved into the dispensary to accommodate four extra arses and one hot-air balloon in a pencil skirt. Mirjana was furious about the mass invasion of her personal space.

I observed these people curiously. The men smiled back politely and the woman sneeringly looked me up and down, and it was then that I decided I did not like her.

Day Eightynine

Sitting in UNSW computer lab. Craving sushi.

I grudgingly admit that UNSW comp-labs are awesome. I also grudgingly regret the outrageously early closing-hours adopted by USyd. Lastly and irrelevantly I grudgingly accept the reality that no sushi is going honour my digestive tract any time soon. Because as much good a study environment as this is (though at the moment the goodness wanes due to reasons I’ll disclose soon), I’m in the middle of nowhere, as is the Maccas branch across the road in which I hold absolutely no interest.

One thing that I find unconditionally irritating is fobs that feel as if a quiet word is a wasted word. The girl sitting in the row before mine is begging for my fist through her face. Understandably she can’t help her accent but she can help her volume and despite being told to shut up a short while ago by a row-mate of mine she maintains her vociferous bleats like the other 30 people in this room weren’t here.

Long afternoon ahead.

Day Eightyseven

I have the drug song stuck in my head.

I’m somewhat embarrassed not so much because I liked it, but because I was delighted to find that I knew the indications for nearly all drugs mentioned, and had they adopted a slightly slower pace perhaps I would have had time to ponder contraindications and adverse events too.

Day Eightythree

Swoon!

I’m often thinking, if Jez and I have babies, I hope they inherit his grin and my eyes.

What if I could pick bits and pieces out of everyone I know and put them on my baby? Granted, the baby will probably turn out looking retarded because it’ll be chock full of features that despite being attractive don’t fit together. One can still dream.

So I’m thinking … my eyes. Jenny’s lashes. Abhi’s nose. Jez’s lips. Mylinh’s skin. Sameer’s teeth.

If you think this sounds odd, wait until I’m bored enough to compile the above into a mangled photo.