I'm Not Asleep, My Eyes Are Just Closed

When I was twelve, I had a good friend who I think was way too ahead of everyone at school. She had ideas that didn't conform to the norm, talked of rebellion against teachers and of places that I've never heard of. She was a lot more mature than me, on hindsight, and her taste in men reflected it. She used to rave about an actor called Daniel Day-Lewis, son of celebrated poet Cecil Day-Lewis. At that time, I had heard of neither, nor would I have been interested in any movies that Daniel starred in or read any of the works of his father. My friend showed me a picture of him, hair all gelled up and wearing a tuxedo at some fancy awards do. She was practically drooling over him but I didn't think he was handsome at all, rather funny-looking in fact. Of course at that age, the opposite sex barely registered on my radar. If someone twisted my arm and insisted I name somebody who I thought was cute, I would probably go with Joe from New Kids On The Block, or Corey Haim.(Althoug

I'm back in Liverpool after nearly four weeks in Ireland. It's great to be back in my own place but the house is resoundingly silent. And dusty. My housemate's on call tonight so she won't be back till late. Suddenly, it sucks to be alone, and I've never been one for disliking my own company. Anyway, I had a good time in Ireland, apart from the time my face swelled up and I leaked pus from my face, but hey, that could have happened anywhere! I've gained a kilo in weight since my sister-in-law feeds me so well and I've basically sat on my arse 90% of the time because my sinus problems have knocked the energy out of me. Okay, that's an excuse, but I need to seriously shed some pounds before I see my mother and all the skinny people in Malaysia in 3 weeks time. Nothing like being back home to make me feel like a lumbering giant. I've been to Dublin several times but I've never done the whole tourist thing properly. I did manage to go to Dublin Castl

The thing with critics is, even if they do say some bad things, if they do it in a witty and amusing fashion, you can almost forgive them. Of course if they critique somebody else instead of you, they're even more hilarious. My niece, the early-riser, likes to come into my room if she know I'm awake, or if she's plain bored. Sometimes she just chats away, and I nod and listen and pretend I understand. Today, we were playing a 'monster' game as she climbs underneath my duvet and both of us go "RRRRRrrrrrrr!". Niece then says, "You haven't brushed your teeth." Now, I could take offence at that. Certainly if it wasn't expressed by a little girl in a pink polka dot dress. But think again on the sophistication of this comment. You are four months short of your fourth birthday. You are playing a game with your favourite aunt. While in close proximity with said aunt, you detect a sour smell. You recognise this smell as the smell of foul breath.

Caution: Do not read further if you are of the queasy type and/or never liked it when I discussed bodily functions. People in the health profession tend to to fall into two groups when it comes to their own health: they're either closet hypochondriacs or they are perpetually in self-denial of their symptoms and their unhealthy lifestyle. Which is why, the doctor's code of conduct does not encourage doctors to treat themselves. Most of the time it is easiest to prescribe stuff for yourself rather than go your own general pactitioner. It works for simple prescriptions like a one-off course of antibiotics. So when the eczema on my face started to deteriorate past mildly irritating to full-scale fingernail attack, I got myself some hydrocortisone cream. Worked fine for 3 days after which I stopped. I know you're supposed to continue for seven days but my skin gets horribly paper thin on steroids so I decide not to continue beyond three days. I had a few days free of problems be