Medical check-up update: I had my Mantoux test for tuberculosis exposure at the hospital yesterday. The doctor injected a bubble of tuberculosis-virus protein between the layers of skin on my forearm, and it stood out like a big white blister for about fifteen minutes before it diffused into the skin. He used the highly technical procedure of using biro to mark where the injection was and told me to re-draw the circle every time I wash it off in the shower. I've decided to use my own equally scientific procedure which is not to bother. The test measures whether you (a) get a reaction (in which case it will be obvious where you were injected) or (b) don't get a reaction (in which case it doesn't matter either way). And anyway I can navigate by the freckle on my inner arm.

I also went back to Health Services Australia to get my eyesight checked without contact lenses. They left me sitting on the bench for a minute or two and they left my medical file next to me. This gave me a chance to flip through the results of my blood tests and flagrantly waiver my right to ignorance about HIV infection. All negative. Fine.

Psychology test update: I'm heading down to Sydney this afternoon so I can get to the psych test at Defense Plaza, Pitt St for the 8:30 start. I'm catching the train so I can get some marking done on the way - sixty Occupational Health and Safety physics assignments. Lots of people have been giving me advice on the psych test: one of the professors here, who did the test in the eighties, says "it's dodgey anyway. You can pass it even if you're crazy. When I was down there one of the technicians was totally antisocial. He was totally up himself and thought the entire world was against him so he never got along with anyone. He was working on the alternate shift with a really great guy, totally his opposite, a huge cheerful islander bloke who hated his guts. Also they were both gay. It gave us all something to talk about, anyway." Also he said: "And then there was the chef who was stationed on Macquarie Island [a sub-Antarctic island south of Tasmania] who went nuts and started chasing people with a kitchen knife. They had to get the army to take him home." A member of my squash team who's a statistician told me "I don't know, I've come to the conclusion that psychology tests are a bit iffy." A guy I know who's a psychiatrist said: "The tests are all pretty straightforward actually. If they ask a question like 'Have you ever felt anxious about work' don't answer 'no, never' coz they'll know you're lying." The Antarctican at bigdeadplace.com says "The psych test is a joke. You would seriously have to be completely crazy not to pass it. Where they weed people out is in the psych interview given during the test. Just answer the questions like you know you should (especially the alcohol-related ones) and all will be good."

There are two possibilities here: (a) my friends are all telling the truth, or (b) my friends are all just trying to make me feel good coz they think I'll fail coz I'm kuh-RAIIIIzee!

Evidence for the latter point:
i. Admitting talking to a psychiatrist in a public weblog :)
ii. Use of emoticons!? Me!?
iii. Use of interrobangs. A certain sign of a deranged mind.

Update on real life: The This Is Not Art festival happened on the long weekend and was chockers with amazing people. I may wangle a deal writing updates for the revised edition of Antarctica Lonely Planet. In other news, I'm busy and should be working now.