My 'Roland Garros'

I have been diligently watching any Live matches streamed on BBC Sport that I can get my hands on to be in tune with the Roland Garros fever. It is amazing how you can just sit there and watch them drive those powered shots down the line, across the court, pound those aces....and you almost, ALMOST imagine that it was actually that easy and you could achieve all of that too.

Like I said, reality bites. I have never been a gifted athlete, and your mid twenties isn't exactly the best time for any of that to change.

So after 10 or possibly 12 years of not touching a tennis racket, I decided to try playing the game again. Much thanks to Chekkie for lending me her racket.

Prior to today's scheduled game with LX and friends, I remembered again how easy it was for me to be obsessed with the game all those years back - which was why my cousin and I decided to beg our parents to let us join the tennis club and take up lessons.

I have been much deprived of tennis matches with no TV in my place...but I remember how easy it was to OD on the Wimbledon, on the Australian Open - shouting to myself while watching them play, or most of the time....gaping in awe at Federer and his complacent composure. I remembered as well, how I went overboard buying tennis outfits, mixing and matching the skorts with different tops - I should have sensed my shopaholic tendency back when I was a mere 13 year old teenager - to be decked out in the fanciest tennis gear possible, only to drop the game after less than a year.

So, today, my first dapple at tennis after a decade proved to be....interesting. I had underestimated how different it was to squash in terms of speed and the height of the ball bouncing. Of the importance of body positioning and how difficult the tennis backhand was. And how I could not even hit a single ball straight down the line - which was shocking because this was my specialty in squash.

I had forgotten how much I missed being able to play racket games regularly, whenever I wanted, with people who could actually play the game. It took me this long to realise how much I missed playing at the National Squash Centre with Bikash and Chui Munn and other people who could play. And it took me this long to remember that JH was a tennis player, not a squash player, and that I should have probably started picking up the game when he was still around.

Oh well, it's never too late to start. I have missed being sporty. I have missed being athletic. And even though I am no regular multi-talented athlete at heart, I am willing to give tennis a shot. Who knows.....I might turn out to be a shadow (at most) of my Djoker ;)

RPK in London

PS: Excuse the frightful quality of pictures. This was the most my BB could do.

Last weekend, Hanna and I decided to be EVEN more insightful and learned and attended a political lecture by 'hardcore' (some might even go as far as infamous?) Malaysian blogger, RPK (Raja Petra Kamaruddin) at the BPP Law School in Holborn. Much thanks to LX who informed me that he was speaking that Saturday - the pseudo Malaysian that I am does not follow Malaysia Today. Time to turn over a new leaf. What say you? ;)

I did not regret attending the lecture at all. Was a little skeptical at first. Again, emphasising on the 'pseudo Malaysian' bit in me, there was little that I actually knew about the Internal Security Act (ISA) apart from the fact that, well, there WAS an ISA in Malaysia. But then I realised, this was almost as though I was going to meet a Malaysian celebrity in London *puts on Bimbo cap* and definitely not a chance to be missed.

The two hours flew by without my realising it, and I was enthralled with every single word that he spoke. It is possibly rare, and shocking even, to find a writer who is equally charismatic, captivating, unafraid to speak his mind with an equally fabulous sense of humour to boost - and RPK was all of the above AND more. My Saturday was made just by laughing aloud at his quips of sarcasm and dry humour, and my heart went out to him when he recreated the horrendous scenes of the detention centre. That much courage, I certainly did not have. And kudos to him for that amazing showcase of indigence, or more simply put in his words 'being a stubborn bastard'.

On the previous 'bimbotic' note, you know that you are in a celebrity's 2 metre radius when he is flanked by two massive, sunglass-clad, scary-looking, KGB Member Lookalikes who stood on either side of him throughout the entire event, and even escorted him into the lift at the lobby before it began. Again, because I have been watching and reading radical, political and terrorist-themed material all weekend (read: Munich), this made me realise how easy it would be for someone like him to be in a great amount of potential danger, because there were as many people out there who probably thought of him alot more than merely a 'stubborn bastard'.

End note: There is much that we lament every day about our country and the state it is getting to these days. How corruption used to be a thing of deeply-sworn secrecy in the past, but now the cheating even went on with the cards on the table. People think that the government is screwed up, and a tsunami of a change could bring about 'revolution'. I say this is true theoretically, but it isn't all as easy as it sounds. And coming from me, who is almost pseudo Malaysian (only in terms of Food, I insist!) and lacks patriotism rather significantly - all I can say is that I wish I had done more in terms of following up on politics and getting to know the country better before this.

After all, home is still home.

And Malaysia, TRRRUUULLYYY Asia, is mine.

Insight

In the midst of some late-night skyping with bestie Pei Hua on Friday, I came across the 1972 Munich Massacre while randomly googling stuff on Wikipedia (Don't ask me how I got there. I certainly wasn't googling 'Crazy Terrorist Acts of the 20th Century'). And this reminded me of those years back when I watched the movie 'Munich', starring the very endearing Eric Bana, with a bunch of guys, and was so horrified by all the violence and shooting back then. Did not, I might add, gain much insight into the actual historical event that this movie was based loosely on as well.

So, in my resolution to be more learned and insightful, I thought I'd download the movie again and re-watch it through different, more perceptive eyes.

Good move.

Even reading text of how the 11 innocent souls were so brutally slain during the 1972 Olympics on German soil had sent shivers down my back. To imagine yourself as one of those who was awoken in the midst of beauty sleep by gunshots and blood spattering on the wall, only to find yourself bound and dragged along to impending doom. But watching snippets of the massacre as flashbacks in the movie was an entirely different thing. By the end of it, I was horrified and incredibly sad. Both by the inhumanity of the terrorists and the huge fumbling of a rescue that the Germans had so clumsily executed.

The aftermath was of course, an entirely different tale of its own. A part of me realised this is possibly how schizophrenics actually COULD go off reeling on a different direction of their own. And how doing something as innocent as walking down a dark, rainy alley on a London road or picking up a telephone call could just end in bloodbath.

My point?

I'm not entirely sure I have one. This weekend has been filled with alot of reading of non-medical related stuff (KILL ME NOW), revisiting History, reviewing political pages, reading blog entries, listening to political lectures....but we will go there another day....and of course, catching up with my best friend.

And we have both agreed that life is short. We only live once. So seize the moment and make the most out of it.

No emo nemo. Time to buck up!

Ahoy Sailor!

You know summer is here when the sun pokes through your blinds at the unearthly hour of 5 am, waking you up, and at the very next extreme, you look up at the clock, only to start and realise it is 9 freaking pm, and you have not done any work, because you thought it was merely 7 pm or so.

Ahhh these summer days.

I grabbed the opportunity of not having to go into the wards and meet patients on Wednesday to prance into lectures / tutorials with my much-awaited unveiling of summer attire for the season - shorts and gladiator sandals, which got quite a number of comments from fellow friends. Lol. Sorry, this is what sun deprivation does to you.

One of the summer trends that I have been coveting after, and which have hit the streets hard this season, however, has got to be the Nautical look, which Hanna and I both have a huge thing for.

After much scouting around the High Streets, I finally got my hands on a nautical-inspired, striped shirt - and I love it already! I was able to dress it up with high-waisted black pants and a bib-style necklace to make it hospital-worthy for meeting patients on the wards; and on the other hand, I could possibly just throw it together with one of my many pairs of shorts or with three-quarter rolled-up chinos for a laid back look.

I love how it is so easy to pull off, yet defines that preppy look almost in an instant. Definitely my style! No-fuss yet structured.

I know the Nautical look isn't something particularly new - in fact most designers come up with Cruise Collections every summer, and I was first introduced to this by none other than the Fashion Queen herself, Blair Waldorf in Season 1:

Remember this look?

I don't think I'm quite ready for that, though. That would take some serious strutting of style, and an inch-perfect figure to date. So for the moment, I'll just stick with the understated and this:

So....what is your favourite summer trend?

The Foodie Club

I have never been a Foodie. Trust me, coming from the person who invented and popularised the 'Water Diet' (and has now failed to stick to it herself), there are many times when I eat something and I have entirely No Comment, for the simple reason that I can't really be bothered. Unless something is undeniably, glaringly bad, most of the stuff pretty much taste the same to me. In that way, I am no picky eater. But at the same time, I could do perfectly fine with foregoing alot of food as well.

But contrary to JH's popular belief and kind volunteering on my behalf that 'She doesn't eat!', I have improved tremendously in the past few years or so. Much thanks to my many food adventures with Pei Hua, Keng and Nick. (*ahem*loushufancoffinshop*ahem).

My biggest achievement to date, though, has to be our visit to Archipelago last Friday. I had been slightly apprehensive beforehand upon reading about scorpion, zebra, kangaroo, ostrich dishes, but decided what the hell. Hey, you only live once right? And since the restaurant gave Daph so much grief with its seemingly ever-full reservations and constant changing of our reservation times, I figured it had to be worth this hype.

And it didn't fail to disappoint, really!

(Pics credited to Daph and her amazing DSLR)

Menus in the form of Novels!

Kangaroo (Possibly the unanimous Favourite)

Zebra and Soba Noodles

Crocodile wrapped in leaves

Wildebeast

Next up: Foodie's Festival on 28/5/10 at Hampton Court.

I foresee the pounds piling on already. Might have to consider resurrecting the Water Diet after all these :)

Those Lovely Tresses

It is insane how fast my hair grows! Four months since my last haircut and I absolutely can NOT stand it already.

ARGHHH. Might just chop it all off next week. I foresee myself turning into Rapunzel by the end of July and boy, it is not a pretty picture, I assure you.

Long, long hair is definitely not my thing. DEFINITELY NOT.

Anymore of this and I might just go crazy and hack it all off....neck-length, bob-style. Pfftt.

Au Revoir. Till We Meet Again.

Had a fabulous fun-filled afternoon belting my lungs out with my 4 fabulous friends who so kindly offered some Singstar therapy to lift my spirits. Here's to Wei, Matun, LX and YL. You guys are the best! And also, kudos to the hidden talent of YLH who vehemently refused to participate, only to turn out to be a POPSTAR. Heheheh ;)

Weather unfortunately took a turn for the worse this week. Goodbye to shorts and coatless scurries to and from the hospital. Pfftt. I spiked a bit of a temp on Monday, which explained my incessant complaints of the cold in Hammersmith and to and from Heathrow. Seems to have turned into a bit of a flu as of now, but ahh well. I can't really be bothered about Vascular Surgery anyway. Have been in a bit of a 'cant be arsed' mood since Monday. I would rather spend some of the time working on more Learning Objectives rather than faffing around doing nothing productive I reckon.

So much for being an emotional roller-coaster. So much for the gung-ho enthusiasm that I maintained throughout Colorectal Surgery. So much for really enjoying the rotation. So much for earning a medal for not letting my guard down and shedding any tears for the whole week prior to Monday.

I guess I shouldn't really complain. I had purposely planned my Monday so that I was free and so that I could max out the time possibly spent with JH right until he left. And I was perfectly fine for most of it. Maybe it's because it is Wednesday night and just a week ago, we were eating my failed attempt at reinacting Kch's authentic Kolo Mee and reminiscing about the good old times for a full 4 hours or so, and I even ended with an optimistic "It's okay. I'll see you soon."

And now my couch is filled with a good 6 kg worth of clothes/shoes/laptop bag/laundry bag/hairdryer/glass (!)/and laptop manual guides that I had lugged back from Heathrow because I had predicted this massive excess in baggage weight, and I felt that it was the least I could do to prevent any panic or lack of better judgement on the spot.

Maybe because the past few years have flown by just like that, and it had never occurred properly to me that one day the reality of Farewell would appear right ahead.

Maybe because you will always be one of the only people in this world whom I can click so well with and who can make me laugh genuinely from the heart.

And you will always be irreplaceable in my heart. BFF, Greatest Friend Ever. Buaya. HPY. Whatever.

Thank you for everything. For all the good times. For all the patience despite my thoughtless tantrums. For picking me up when I needed support the most. For helping me find myself again. For all the laughter and 'intellectual banter'. For just being there and being you.

And hopefully you will come back soon and we will meet again :)