Faultless, he was :)

"If my Djoker wins the Australian Open this year, I will buy you dinner at some fancy place," she said.

"Dream long long lah," her friend said.

And then Novak Djokovic went on to make me eat my own words. LITERALLY. Except, maybe, in my case and Lynn's we will be eating at some fancy schmancy place this coming Saturday.

I happily oblige, in any case. Because this is a true poignant moment of nostalgia where I sat on my couch watching him seize Melbourne Park with his charm and lift the Norman Brookes Challenge Cup to be crowned Aus Open Champion 2008.

Back then, it was Tsonga who had startled the crowd by knocking King Rafa out to end up against Djokovic in the Finals. Back then, everyone was going on about how a weak Final it was to have two 'newbies' challenging each other for the title.

This year, the Djoker did it again :) And at a much fairer level at that....playing against his childhood friend, former doubles partner and World No. 5 Andy Murray - the UK's Darling and No.1 player, yet to win a Grand Slam of his own. (Ahem *withgoodreason* Ahem)

Unlike 3 years ago, I was unable to watch him reenact his amazing talent every step of the way, thanks to something called Time Difference and Hospital Placements and Neurology Clinics. Pfffttt. Either way, I was able to catch Djoker claim the first game in the first set within 10 minutes, and his last shot against Murray, i.e. Match Point.

Murray really didn't stand a chance. I do feel for him, simply because this country puts too much pressure on their sportsmen to WIN WIN WINNNN something, and they really need to learn how to lay off a little. He will achieve a Grand Slam title some day, just give him a break!

For now, everyone should applaud Novak Djokovic's triumph, because he definitely trumped everyone's ass this time around in Melbourne Park. A better serve, many more aces, an AMAZING mental state of mind (surprisingly) and no heat stroke.

This is why I have switched to becoming a major tennis fan rather than follow on with Liverpool's dismal performance in the EPL.

Because when Nole has it, he charges down everyone in sight to WIN it.

Who knows what will happen in the Roland Garros, or at the Championships in Wimbledon this year. He will probably never be the cool as cucumber Roger Federer in terms of class, nor as resilient as the Spanish warrior Rafa Nadal.

But for now, let me revel in my happiness:

No More Djoking around!!

Blessed...

.....because I have pretty damn awesome friends!

From my absolute FAVOURITE cake (Chocolate + Cherry) from my favourite baker in the entire world : YL Hoo, to the love and effort put into the gigantic photo frame of our amazing friendship by Pei Hua, to the Oscar-worthy acting efforts of LX Wong to pull of the one surprise in my many birthdays of the past that went without a hitch, to the many antics with my Neneks in my kitchen.

This birthday was perhaps alot more different than the last. Simply because this year, I had been whining and whining for days prior to it about having to trek to the middle of nowhere (Tunbridge Wells) to see 'dying ppl', i.e. Hospice Visit. Ironically, it did not turn out so bad, and my partner dropped me off at the end which made trekking back a lot more bearable.

I was also alot calmer this year, mentally, and I had come to realise that the best things come in small packages

(Translation: I am not for massive parties with about 10 other people whom you don't particularly know very well. It is heart-warming enough having a simple gathering with friends that DO matter).

Perhaps it's true what they say, A Year Older, A Year Wiser.

At least I hope that is the case for me :)

A Whole New Level

I have been getting more and more stoked about Grand Slams since the Roland Garros last year, and I have been fuelling my own 'addiction', so to say, even though I wish I could be a tenth as excited about Neurology and Medicine as I am about the on-goings in Melbourne Park.

A friend commented on how huge a fan of tennis LX and I appeared to be when, the moment we met each other on Monday, began talking about Henin's game, Djoker easily brushing his opponent aside and Roger's smooth sail through to Round 2.

Even more so, when I looked back at this, and fondly remembered that late afternoon I was seated in front of the TV back home and could follow my Djoker all the way to victory.

Now the time difference is so awkward, I can't even watch anything except Highlights. Bleh.

And as much as I say that my tennis life is now 'complete', and I don't really need to go to anymore Grand Slams, I am positively itching to be at Melbourne Park right now, and I remember all the nostalgia from Centre Court last year when I was drunk on anxiety, excitement, frantically checking Djoker's score on the scoreboard from Court No.1 and the whole atmosphere of just BEING in this famed place that I had seen so many times on TV.

Of course, a new season means new outfits!! And Maria Sharapova doesn't fail to disappoint yet again in this stunner of an outfit. Not to mention the immaculate colour coordination!!! I am no tennis fashionista, to be fair, and I don't even play the game properly, but Nike never fails to disappoint :)

On another note, I really REALLYYY wish I could have been there to watch Federer play against Gilles Simon. Argh! Such an exciting Round 2 match, at that. And I won't even be able to watch it on Live Streaming.

Ballet Shoes

When I was a little girl, I had great dreams of becoming a Prima Ballerina. I would pore over ballet books, read about any fictional ballet dancers in novels and imagine myself gliding across the stage one day in those pointe shoes and a white flowing tutu.

I would try and convince myself that I was poised, and graceful, and possibly had the ability to execute those long, flowing lines that I was so in awe of. I would try and make sure I sat up properly, back straight, and tried hard in ballet class to impress.

Unfortunately all that did not last very long. I discovered ballet was an art that appeared a lot more difficult than in had in my mind, and I had no patience nor the talent to become a shadow of a ballerina.

I grew up and I became more and more of a clumsy tomboy each year, with no etiquette or grace whatsoever. I slouched, I hunched, I suddenly found myself more immersed in the Hip Hop culture, forgetting my much enriched initial knowledge of Coppelia and Odette in Swan Lake and The Nutcracker Ballet....and most of all: my childhood dream to dance Giselle.

The 9-year-old me never realised how dark and twisty Giselle was back then. All I was interested in was the costume that the lead ballerina wore.

More than a decade later, I am soon achieving my Giselle dream - not to dance the role but to watch the Royal Ballet Company's interpretation of this romantic ballet.

Perhaps a part of my 9-year-old self had predicted that I would become fairly dark and twisty with my dapple with guys, all these years on. Lol.

But no, just so you know, I am not enough of a Drama Queen to kill myself over men who have deceived me. And similary I would never haunt them in that way. I am nice like that, you see :)

Ortho UGHHHH

Sometimes I feel like I started off this journey with an entirely sure goal of the level of success I wanted to achieve and the kind of Doctor I would want to turn out to be.

Somewhere along this road, I realised it is one thing to have dreams, and another thing to be able to achieve them.

I remember a time in 2nd year when I would be nailing all the Musculoskeletal stuff and scoring near perfect marks in my Clinical Examinations in the OSCE's. Yesterday, in Orthopaedic Clinic, I realised I had never felt more incompetent in my life. So much so that I was sure the SpR was mentally killing me, or himself, for having had to bear with such a lousy student for the entire morning.

But I was glad I made myself go to that Clinic, in spite of my huge distaste for Orthopaedics, and even though I had already been done on Wednesday with everything. You gotta love what you hate eh?

Might even make myself go to the Orthopaedic Conference in a couple of weeks. We'll see.

Buck Up, Shing. You're spiralling to depths that you don't even realise yourself. And now you don't have SAD to blame it for.

The Simple Things

Although this time around, my trip back to Londres did not involve as bad a dip in mood as over summer, nothing here could have replaced the times I had back home, short as they were.

People ask why I keep going back during the holidays. Firstly, to see my family...and more importantly this time, my brother whose holidays and mine don't coincide very often. Secondly, because no Kch holiday experience has failed to deliver yet throughout these years.

So by the time Saturday swung around and reality sunk in that I was back in this rainy, windy, chilly city, I was feeling a little peaky, as always although not so much the bad SAD I had before the break.

And then you made me smile again :)

The excitement I professed over Gtalk and over BBM was genuine, nonetheless. And when I woke up this morning to another message that was so you, I realised that this was the one time in a very long time that I had woken up with a smile on my face.

As much as so many other things have gone wrong, as much as we might lament about what 'might have been', I am thankful as much that this strange, special bond of a friendship we share might just about be one of the few things that I have done right in this lifetime.

Ahhh Zhin. All the way from the topic of High School Crushes to being the one who never failed to lend me a virtual shoulder to cry on each time my heart was broken. And to think the only time we ever met up properly was almost 4 years ago.

Note to self: I need to get my arse over to Melb some time soon.

Lady Lovely Locks

Unfortunate to say, I hardly could remember a time when my hair was NOT dyed and JUST black at that. I started dyeing my hair the moment I was 17 and liberated from the clenches of High School rules, and I have never turned back since.

2007-2008: From Brown with Red Highlights to a lighter Brown.

HOWEVER, there was a stint I had in 2009 - 2010 where I recoloured my hair to the darkest shade I could remember EVER, and left it untouched for a whole year and more.

That is pretty much my natural hair colour - which really isn't COMPLETELY black anyway.

Fast forward almost 6 months later, and my hair remained untouched.

At Wimbledon here, in June 2010.

Unfortunately, the resolution to keep my hair in its black, uncoloured state did not last very long. I voiced the idea to my mum about letting the rest of my hair grow out and discontinue the routine of retouching and dyeing, only to have her scoff aloud and veto the idea completely. Absurd, she protested. Completely not me.

Yes, now you see where I get my addiction to hair dyeing from. Fuelled from my very own mother, nonetheless.

So in Sept 2010 I went back to my 'Natural' state again:

And back in Kch over the X'mas Hols, I just HAD to dye my hair again. Involuntary, okay. It was growing out. Unfortunately, all I could do was tell my hairdresser that I wanted a darker colour, expecting him to show me an array of choices, but he went ahead and said he would deal with it. So I ended up not going any much darker, but possibly even lighter!

2011

But not to fret, I guess at the end of the day, coloured hair was ALWAYS me . As much as hpy always protested that he did not like it.

Ahhh.....when I look in the mirror, I see familiarity again!! :)