Not My Style

I picked up a new phrase over the winter break at home, and influenced Dasiy Hoo into using it during one of our many conversations recently.

"It's not my style."

Since then this phrase has cropped up countless times in my conversations with numerous individuals, mainly, of course, about fashion and the way I dress. And at times, about various other subjects which were breached as well.

Last year when I picked up a beige leather jacket, which I spent ages standing in front of the mirror with a salesgirl by my side offering a zillion and one tips, trying to decide which colour and style suited me best, I was offered the following:

"Yes, you are very girly, aren't you?"

To which I replied, "Yeah. I'm not really into the biker chick look."

Today, while picking up my bow messenger, I decided that 'very girly' wasn't entirely my style either. I was definitely not girly enough to pull off a lavender pink bag, despite agreeing with Daphne a while ago that that colour was indeed oh-so-pretty. I ended up going for a pale bluish-grey tone, to which I thought definitely suited me better.

I am definitely into colours. I love colour blocks and jazzing up an outfit with bits of colour or accessories, but there is just a huge difference between liking pink as a colour and actually wearing a pink bag. Later, I tried defining with Hanna the exact parameters of my sense of style, and could only come up with a couple of negatives. Definitely not low-key. Definitely not understated. Definitely not biker chick. Definitely not cutesy teeny-bopper. Definitely not British-rock-model-KateMoss-esque. Definitely not dowdy.

All I can say is that I like structured stuff. I am versatile (well, to a certain extent). And as much as I know my sense of style is never Vogue-worthy or always perfect, I like it because it makes me comfortable in my own skin.

There are hardly that many items of clothing that one can spot in a store or on a mannequin and exclaim that that is 'soooo Shing'. Simply because there are certain styles that I have a weak spot for (This would be where Daisy Hoo goes: ahempuffedsleevesahem) but it is also a well-known fact that I hardly ever stick to the same style ALL the time. I'm always up for modifying new trends to suit my own style, and not just go with the typical British High Street Fashion TopshopMissSelfridgeEverythingElse Flow.

As much as I try to sound like I am some contributor for a High Fashion magazine, I can hardly deny that my sixth sense of fashion is going rapidly down the drain.

How can it not be when I wake up bleary-eyed and grab the first thing I see, spending most of my days in slacks, shirts and cardigans? Plus, my most recent encounter with Norovirus was pleasant as hell indeed, and sure did contribute even more to my unplanned agenda of shedding more weight. Something that has been happening ever since I got here. Ah well, what can you say? The grass is always greener on the other side. A couple of years ago, I had to have JH lie through his teeth to tell me I was 'oh-so-thin' because I was determined to lose weight on my water diet. Now, I wonder everyday how it is that I try to eat more junk but the opposite happens.

That's what always happens, people. Life.

Happy Birthday, Superstar

Because this turned out to be one of the better birthdays I've had so far, out of my expectations.... thanks to all my BFF's :)

And because all this could not have been possible if I didn't have a superstar BFF like you.

Highlight of The Week :)

The Liangster on BBM :)

I swear this is the best thing that has happened to me all week. Nobody can put a smile on my face like you do. Thank God for BB Messenger and the new Blackberry Bold 9700.

BFF's indeed ;)

XX

Memoirs II

I once blogged about the power of the mind and the incredible, almost tangible picture that one can relive by fusing the mere memory of something with pictures and words.

Then I realised I had forgotten one major element in the recreation of this 'picture'.

Music.

There are a great many songs on my iTunes playlists that can transport me back to a certain scene and recreate that very picture right before my eyes, larger than life. And not just those labelled 'Our Song' or 'The Song That Reminds Me Of You' but random snippets of music where I can actually see, remember....and feel.

I revealed to a friend recently that BoyzIIMen's 'Four Seasons of Loneliness' will always remain one of my all time favourites. Simply because it has travelled with me through 5 years of my life and watched a great love turn into horrendously ugly drama and then settle back into an unbreakable bond of friendship.

This is the song that saw me through the days of 'Alyssa's Songs' on our iPods, the days of DJ-ing, of chatting in the dead of night till the sun rose, and more recently, of you being the selfless friend you were and comforting me in the most ironic of situations when I needed you most. And so it is that when I listen now... instead of the choked-back feelings and pent-up emotions that could not be expressed....I listen with an open heart, and smile back on the good, colourful moments of it all.

Then again, there are a great many things that can evoke the strangest and most irrational of emotions in one's mind, overruling the universal fact of mind over body. Because it is only human for your heart to react completely differently from the way you plan it to.

For a day or two, it was the blatant thought of having only yourself to rely on that struck in a place where the wound couldn't be seen. The emptiness of that gloved hand in the cold December rain. The purple umbrella and the swirl of events that came to play prior and latter to that. All these reignited this feeling of choking-back a zillion emotions, of choking back bile, and of that sheer emptiness somewhere within.

For a good 3 days, I avoided listening to 'Superhuman' on my player. The story of how I got to know of this song, how I came to love it, how we listened to it on repeat - this was a long story that I would easily have let to brew in the past. But age and experience have taught me to bottle up my thoughts and sweep them under a rug, and to not talk about them - or rather, to choose not to talk about them.

And so I decided point blank that there is a time to cease all silly obsessions. At the end of the day, when I have decided enough is enough and I will only shed this many tears for this man of the moment, because this is all it is worth, I realise it is easier achieved than I had deemed possible.

So I listened to the song for a good many times, determined to halt this phobia of songs which had the ability of planting an array of moments I had once deemed 'happy' before my very eyes. Happy moments which were no longer to be, and never to be.

And when I felt nothing, I took that step further. Stripping off all my sheets and finally changing them because I knew.....I knew that that wafting scent of Hugo Boss in my room was a mere phantom smell, and that there is a time to stop recreating memory as such in your head. Especially when these memories have been induced by a broken heart.

When the cloud has lifted and you see, you SEE clearly. There is a time to do what is right rather than what you would preferrably wallow in. What is meant to be or not meant to be. I may be a skeptic for now and will forever be guarded against further matters of the heart, but maybe....maybe one day I will believe again, and hopefully along the way I will cease to meet people who continuously obliterate all that is left of those few shreds of optimism within.

This Feeling

"When I was a little girl, my life was just music that was getting louder and louder.

Everything moved me.

A dog following a stranger. That made me feel so much.

A calendar showing the wrong month. I could have cried over it.

Where the smoke from a chimney ended. How an overturned bottle rested on the edge of the table."

- Extremely Loud and Incredibly Close

I spent my latter years after that trying to feel less.

Everyday was about feeling less. Everyday I feel less.

Is it growing old? Or is it something worse?

They say you can't protect yourself from sadness without protecting yourself from happiness.

Maybe it's time to let that go.

Leaving

Last night I turned down going to dinner because I was knackered from a gung-ho afternoon of teaching at the hospital and I basically had not finished my ACS Presentation for my consultant tomorrow yet. And also because I had been misinformed or misunderstood somehow and thought that K was leaving on Saturday instead.

A part of me was horrified that he was leaving today instead, and that I would probably never see him again. Then again, a part of me silently agreed that I had done the right thing and had not gone to see him 'one last time' before he left.

I called K last night to talk to him before he left and for some reason, my voice broke off halfway and wavered dangerously in the midst of my sentence.

"I can't believe you're leaving for good. It seems like just yesterday that I met you and we became such good friends."

Sporadic though I must admit our conversations have been over the past 2 years or so, it is impossible to deny that he was always there for me, through my darkest moments, through tears and laughter, and through the quotes he left me for encouragement that sometimes did not make sense at all!

So many people enter and leave your life.

Hundreds of thousands of people.

You have to keep your door open so they can come in.

But it also means you have to let them go.

So much for never being an emo wreck when it comes to friends.

Thank you for everything all these years xxx

Walking On

Just came back from a Liverpool vs Man Utd match, which ended in a victorious 2-0! WOOTS! I had gone with little hope of a win, saying that I would be happy with a 0-0 draw, as Liverpool's run had been horrendous before this with 4 defeats in a row. But who knew, Man Utd was shyte today.

Like JH said, I should definitely watch more football from now onwards and give Liverpool all my good luck vibes.

Saw 'The Imaginarium of Dr Parnassus' the night before with Hanna and Hugo, of which I did not understand one bit at all. I had to run off halfway for a booze session in honour of my Daisy Hoo's birthday, which did not end well at all because I was completely wasted by the end of it. The worst I've ever experienced so far. Thank God for a friend like her who took care of me and patiently attended to my needs although I was a total mess. No more booze for a while now.

And the booze has also made me lose my voice, almost completely. How am I supposed to clerk patients this week now?

ARGH.

Busy Bee

I thought I would be home early on Monday since my consultant didn't have clinic at Epsom this week. Teaching for that day was cancelled right after my radiology tutorial ended at 9.45 am. Technically, I had the entire freaking day free. Instead, I decided to go to the ECG room, and after finding that it was being taken over by a bunch of surgery med students (pffttt go to your theatres or go somewhere else!), I suggested we go over to A&E to irritate some of the poor doctors there. I ended up on the service of this reallyyy nice SpR around - who just reminds me of my dad btw, although I lent him my pen to fill in a form and he ran off with it and I could not locate him after! ARGH! - and V was taught some amazing ECG stuff by this SHO.

Finally spotted a pneumothorax and collapsed lung on the CXR, attempted ABGs but it was too difficult so the SpR took over. And ABGs totally are not easy by the way, because today during rounds, our team's SpR tried on this old lady and after two people jabbed her like ten times, everyone finally gave up. Then assessed a priority chest pain patient with another Reg, and then was asked to run through the ECG (ARGH!! Well, at least I got better after ystdy), and after that another CXR. Managed to put some of my well-acquired knowledge from my IJN Elective days to good use. Then the Reg shooed me back home saying that it was 5 pm and she thought I had been there long enough. And I was! From around before 11 am till 5 pm, and missing lunch in between too!

V was exclaiming later how she thought A&E was really cool, and this reminded me of how a couple of my friends have been professing their interests in Emergency Medicine. Compared to yesterday's fast-paced experience, ward rounds this morning was realllyy snoozy with the team's new Reg and the F1. After that I tried to clerk a patient who obviously had a very large multinodular goitre but to no avail because she was completely confused and could not even answer the first 5 questions of the MMSE. V and I just trawled through the patient notes after that and looked up a couple of the follow-up investigations on Clinical Manager.

Then I had clinic in the afternoon with my regular consultant. Rheum clinic, is as V puts it, 'mindblowingly boring', but I love Dr D heaps. He is like a kindly father and so funny at times too, although he may be a man of few words and little constructive criticism. I still have a soft spot for Rheum, however, because it is a running problem in my family.

Now I need to do my incredibly boring essay. Argh. Such a buzzkill after two such lovely, busy days.

Transitioning Through Time? Or Not

While talking to some friends last night, I realised, at that moment, how much I had changed as a person, along with my interests and habits.

I remember a time in the not-so-distant past when I loved Classical music. I loved going for concerts and worshipped anyone who played the violin well. When I later took up the flute and was made a part of the orchestra for the opening ceremony of a certain church, it was the best thing that had happened to me, indefinitely.

As of now, I have not touched my flute for a good 4 years. My piano reminds shut beneath its dusty lid in Malaysia. And when F brought up the idea that I could get a keyboard and use headphones to play here, I bit my tongue to prevent myself from saying that I had completely lost interest in everything music-related.

I remember a time when I knew absolutely everything and anything about football. The EPL, The Bundesliga, The Serie A, The World Cup.....name the tournament and the team, and chances are that I could break down a short analysis of tactics and styles for you in great depth. Now, it has been months since I have watched an EPL match on TV. Name me any other EPL team besides Liverpool and I would not be able to provide you with much input at all, apart from *gasp!* 'How CAN you say Liverpool sucks?!'

Then there was the time when I loved writing. I wrote short stories, proses, poems, articles about my opinions on life, and later blog entries....and everything seemed to flow naturally from the tips of my fingers on to the keyboard. I loved reading, and I loved writing, so much so that it was almost a daily thing to do without further thought to it.

Now, when I think of writing, my mind is blank from inspiration. I feel nothing, I know nothing, I care about nothing besides the mound of work piling up around me and making and organising my notes into files.

A few years ago, I had a love-hate relationship with David Gray's song 'This Year's Love', simply because I had started off hating the song, only to move on to a time when listening the song could put a wistful look on my face.

A couple of days ago, I came across the MV on someone's blog and decided to watch it, just because I had never seen it before. A good minute or so into the song, I decided to close the window because I was bored out of my wits.

I am a person of many extremes. And after all of the above, I realise how fickle I can be when it comes to my obsessions or flinging off stuff into my 'Been there, done that' box. Sometimes I wonder how it is that I spent years of my life labelling this guy as 'fickle' or 'absolutely having no idea about what he wants' when I am about three levels worse than him myself.

Again, another case of the pot calling the kettle black.

Bits and Bops

It's been one long week indeed.

When Monday swings around the corner, the long week just looms ahead and you feel tired just thinking about it. Then Wednesday comes and suddenly everything fast forwards and it's TGIF! And then once again, the weekend disappears all too soon.

I haven't blogged in ages, with the excuse that I am busy and caught up with too many things, and my days are so filled with tasks to do that I don't even have time to open up Blogger and update my blog. But truth be told, I haven't mugged properly in ages, and as for finishing up tasks, I am still stuck halfway through my mind-blowingly boring essay on Health Inequalities which I had vowed to finish last week. Pfft.

I guess that in short, nothing very much has happened at all since the last time I updated. Well, apart from the fact that about a week and a half ago I was bestowed with an incredible gift of seemingly idiopathic abdominal cramps / epigastric pain / bloating, which I had mistaken for menstrual cramps in the beginning, but then proceeded to drag on for 10 days and made life extremely inconvenient for me!

Thank God that now with Proton Pump Inhibitors the bad gastritis has gone, and was not something more than that.

Was on-call last Thursday, from the day till 10 pm, amidst grand rounds, presentations, lectures and so on, which turned out to be one incredible experience. Although I had been warned that the consultant on-call was one tough cookie at first and was a no-nonsense kind of woman, she turned out to be an incredible teacher and I actually found her sarcasm extremely funny at some points. In short, it was one of the first times I felt like I was doing real medicine throughout the past few years.

Having said that, it is only the first week, and I've got to keep up the spirits for the next 6 weeks or so. So hopefully we'll fare well in that department.

On another note, I have been pondering about the definition of 'maturity' these past few days. How do you consider a person 'mature'? It is easy for me to scoff off everyone as 'childish' or 'immature' or 'clueless about life', and yet how much more seasoned am I to judge people as such? I have not gone through a whole life of World War II with battles scars as proof to show that I have slaved through life to be considered worldly enough. And here we are in a profession that demands mental strength, maturity and a level-headed attitude amongst all other things. Many times I have found myself to be increasingly childish amongst my recent dapples with Junior Doctors, Post Grad students and so on, and here I am writing off others as the same. Talk about the pot calling the kettle black.

Definitely food for thought, this one.

I like the busy schedule that is taking over my life, to be honest. I like having countless things to do and long hours away from home, and the ability to shut out everything and everyone around me and just focus on the main thing right in front of me, i.e. the patient, case notes, investigation results, and so on.

Although I must admit, I do miss shopping. Hur hur.

Abercrombie and Fitch

I must have the worst self control of any human being alive.

Ever since my mum got me my grey off-shoulder Abercrombie and Fitch sweater a few years ago, I've been actively wondering where there was another A&F store for me to raid (erm I mean visit and window shop).

I'd never actually been accustomed to Abercrombie and Fitch's style before this, and I had never known that there was a retail outlet in London (yes I know. Blasphemy!) until I saw people carrying shopping bags walking down Regent Street two years ago. After that, it always occurred to me to go home and google map its location, but somehow I never got around to doing it!

So today, with Noemi - who also vehemently expressed an interest to visit the A&F store - we google mapped its location right on the spot while strolling down Regent Street. Initial plan was to go to Picadilly Circus to watch a movie, mind you, but our legs saw us turning into the famed Savile Row and entering the A&F store, where my jaw proceeded to drop in awe thereafter.

The shop had the most amazing concept ever, with loud music booming through fabulous speakers all around and the best looking lot of salespeople I'd ever seen! We sifted through the massive outlet, and both floors, despite how difficult it was to navigate our way through the dim lights and the throngs of shoppers, and eventually found ourselves face-to-face with the signature A&F look this season: Checks.

I'd been lusting after a checkered button-down-shirt since the start of this season - possibly influenced by how good Zac Efron looks in them - and I'd even tried on a couple on the High Street while shopping with Daisy Hoo, but the instant my eyes fell on these plaid shirts in A&F, I knew I would end up walking out with one (if it fit, of course). I was lucky to locate an XS in the colour I wanted as soooo many of them were out of that size, and we left the store after many bouts of queuing, i.e. first, for me to try on my shirts, and then the longest one of all - to pay!!

It helped of course, that there was soooooo much eye-candy in that store! I had more fun ogling some of the guys most of the time than properly contemplating whether I should spend that much on a plaid shirt. I pretty much decided in 2 minutes that I would buy it and spent the rest of the time trying not to swoon at the sight of the male models around.

As far as rip-off American brands in the UK are concerned, I'm pretty much sold. Noemi and I are making it a pact to visit the store again every time she comes to the city.

Yes, I know. I am that weak. Shoot me. Haha.

Hungry Eyes

A few headlines did well to shock me today.

The first being the news that Patrick Swayze had finally succumbed to the battle with pancreatic cancer. It seemed just a while ago that I had read about him being diagnosed with this terminal condition but the fact that he had managed to fight it for....almost a year (?) made me take off my imaginary hat to this guy.

Sometimes it amazes me that the amount of determination one individual has can be so different compared to another's. Or even how one person's outlook on life and it's many bends can be so positive compared to another person's glass half empty.

Last week, during GP, Wei and I had a fabulous time chatting to this lady who had been battling MS for a good 7 years, and at the end, even I was pondering if even she had more energy and a more optimistic take on life than I did.

I'm checking myself right now, making sure that I appreciate all that I have in life right now, the most obvious being my given opportunity to study medicine, and not get carried away with dossing around because heck, RCT lectures and comm skills can sometimes be oh-so-dreary.

Am listening to 'Hungry Eyes' off the Dirty Dancing OST because watching Youtube videos of Patrick Swayze in that movie made me feel sad, thinking of what a brilliant dancer he was.

And the second shitteous piece of news was that Fed-Ex lost the US Open title to Del Potro with what my friend described as 'horrendous playing'.

Sometimes time seems to fly past when you're not keeping track.

Manchester

I had been seriously considering hitting Selfridges or Harrods over the last Bank Holiday weekend to do some horrifying damage to my bank account, when Pei Hua brought up the idea of visiting Manchester. I pondered over the idea for a great many days until Yuan Lih got fed up and decided to make the choice for me of not going, but a sudden huge pang of missing Pei Hua and some rash decisions saw me chugging on the train to Manchester in the end.

Probably the best rash decision I have made EVER!

Manchester was heaps of fun....rain, wind and freezing weather aside. Kee Fong provided plenty of hysterical laughter opportunities throughout the entire trip (Thank You for your hospitality, my brother sent from heaven! Lol) and I had the most amazing time catching up with Pei Hua, with Kee Fong professing his amazement every now and then at how the two of us just couldn't stop talking. I had a good time talking to Daniel for one night as well, before he fled off to Preston the next day, and even managed to do some shopping (albeit very mild compared to the damage I might have done in London).

At San Carlo, which turned out to be a swanky Italian restaurant frequented by celebs, i.e mainly Man Utd footballers.

Rio Ferdinand, Ryan Giggs, Michael Owen, Paul Scholes.....on the wall. Too bad I didn't see Rio in real life.

I miss Pei Hua already!!!

Found a new drinking buddy in Kee Fong. Too bad we didn't have much time to drink more.

It wasn't half as pricey as a place like this would cost in London, although Voon kept insisting that I have become some atas queen =P

And even saw Scooby Doo on the street! Hahahah

Overall, I had the best weekend getaway in AGES! The money forked out for the train tickets couldn't have been more well spent, and I had the most cushy accomodation at Hotel KF (aka Kee Fong's posh apartment).

Will definitely visit the windy, rainy city again one day...this time to Old Trafford (to throw eggs at it...hahaha I kid, I kid).

I left Manchester with the heaviest heart. It's times like these when you realise there will always be those friends you've found along the way who are irreplaceable in your heart.

Thanks for one of the best times of my life, Pei Hua and Kee Fong! xxx

Why I Miss Momo Voon

C: Hoot hoot! Thought of you

S: Hahahaha you know what, now thanks to you owls remind me of myself too!

Cherie and I have this inside joke of hoot hoot owls being connected to me, for reasons which I cannot pinpoint now.

Definitely cracked me up to see this in my email inbox, sent from Melb when Mo was walking along some random street with her friend.

I had hoped the shop to be Alannah Hill or Sass & Bide - two of my favourite Australian labels (although I don't even own anything from them!), but unfortunately it was the very High Street (albeit trendy!) Sportsgirl.

Hahahah well, I do have a long-standing history with Sportsgirl. It was one of my favourite Australian brands during my numerous visits to Perth and the one visit to Melb all those years back!

Yes, there is definitely something about owls and I.

High School Musical

I recently had a very engaging 3-hour conversation with a High School friend, L (Zhin, for those better-informed individuals), about every little bit of nonsense you could possibly think of under the sun.

We spent a good part of the duration revisiting old times and the mutual people we could both think of, moving on to gossip-sharing (I prefer to call it 'keeping on par with current affairs') and then on to the subject of crushes.

I literally rolled my eyes, telling Zhin so, as I did it.

And he said: You might roll your eyes now, but I'm sure back then the mention of a particular name was enough to give you palpitations and make your knees go weak.

That....is probably pushing it a little too far. As far as High School crushes went, I never had much physical contact with any, lest went on any proper dates. Heck, I never even came close to actually turning that crush into a full-blown High School Boyfriend. The most I did was remark that this guy, or that guy, looked cute from afar, giggle profusely about it with Manda and the rest, and find strange thrills in the silliest little things.

Then again, what is a High School career without the crushes, huh?

The presence of these people lit up our lives that much more, back then.

Made Sejarah lessons seem that much less boring.

Made the long hours seem that much more bearable.

Since I was in the mood to saunter back down memory lane, I pulled out the autograph book I had owned in Form 5, flipped to Manda's page, and found myself frowning deeply at some of the stuff she had written. I had gone through so many other 'best friends' since those school days, that it made me wonder aloud which was that particular 'Best Friend' of mine she had been referring to at that time. It was good fun though, and I found myself laughing aloud numerous times throughout the whole experience.

I think so many of us have grown so much since our High School stints with crushes and romance, that when we look back, it can only be with a good laugh or good-natured humour. Truth be told, I no longer remember all the names of every crush I ever had on any guy in school, and even for those whom I actually did, I could hardly remember specific details and encounters in much depth at all.

But the conversation took a turn for the 'not-so-hilarious' exit when Zhin suddenly reciprocated my remark about a mutual friend's constant teasing by blatantly asking:

'So you haven't answered me. Did you or did you not have a thing for me in High School?'

'OMG you ARE shameless aren't you?'

'Is that a Yes or a No?'

'I'm rolling my eyes now! Whatever rocks your boat!!'

'What if I said I had a thing for you in High School? Would it change your perception of me?'

'No way!! Because it was ten thousand years ago, and like I said, just High School crap!'

'Gosh you are quite the cynic aren't you?'

Hahahah. It definitely brought out bountiful laughter on both ends, although at my expense. To me though, High School really seemed like a century ago, and whatever whims I humoured myself with back then were far from serious, in any sense.

I do maintain that at this age and day, I would not hesitate to show very obviously, my liking for a guy whom I probably thought I could stand a chance with, or even just say it outright. It still remains to me, though, that whatever remains unsaid remains untrue. So I would only really like you, if I said I liked you. And vice versa. No mind games or anything of the likes now ;)

Here's to Zhin, who never fails to provide me with much entertainment, and who ultimately remains one of my most baffling (and sometimes exasperating) friendships to date.

Here's to Manda as well, who helped carve out the majority of my High School memories, and who remains one of the greatest friends of all time.

Ah, those silly antics that make up the most hilarious moments.

The One With Too Many Clothes

I know I must have said this about three million times.....each time I attempt to pack or attempt to clean up my closet, I am taken aback by the SHEER AMOUNT of clothes I own, and I give up halfway. Just as I am doing now. Halfway putting my clothes into my luggage (because Momo Voon called me 'siao' for not having started packing yet), I have not even reached the dresses section, touched my accessories or belts, forgotten about three pairs of jeans, and have only put in two measly pairs of shoes, and I'm already feeling defeated just looking at my bag.

SIGH.

I guess there is such a thing as having 'too many clothes for my own good' after all. Woogui begged to differ, intoning if there was such a thing as ever having too many clothes, but I think I am a gone case. I probably need some therapy or need to take drastic measures in clearing out my wardrobe to give to charity, because every time I find myself in this situation I swear never to shop again, but what d'ya know....the next freaking day, I have just bought myself a new dress.

I wonder what it would be like if I dressed in sack-like clothes all the time and wore the same monotonous combination of outfits day in and day out. Hmmm.

On another note, I just dug out a purple, flowered maxi dress I bought like a zillion years ago (okay it was 4 years), and had never gotten around to wearing, and was pleasantly surprised. Firstly because it actually looked pretty nice, although my mum frowned and pondered aloud as to how I was planning to walk around town in 'something like this' with straps criss-crossing all over the back.

And secondly, because Rachel Bilson and Nicole Richie have been strutting these outfits around town all summer, and I've been meaning to try on one.

Talk about saving money AND more wardrobe space. Hur.

The Possimpible

In one of the episodes of 'How I Met Your Mother', Barney came up with the idea of making up his own combination of words to make new ones. My interpretation of his word 'Possimpible' was simply....making the impossible possible.

As mentioned before, I have become a sceptic when it comes to sappy love stories and fairytale endings. I have willed myself to become a realist and to read things as they are on the surface, never anything between the lines. I do not believe in far-fetched possibilities and about building a whole life in your heads when the now remains the now, and the future is something still intangible in the distance.

But there is something about listening to the stories of the people around you and seeing the exact situation you had deemed impossible, blossom into something so real in front of you, that brings up that warm, fuzzy feeling inside.

It makes me smile to see that amidst all the backstabbing, bad-mouthing, superficial facades and so forth going on in this world, something as innocent as a foundation of love can overcome everything and remain standing till the end.

Don't get me wrong, this doesn't change the fact that I am still very much a realist and a cynic when it comes to things like these.

But maybe....maybe once in a blue moon, there is that rare thing out there called a connection that can never be broken, come what may.

Self Esteem vs Good Grooming

After watching 'Penelope' on HBO a couple of nights ago (starring Christina Ricci and James McAvoy), the thought that struck me after the credits rolled - apart from the fact that James McAvoy looked surprisingly good in 2006 with the thinner physique and shaggier hair - was how poorly we value self esteem these days. I started evaluating myself and the people around me. How many of us actually loved ourselves for who we are, would change nothing about ourselves if given the chance, and were happy with things just as they were?

Inevitably, the grass is always greener on the other side. And I would never volunteer myself to be one of those who have a towering self esteem and a personality that is larger than life. But I have always maintained that one should never bother too much about the whisperings that go around behind our backs (or in our faces??).

We are all gossips, in one way or another. And even if one person had a squeaky clean slate that bore no tarnishes, so to speak, it would only be a matter of time before someone else dug up some dirty piece of news about him / her, or even better, makes something up and spreads it around like wildfire.

Sticks and stones can break my bones, but words can never hurt me.

Yay or nay?

Sidetracking from this a little, as this wasn't exactly my main focus of topic in this entry....like I said, I wouldn't say that I have the innate ability to make everyone gape in awe at my self confidence, nor make half the room turn their gazes towards me as I glide into a room. But I do not equate my interest in dressing up, and presenting myself in a poised manner, with a low self esteem and a desire to 'go with the flow'.

I strongly do not agree that putting on make up, brushing one's hair neatly so it looks presentable, putting on perfume, or dressing up nicely, are merely excuses to cover up a low self esteem. Self conscious, yes....maybe. But I would equate all of the above, not with a low self esteem, but with a good habit of making sure one is groomed to the best at all times.

Self Esteem and Good Grooming. Such a fine yet distinct line. It amazes me how people can actually confuse one with the other.

I find no qualms with my hobby of experimenting with makeup.

I offer no apologies for making sure my hair does not hang in greasy streaks when I go out.

Neither should I feel sorry for the fact that I dress well simply because I cannot stand women who make not attempt to watch their demeanour or personal hygiene when in public.

Of course, it is not all about the fashion and the labels that makes a person 'well-groomed' either. One Gucci bag alone cannot change who that person really is. We could venture on to another topic on that alone....that there is such a fine line between being regal AND being snobbish, but we'll go there some other time.

Truth be told, I haven't been venturing much out of my spaghetti straps, shorts / tights and flowy dresses all summer, but you'll have to step over my dead body before you catch me looking all grungy and dishevelled in public.

And that...is self esteem for you ;)

Taking it Home

Personally, I have never been a huge fan of Doctors. No offence. Even when I was younger and aspiring to become one, I had never made it a habit to shoot off to the GP's office at the smallest indication of a fever and a sorethroat. Not that I've had the worst of experiences with doctors when I was a kid. I wasn't particularly sickly or weak except for a bad bout of sinusitis and infections when I was 11-ish which actually went away with age (or which Barbara's dad managed to cure - who knows ;)).

But even now, being the medical student per se, I'm still one to opt for self-diagnosing rather than running off to see a Doctor. This is where I've come to realise, after reading a bunch of med articles online, that I have become one of those medical students who are on the complacent end of the globe. To put it simply, I think that freaking out over 'something small' is overreacting.

This becomes more evident when we take our medical knowledge home. Ethically, a ton of benefits and dilemmas come about from diagnosing your friends and family members. Maybe because we deal with a different set of emotions when it comes to someone who hits close to the heart. We either laugh it off with a joke or two and try to write it off as nothing serious, for some, because we would rather live in denial than deal with the fact that there might be something actually wrong.....or we overreact and put a ton of paranoid thoughts into everyone's heads simply because we want to be extremely cautious about the person we love, and want the best for him / her.

I think I have fallen into the former group most of the time. Having had a dose of practice recently, I have been sticking true to my guns and wiling myself to behave rationally. Fairly. Logically as in any other situation with any other patient. I am generally not a worrywart, as I have told Niff, but I do tend to enjoy being in denial a fair bit of the time. I probably do make a very bad example of a patient. Gasp. Hahaha.

I could probably write up a 'Notes on Denial'. About how I would rather write off every health glitch that occurs in my family and with my best friends as a non-pathological thing, and recommend 'Mind Over Body', because the thought of them being ill, or even worse, losing him / her, is overwhelming as it is. I'm sure that alot of the time, my closest friends can vouch for how I would rather choose the easy way of denial out rather than dealing with reality. Like it was with hpy. Like it was with alot of other things in life that actually mattered to me.

But at the end of the day, medicine is medicine. We are trained to consider ethical issues and the potential benefits or detrimental effects of our actions before we actually recommend diagnoses, management options and the whole lot.

Whoever said being a medical student was dull? Like Leslie mentioned the other day, a couple of years into your field and you start analysing things a completely different way then others. Rewarding, it is. At the moment though, for myself, I'd still go with my self-diagnosing and self-medicating ;)

Summer Stylings

With the horrible heat that I was suffering from in Kch the past few days, it only seemed appropriate to browse through the fashion sites I read and check out the must-haves of this season.

I skipped the swimsuit section because I have no interest in bikinis nor have a set of washboard abs for it, but one thing I couldn't help noticing on many an entry was the hype about city shorts / chic shorts / tailored shorts... whichever suits your taste.

I am a HUGE fan of city shorts - in case anyone hasn't noticed. I love the versatility of the few pairs I own, be it dressing them down for a (hot and humid) day out around the city or glamming them up with accessories and heels for a more dressy occasion. There's really nothing a pair of stilettos and a chunky cuff can't do ;)

One of the celebs whom I've seen pull this style off immaculately is Lauren Conrad. Some people might argue if she can even be considered a celeb. Haha. Well, I have watched a couple of episodes of 'The Hills' on MTV (guilty as charged) but I have yet to find something LC wears that I do not agree with. She experiments with all looks, and I love the classiness of her outfits with that little bit of funk so it doesn't look TOO dreary at all times.

Another of Lauren's signature looks is the subtle way she wears a braid, which to me is the most flattering way of pulling off a braid by far.....which brings me around to the topic of another increasingly popular summer look: The Braid.

I would definitely go with the way Lauren does hers: by braiding a small portion of the fringe and pulling it back with a barette or a clip. If you have bangs, you can always improvise with braiding one of the choppier / shorter layers of your hair. No worries about the choppier bits of your hair sticking out, you can always get rid of them with some pins in place.

I've realised that the older I grow, the less inclined I have become towards strappy or strapless stuff that show a little too much skin for anyone's comfort, necklines that just ask for trouble or micro mini skirts that just make it inconvenient for sitting, walking and well basically everything. Maybe this is part of growing up and becoming a mature adult, who knows. Maybe it's just that my body is becoming less athletic, hence less feasible to show off (gasp!!! hell no!! hahaha), maybe I'm just becoming more adventurous and more willing to experiment with different looks.

As much as I am interested in trends, however, I'm definitely not one to go for the Boho look, but sometimes a little touch of something interesting can add that fine line between looking classy and poised AND looking just old and boring (because sometimes it CAN be very fine indeed). Let's face it, nobody wants to look too dowdy TOO soon, not especially when they're just in their twenties, hey? ;)