Indomitable

When I was younger, I had always prided myself on my steadfastness and my dead resolution to achieve whatever I wanted.

I had a whiteboard and marker where I wrote down potential marks to aim for before every examination in school. And then I would make sure that I topped them all without fail.

This week, I have felt my energy faltering as every single day goes by. It is a dilemma really, between wanting the weekend to come quickly and wishing that it would not do so because I am running out of time to complete my Work Based Assessments. It seems strange that the smallest things can set me off, and today I just reached my maximal threshold. I am dead tired, mentally, from the amount of information I have yet to ingest in this Paediatrics attachment, and how my mind cannot seem to flip easily from dealing with as normal a condition as a respiratory infection in an adult, to dealing with one in a kid.

It is one thing to just continuously say that little children are not my thing, and I would still prefer to manage adults as my patients rather than kids, but at this point I don't think I have a choice of sub-specialising as a student, and I hate it when I underperform by my own standards - although I should have probably become used to that by now being the most mediocre medical student amidst a sea of brilliant others.

But it is just not as easy anymore to excel in my medicine as to achieve 100% in that Math exam.

To be fair, it might just be my sudden dip in mood and hormonal imbalance that is bringing about these swings in emotion.

But it just makes me wonder time and time again if I actually possess the willpower and strength to go as far as I have aspired to be through this lengthy journey of doctoring. Not even to be that world class surgeon in my dreams, but just to get med school over and done with and survive being a junior doctor.

I am not even sure that I have sufficiently transitioned from being a good student who had pretty decent grades in High School into a medical student with the enthusiasm and potential to learning doctoring skills, lest even a junior doctor who can complete the smooth transition between just taking a stab at the right diagnosis to making proper management plans.

It is strange how at most times, I feel that I am able to put on the strongest front just to make sure nothing can bother me in the slightest way, yet there are times like these that make me wonder aloud, when the last time was that I actually felt truly happy and satisfied with my life itself.

But the only way to go now is just to put one foot in front of the other and move forward. And hang on to this new ethos of mine:

'The world breaks everyone, and afterwards, some are strong at the broken places.'

- Ernest Hemingway

And just be....indomitable, as such. After all, whatever doesn't kill you....

Right?

Navigating Notting Hill

And what else in that trendy area of West London, if not the renown market along Portobello Road.

Growing up as a teenager, I had swooned over the 'Boy Meets Girl, and despite the most different of circumstances, Boy Falls in Love with Girl' concept depicted in the movie 'Notting Hill'. I had been smitten with Hugh Grant's easy charm and British accent, and had loved the chemistry he and Julia Roberts put across on screen.

I had daydreamed about this scene on the park bench, and remembered it till this day. Unfortunate (or perhaps fortunate??) to say, it has yet to happen.

And who could forget their eventful encounter in that famous Travel Bookshop along Portobello Road that had sparked the start of all this.

So it was customary that Lynn, YL and I decided to pay a visit to the Road that had made such a distinct mark on my girly daydreams.

No blue door (if you remember in the movie, the blue door on the house belonging to Hugh Grant), but who can resist this brilliant shade of a pink!!! Beats the blue door any day!

Definitely one of the trendier areas of London I had seen so far. The shops were quirky, and so were the little bits and bops that were on sale.

One of the BIGGEST crowds I had ever seen as well, and that is saying something because I live in London and crowds are almost as common to me as pigeons. In fact, I am so used to overcrowded streets that leave pigeons no where to stand on the ground. But the crowd at Portobello Road.....that was possibly in a league of its own.

Obviously we didn't hold out very long amongst the excited antique / trinket- shoppers.

So we ended up here:

A good old cup of Latte and amazing Gelato. Nothing like a caffeine dose and a sugar high to end the day :)

Dri Dri - the gelato bar we were at. Thanks to Rex's recommendation and a prior visit there last year with her.

It's true what they say. London has such personality, such character. Two streets on, and you can find something that surprises you altogether.

And now that Spring is around the corner, hopefully there will be more exploring of these cobbled pathways of Londontown to come.

LFW #2

London Fashion Weekend - 2011.

After this amazing stint last year, there was no thinking twice about going again this year!

No Hanna aka Shopping Buddy aka 'Best Friend who willingly gets dragged by me to watch everything / go everywhere' this year =(

But there was a suitably efficient replacement in the form of Amiri.

And compared to the 'Kiasu Shopping' experience last year, where we were scrambling for time because of juggling the fashion show and hunting for the gift bags alongside browsing the numerous stalls, this year we opted for focusing. Important matters first. Time management skills - excellent.

Hence, no fashion show and no gift bags this year. Just browsing and shopping. And we were done and home by 9.30 pm. Yes, efficient much.

Managed very good steals this year again, perhaps more so than last year's frantic grabbing of clothes for the sake of making the trip my money's worth.

1) My pair of polka-dotted flats from French Sole by Jane Winkworth. Ballerina flats at their best :) Amazing steal from Original Retail Price and sooooo comfortable they possibly rival my loafers. And that's saying something!

2) Yellow chiffon blouse from Twenty 8 Twelve by Sienna Miller. Pretty much addicted to chiffon tops from LFW. I got a similar beige one last year from LFW as well. Hahahah. Oh well, perhaps my style is not as versatile as I thought after all.

3) Green Waist Belt from an independent designer which I love to bits. Although I have to say that their sizes are possibly skewed towards the graph of skinny people. Hmmm. Then again, aren't most clothes these days? *sigh*

Okay, this definitely concludes my shopping for this term. I think my overflowing wardrobe is saying alot for itself, and I have officially exhausted every single trend I have thought of trying out this season.

*And this is the sound of me SEALING my wallet shut*

This Mind

I think I have a brilliant memory.....

And before you think I am utterly full of myself, let me finish my sentence.

I think I have a brilliant memory.......

For stupid, non-medicine-related things that happened up to 5 or 6 years ago.

Like how I remembered this one-time favourite quote of mine that Meredith recited in Season 2 of Greys Anatomy some time back.

"But Derek, I love you. In a really really big pretend to like your taste in music, let you eat the last piece of cheese cake, hold a radio over my head outside your window, unfortunate way that makes me hate you love you."

With some help from Google, I thought I would stick these exact words here so that one day, when my memory for even these things fail me, I will have this site to look back on and laugh at myself.

Because with my failing stamina and my increasingly tired eyes and my lack of ability to even retain any bit of Medical Info I have weakly attempted to digest (if any at all), I might as well take up a full time job as a professional TV Addict and kiss my vague dream of CT Surgery good-bye.

Tired, and possibly incoherent.

Ah well. Tomorrow is another day.

Neurologically Intact

Strange, how much we take these words for granted sometimes. How easy it is for us to forget the fact that the brain, with is complex anatomy and mechanisms, could literally make or break us.

The past week, the words 'Neurologically Intact' were passed back and forth so casually that it drove home again, how much I take my cognition and well-being for granted at times.

I had been truly pessimistic about the neurorehabilitation experience at the Wolfson before this week began, moaning about it to anyone who would listen about how this was a huge waste of my sleeping time and effort, and that anyone who knew me would know that I have little patience or empathy when it comes to the word 'rehabilitation'. Horrible as it might seem, the lengthy MDT Meetings in Oncology and Geriatrics had bored me to tears, and I was positive that this would do the same.

Strangely enough, it is the things you have had a mindset about hating, that turns around and never ceases to amaze you.

L and I were lucky to have a structured timetable which enabled us to cover all the disciplines involved in Rehabilitation Medicine, and apart from the session with the Psychologist that almost brought me into a stupor, everything managed to change my mind about associating a Multidisciplinary Environment with a couple of zzzzz's, to realising how INTER-disciplinary all the people there were at working towards those goals.

GOALS. Another word that was the bane of my life that week.

From the Long Term Goal of being able to walk out of the Wolfson, to Short Term Goals of being able to perform independent transfers (from wheelchair to bed, for example), I started piecing everything together and saw how important all these assessments and GOALS were in achieving a successful rehabilitation experience. I was genuinely amazed at the Goal Planning Meeting where each team (SALT, Physio, OT, Nursing) came together to give their input on the steps that had been carried out so far during the patient's rehabilitation process, the progress achieved so far, and any tweaks to the programme in the near future to achieve better efficacy.

I loved how the patient's Physical and Cognitive well-being was taken equally into account and fended for by different members of the team, i.e. Physio for Mobility and Transferring, and SLT/OT for ADL's and Cognitive Skills. And to top it off, my experience in Spasticity Clinic was equally rewarding, despite the patient taking more than an hour because his bones were so deformed and the anatomy so messed up that it had almost been impossible for the EMG to detect actively functioning muscle.

And most of all, I discovered once again that I DO have compassion after all. Deep inside. I had been wondering all year, if my enthusiasm had diminished along with my compassion for patients, not just in terms of managing a condition but also caring and empathising. But there could not have been a sadder story I had come across, than a 38-year-old who previously, was a Highly Functioning individual of the society, only to encounter a horrifying road race bicycle accident and be reduced to an individual in a wheelchair with Post Traumatic Amnesia, a lack of Cognitive Skills, apraxia and to top that off, 3 kids under the age of 4 years.

Or that 25-year-old who had ataxia, a huge lack of insight into his cognitive impairment, and no where to go after his discharge from the Wolfson because his mother refused to take him back, stating that he had changed horribly and she could not take any of this. Tragic as this was, it made me so grateful that my family would never do that to me in any case (TOUCH WOOD), and it made me incredibly sad to realise that someone could be reduced from having everything to literally being homeless in the blink of an eye.

I started off Neurology thinking that I would hate this rotation.

I don't. The people are weird, my Neuro foundation isn't brilliant, and even though my Neurorehabilitation experience has not turned out horrendous, I would still not list it as a first choice of career.

But as with all other things in life I possess at the moment, instead of dwelling on the past, the bad, the ugly and the grey areas, I will wake up every morning being thankful that I am neurologically intact.

I swear I'm not a Shopaholic

But there are these few essentials that I just can't help falling for over and over again:

Flowery Prints.

On dresses, on shirts, on scarves, on headbands. You name it!! So much so that lately, I have been getting people pointing out a flowery shirt and going "That's so you", while my mum refers to Massimo Dutti as 'your favourite shop with your favourite flowery shirts'.

This one is by my one of my favourite designers of all time: the great man Matthew Williamson himself, and wayyyy out of my budget. Last year, I made an impulse purchase on a flowery maxi dress and found the occasion (as well as courage) to strut it out on these London streets. This year I might be looking to adding another piece to my collection. We'll see how fat I have become by then. Long flowy dresses certainly wouldn't be flattering on a dumpling.

Tapered / Twill Trousers!!

I find myself contradicting my own words on multiple accounts. Many years ago, I declared that skinny jeans were stupid - now they are the only kind I wear. When harem pants and tapered trousers first came out, I turned my nose up at them declaring them horrifyingly weird. I still have not drawn up courage to try on harem pants, but tapered pants - I LOVEEEE. I wear them as daily hospital / work wear as much as I can, and so far they have not failed to disappoint. Aspiring to purchase this pair above in this fabulous jazzy colour to welcome the warmer weather :)

Polka Dots:

I love these Polka-Dotted shorts above. Of course, again, wayyy out of my league in terms of price, but I have developed an incredible infatuation for polka dots as of late. Not to mention that shorts are my absolute FAVOURITE piece of clothing in my wardrobe and I could collect a pair in every single colour if I could - but polka dotted ones are just in a league of their own.

Also, if I had a choice and my daily outfits allowed the shorts/tights combo, I would find a wear to make every single outfit work. Unfortunately, hospitals aren't so welcoming. Neither is the image I am supposed to portray as a future doctor, hence I have tried many times to curb my addiction to city shorts. But be assured I will now be on the hunt for a similar pair :)

Yes, I know. So much for saving money and 'No More Shopping'.

No one believes me anymore, do they? Sigh....

Nostalgia

How apt.

CNY is here to stay for 15 days. So far it has been exceeding my expectations greatly. Steamboats, Ballets, Fancy lunches, Musicals....More on that soon.

For the moment, I think I need to set a whole bunch of things straight. Starting with my priorities and my mental state of concentration, as well as my enthusiasm.

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!! :)

Bandwagon

Hopped on.

Alyssa Sim

For not quite those same reasons you'd think. But we'll see how far this goes.

Can't promise I'll be interesting, but I will try. Follow away!

My Novak-Djokovic-Experience

Super delayed post.

But definitely something that needs to be noted down to remember, nonetheless.

On the 24th of November, me, LX, Woogui and friends flocked to the O2 Centre to watch a potentially great showdown between two of the most talked-about names in the tennis world:

Rafa Nadal vs Novak Djokovic

(credits to Woogui and her amazing DSLR)

NB: On a side note, Rafa's outfit DEFINITELY deserves a mention of credit here. The colour combination is soooo amazing!

To be fair, it was just the first round of the Barclays ATP Finals 2010, but a showdown between these two was something I had been anticipating for a realllyyyy long time. Simply because I had already seen Federer and Murray play last Wimbledon, and by watching these two, my Tennis accomplishments were now complete, having watched the Top 4 in the world play within this year.

Okay, looking back retrospectively, I am able to put this in words calmly and enthuse about how lucky I was to be able to watch Djoker play the World No. 1 Nadal. But on the night before when I found out the Order of Play, I was absolutely bubbling with excitement. Elated, was probably an understatement in itself.

To FINALLY watch my Djoker play!!! (gasps)

Yes, he fails to bring his performance level THAT much higher every time and would be lucky to have a tenth the determination that Rafa possesses, but still.....perhaps I just like people who are Second Best. (Or tenth, in Liverpool's case)

After very entertaining and lengthy bus rides, we arrived at The O2 and managed to flock to the Fan Zone to check it out before the Doubles matches started:

We got our picture taken by a Professional Photographer with the Barclays ATP Finals Trophy that Roger 'FedEx' Federer got to hold in his arms as the Champion after. On the other side was the Premier League Championship Trophy and IRONICALLY, a picture of Torres, which I refused to take a picture with because obviously Liverpool will not be lifting it any time soon =P

There were a row of posters that the Top 8 (i.e. the participants of this Barclays ATP Finals) had artistically created. This is Djoker's. All of them were painted from tennis balls being hit (on target obviously) at a cut-out paper silhouette of themselves.

And this was the racquet he used. Not Babolat, unfortunately, but it is still Djoker's masterpiece after all ;)

Lynn and I then proceeded into the court, where we were greeted by a nice surprise! Djoker was practising with some unknown friend or tennis player.

After multiple attempts to take a picture of me with Djoker in the background, we came up with this:

Ahhhh, he is oh-so-gooodddd lookiinnnnnggg!! :) And brings much sentimental value as well, because it was him winning the Australian Open in '08 which sparked my exponentially increasing interest in Tennis.

Despite Rafa Nadal trashing my Djoker in straight sets, (Corneal Abrasion much? AHEM Inside Joke) my money was well-spent, the freezing journey into and out from the O2 Centre worth EVERY moment. No regrets, whatsoever. This year has been an awesome one in terms of my dapple with Professional Men's Tennis, and I am grateful for having all these incredible opportunities - being in this amazing city where all the happening stuff occurs - to be able to watch these guys play.

Also, much thanks and love to my Tennis buddies LX and Woogui for being so willing to come along with me every time I drag you to an event ;)

For the moment, I am glad that Rafa was FINALLY defeated by Federer, but this 24-year-old Spaniard definitely has a LONG way to go in terms of his career as yet.

Guess Who's In Town!

Looking dapper outside No. 10 Downing Street with Cameron (LUCKY GUY)

Here's another hint:

Did someone say Roger Federer? Rafa Nadal? Andy Murray? Novak Djokovic???

NB: This picture doesn't correlate with this year's contenders, just as a head's up. I couldn't seem to find the official poster for this year. Tsonga is out and Soderling is in.

What else, if not the Barclays ATP World Tour Finals.

And the boys are already in Londontown!

So fingers crossed, come this Wednesday, we will be breathing the same air in the O2 as Rafa or even.....dare I say.......Djoker. Either way, tennis is still tennis and I am on a mission to max out on my tennis tournaments here in London. Be it The Championships at Wimbledon, or this.

I'm smiling already :)

Seriously, I don't think I was ever this excited when it came to Liverpool.

Kidding!

One of Those Days

Today is one of those days. A little bit of the weather and not seeing the sun the entire day, plus a cauldron of unspoken emotions deep within and I guess, just the dire routine of going to Epsom - although ironically today was one of the days that I probably accomplished more.

Got my procedure signed off, got the general sign off from the attachment.

What else more?

Today should be a happy day.

But instead I'm feeling completely out of it.

Yes, I could go on about how Med School is tough, how my level of enthusiasm fluctuates from time to time, how I should have been pleased today that I successfully described and recognised an SVT from an ECG in A&E (woots Cardio), or how I actually got around to doing some hands-on stuff in theatre on Monday. But sometimes it's not really about Med School in general.

It's just me. And today is one of those days that I would like to just curl up in a ball and disappear.

Style Icon

For as long as I could remember, I have been plagued by the 'female curse' of being extremely wary of the 'Face of Shing' that I bring to the public eye.

As much as I have prided myself on being versatile in the past, sadly, thanks to very early starts and trying to turn over a new leaf by cutting down on the retail therapy, I have not had many chances to experiment with different looks as of late.

However, I have noticed a certain trend in my style throughout the years, although I have been labelling myself as versatile. Possibly not enough, to be honest. Most looks have been meandering around the theme of 'girly' and 'poised' and 'structured', and after Gossip Girl appeared on the scene: 'Blair Waldorf'.

A couple of years ago, I was obsessed with headbands.

For the sake of my wallet, I am glad these Headband Moguls: Sereni and Shentel had not existed back in 2006. The fact that they are Kuching girls, born and bred, prides me to say that despite its lack of shopping malls and big labels, no one writes of Kch girls as lacking style ;)

On another note, I am extremely tempted to get that piece above, except that their blog shop is based online, and it would be ridiculous to pay for shipping for something Malaysian-made all the way to London.

Fast forward a year or so later, when Gossip Girl was born, and the headband fever continued, being fuelled even more so, by this fictitious lady:

Blair Waldorf - whose style was the bane of my life for a good 4 years or so. I would say that she still is my 'Fashion Guru', but I have been trying to move away from monotone and add some more twists into my outfits.

Of course it was she who pioneered my venture into coloured tights, structured blouses, pencil skirts, the preppy look (although I might beg to differ on that, I remember being distinctly preppy even in my Concord days), and unfortunately high heels.

But then again, there is only so much one can pull off looking like a New York Upper East Side Socialite every day without getting bored of it eventually. And suffice to say, these London cobblestone pathways were NOT made for tottering stilettos.

Which is why I would love to be able to emulate this lovely lady as far as I can:

Olivia Palermo - all the faces of her in this picture sum up ALL possible looks one could pull off. Elegant, girly, structured, casual, quirky.

Of course one would need the equally amazing supermodel figure, as well as the numerous digits in her bank account. Seeing as I am about five times fatter, and NOT a New York socialite with a never-ending cash flow, I will resort to my High Street and infinitely less fashionable self for the time being.

Next purchase will be a sleeveless puffer jacket, in my attempt to revamp myself into a less girly 'face'.

And I am serious!