As It Happens....

....amidst 130mph serves, ground strokes that are pin-point precise, drop shots that make your jaw equally hang open in awe...and mind-boggling matches that persevere beneath the fabulous new technology of that Centre Court roof in spite of the temperamental English rain....it has taken much resilience on my part not to give in and visit the All England Lawn Tennis and Croquet Club multiple times because, hallelujah: I still have exams. Which are yet to be sat. And preparation on my part is so slow that it is almost insane.

It took a great deal of self control the other day to relate my experience in Centre Court last year to my Reg and my firmmate when we drove past Southfields and the hoards of people (I threw them a dirty look as we drove past....pffttt) who were flocking to the grounds. I am sure it must have been devastatingly obvious how I had gone from monotonously naming the Clinical Features of Bipolar Disorder to suddenly raising my voice a couple of octaves when I retold my excitement at watching the great man himself, Roger Federer play.

This year, I have deteriorated horribly, so to speak. It makes me devastated to think that by the time I start working next year, I will probably not even know whenever a Grand Slam is being played. I have yet to find the time to watch a single Wimbledon match properly (blame my intense stress over trying to find one last stupid specialist visit ARGH!), and I have totally not been keeping track of my Djoker's performance this time around!

The most I have done is flick through BBC Videos at the end of the day, and placate myself with these:

The.....wait for it......LEGENDARY man himself: Roger 'Fed-Ex' Federer. Whom I am still hoping will dethrone Rafa this year, even if it means trampling on my Djoker to get to Centre Court on Sunday.

And who could forget the Near-Invicible creature this Serbian has become this year: the man who started it all by sparking off my interest in tennis - My Djoker.

So for the moment, as we cruise into Week 2 of this year's showdown of the creme de la creme of all Grand Slams, I am aware of how much I lack the euphoria and anticipation of the past year....simply because I lack the time.

And as much as I harbour resentment against these exams just because I am skewed in where my passions lie, I promise myself this: that next year I will frequent the grounds SO often that by the end of it, I will have exhausted Wimbledon in every possible way, and that means not just having to rely on a recapitulation of these amazing showdowns or ponder on a distant memory of my surreal moment in Centre Court in 2010.

Wimbledon, I'll be seeing you yet. Let's keep our fingers crossed.

Something Old, Something New...

....Something Borrowed, Something Blue.

I must be the most unromantic person in the entire female population universally.

Back in school, when my friends had dreams about their weddings in full detail - down to their dresses, the flower bouquets they were going to carry, the interior of their reception hall and so on, the most I could offer on my part was roll my eyes and declare, in all sincerity, that I really wasn't interested.

When asked to describe my dream wedding in words, all these years later, my response is exactly the same as it was when I was a teenage girl.

I don't know, really.

To be fair, the realistic side of me means that I should probably take baby steps, one at a time, and only speak of this when I actually have a tangible wedding candidate. Yet, to be honest, I am not being pessimistic. Because the obsolete truth was that I really didn't care, still don't...or rather, to put it more subtly, I am pretty much flexible and pretty much up for anything.

Which made me move on to pen down another prerequisite in a future husband:

- Able to plan the wedding and its further minute details.

Lol, I kid.

All the same, a friend remarked that this was a dream practically every girl had had some time in her life, and it was almost as though I was developmentally missing a milestone not to echo this thought at all. Hence, I decided to come up with the bare minimum, i.e. set my style straight.

In terms of my preferred styles of wedding dresses, of course! Because God forbid I will have to strut down the aisle in something horrendously un-Shing in every single way!

There wasn't much difficulty in terms of browsing through a website and mentally short-listing. I was done in 5 minutes.

Elie Saab was a sure-win. I have always been a huge fan, and there is something about his designs that overshadow the crowd favourites of Vera Wang or lately, Alexander McQueen (Sarah Burton). There is nothing about his soft, feminine lines that one can dislike, and even for a wedding cynic like me, I was thoroughly sold.

Fangirl much. Hah!

This gown above, with its flowy layers of French lace, was an instant favourite immediately! (Virtually to me of course. How easy when there is no thought of real cost at hand when picking out an outfit. Lol!)

Moving along the popular theme of lacy bodices, in the style of Duchess Kate Middleton, I stumbled across this sleek piece, which reminded me of a rather Oriental-incorporated theme - perhaps because of the neckline and the cap sleeves - and the Mermaid-inspired skirt was a definite shoo-in. Not really my style, to be honest, because.....shoot me.....I am still a believer of lower necklines in formal gowns, but definitely something more refreshing than the standard A-line skirt and strapless tube top of many a bride these days.

And yes, I contradict myself from my previous line above about wanting to be different from the standard strapless-necked gown and full skirt, but what is not to love about this piece? A true Elie Saab piece of work, if I may, written all over it, with the chiffon folds and the little train at the back.

Now to find a rich Investment Banker husband to con to buy me this *rubs hands gleefully*

Much of a 'Wedding Grinch' as I am, I could probably risk my cool facade and be all starry-eyed and giggly and tearfully joyous walking down the aisle in this while proclaiming that I knew this dress was MADE for me the moment I laid my eyes on it.

Similarly, this gown isn't standard Vera Wang / Vivienne Westwood, puffy-ballgown-skirted Princess Wedding material, but there is nothing about Elie Saab's flowy lines that can't buy me enough to be willing to be that fortunate blushing bride gliding down the aisle in this.

And of course, the Duchess of Cambridge aside, who could forget the woman who started it all. My fashion icon and one of the most stylish creatures the world has ever known: Grace Kelly

Flawless piece of work indeed. Perhaps if I were fortunate to be the next 'Princess of Monaco' in the future (read: marry the tennis player who is actually really Serbian but is based in Monaco), I would cast aside all my dress preferences and proudly carry on this 'Kelly tradition'.

My friends scoff off my cynicism and proclaim that I will be the giggly, blushing bride that I am so distasteful about, and will one fawn about planning the dream-come-true wedding that I have so vehemently veto-ed all these years.

I say: Curse me not!!!

Jokes. Perhaps, if it involves a rich Investment Banker with a ginormous fortune and an Elie Saab gown.....

Coffee-Hunting....

....Aussie Style.

It seems that these days, the BIG thing in London is Coffee Houses, Brunch Places, Breakfast Bars....popping up all over the place, and everything so far has been synonymous with the words 'Australian Style'.

Due to my large contact base in Melbourne, I have been reminded time and time again how trendy the 'Coffee Culture' is over there, so much so that it is much less of a past-time than a distinct feature of the city itself.

London, on the other hand, perhaps owing to its vastness and our lack of insight, falters behind in the quaint coffee places that a city like Melbourne has to offer. Sad, really....seeing how vibrant and colourful a place this city is in terms of gastronomy, trendy eateries and the likes.

And then we discovered that St. ALi had spread its wings to this part of the world....much thanks to Jane.

Of course, with an opening like St. ALi, it was pretty hard for us to ignore. The fact that I had received nothing but the highest of praises from every single Melbournian I had asked after, and that the owners had chosen to open their second branch 10,000 miles away from the first, definitely warranted a mention....and naturally a visit.

So off we went on our coffee hunt:

Being greeted by a myriad of Australian accents when we entered was truly heart-warming. It was as though we had just crossed over from East London to Melbourne in an instant.

I especially liked the open-plan counter where the baristas worked their magic

Flat White

Filter Coffee

Lynn obviously found the miniature milk bottle very entertaining

Overall, it was an experience worth two thumbs up! I was fondly reminded of my many dapples with excellent coffee experiences in Perth over last summer, and although many a Melbournian has vehemently reminded me that it is not a shadow of the REAL stuff they serve down in Melbourne, I still maintain that the coffee culture in the land Down Under is one thing that trumps England hands down. So much so that I almost forgive them for all being such Coffee Snobs. Gasp! (I kid, I kid!)

Also, Psssstttt.....you didn't hear it from me, but as a little birdie told me, St. ALi will soon be acquiring an Alcohol license and extending its opening hours to dinner times, so you'll be seeing me chilling there more often after I am rid of something called dreary finals.

And as for the Australian invasion to the slowly growing coffee map on this side of the waters, I am welcoming it all indeed....with open arms:

St. ALi

27 Clerkenwell Road

EC1M 5RN

London

WIP - Work In Progress

It has been a while since Meredith's narrations rang out clearly in my mind, amidst all the new and upcoming drama that Greys spurts out each week.

This particularly stuck, and reminded me why she was my favourite character to start of with years ago.

"I always thought I'd be happier alone.

Not because I like being alone. But it's easier to be alone.

Because what if you learn that you need love and then you don't have it?

What if you like it....and lean on it?

What if you shape your life around it? And then it falls apart....."

Likewise, I am a piece of work under construction.

But at the moment, with Korean dramas, tennis, coffee and friends, who needs to dwell on the grey bits of it all?

C'est la vie :)

Dear 16-Year-Old Self...

In between some random surfing of the web and procrastinating, I came across some blog posts that then inspired me to write one of my own: a letter to my 16-year-old self, a stroll down memory lane to reassure that teenage girl back then about the ups and downs that had seemed larger than life again.

Dear 16-Year-Old Shing,

When December finally swung around and Form 4 finally ended, I know it seemed like all too much of a relief because that ridiculously long and tumultuous year felt like it would never end. Firstly, I wish I could have given you a good shaking in the beginning back then when you started off the year taking Form 4 for granted, just because you thought topping the class for the past 10 years before was a sure-win even though you knew very well that you were being placed in a highly-pressurised environment with all the other straight A students from the other classes.

And even though it was good that you finally gathered your wits about you and went on to maintain the straight A's that were so expected of you, but I wish you could have had someone like me to tell you back then that no matter how brilliant you were in High School, no matter how many straight A1's you scored in SPM later on, or during your A-Levels, no one could ever have predicted the slump in intellect and discipline when you entered Medical School....when you were in the same class as 300 other aspiring doctors who are 10 times smarter and sharper than you.

Having said that, Shing, it is no good to harp on the negatives. You should dwell on the positives while you still can. Amidst those chatting / note-writing sessions you had with your bestie Manda during Sejarah lessons, BM lessons and more, despite how many times teachers might have caught you guys out for not paying attention: believe me when I say this, you should have spent MORE lessons gossiping with Manda instead of listening to the Sejarah lesson drone on and on.

Because you would not have come to realise in those days of seeing her for 8 hours or more EVERY single day, that one day would come when the two of you would be half a world apart, and that the last time you saw each other would be 4 whole years ago.

And the same would apply for your other amazing girl friends. At this point you will not know it yet, but a time will come when you realise that everyone has moved on leading their own lives, turning into hotshot architects, lawyers, physiotherapists and doctors, but the one thing to be grateful for is that you have still been able to see Voon on an annual basis, for standard Kch-style NYE Celebrations that go down in history. And a day will come when you are thankful that this bond between the two of you.....this Best Fried - Best Boiled bond, has not wavered, thanks to the fact that she will one day move back to Kch to be that hot-shot architect that you always knew she would be.

Fast forward a couple of years down the line, and you will realise, that no matter where your life takes you, your heart will always stay in Kch. And that you would be eternally grateful for those God-given amazing friends that have been around to hopefully, last a lifetime.

Of course at 16, you would not know this, because you have worn that same freaking school uniform for the past 4 years or so and you can't wait to be rid of it. But that year of Form 5 after this would fly by as though it never had before, and you would take off to the UK, where you always knew you would end up. Parent biasness, what can I say? Lol.

And at 16, you would not anticipate the 2 years after that would be the most incredible years of your life. I wish I could have flagged it up to you now, so you could have been ready to make the most out of your CC days. Because this was where you would meet the best friends in your life, who would go on to touch your life in so many ways, and leave such a huge mark.... that although most of them would eventually move on and away....back to Malaysia or to Singapore to continue achieving great things in life: you know that these are friendships that are made to last. God knows what would have happened had you not crossed paths the first day with Jenn in the airport, and had not later met Hanna, Rex & Noemi....and eventually, grown closer to CK, WL and Munchkin.

And of course, the most important thing to say to you, at 16 years old, would be that you would eventually achieve that life-long dream of yours to enter medical school, and with God's will, finally become a doctor next year.

Whether or not you will become that Neurosurgeon that you aspired to be at 14, or the Cardiologist you later realised was potentially more realistic, that is a matter to be discussed years further on. I will update you again when I have hit 35, whether or not you ended up doing Internal Medicine or Surgery or *gasp* dare I say it.....Obs & Gynae!

At Med School, you would go on to meet a whole cohort of other amazing people. None of whom you could have travelled a journey this difficult and this far without.

There is no 'What if....' that comes along with what would have happened if you had not met Pei Hua, or Yuan Lih or LX, because it would be difficult to describe and imagine you without them. You see, you have yet to know it now, but they will go on to understand you in every way, be it to catch you when you fall into the darkest of holes, or laugh along at every lame attempt at a joke you make.

So nonetheless, my dear 16-year-old girl, I am sure it has transpired now that you needn't have worried about getting along with people and finding friends whom you can click with after leaving the comfort zone of Kch and Lodge. God is kind on you, and you will have a comfortable circle of friends through thick and thin wherever you go.

As for matters of the heart though, that is another page in the book. I wish I could have told you back when you were 16 that those minor 'heartaches' that you suffered from the random high school crushes, the moments when your heart would go into AF when you saw that one crush.....hard as it is to imagine now, is something that you would possibly have liked to hold on to more tightly. Because High School crushes were the days of being 'bright and shiny', and you would realise that when later on, many a guy was to cross your path and produce blow after blow to your heart that you wondered whether you could possibly feel again in this state of trauma.

You would not have known at 16, when your one major high school crush left school, that you guys would ever see or speak to each other again. Who knew that years along the line, you guys would be even better friends than before, and that he would ironically be the one constant 'guy' there for you throughout tears and heartbreaks from all those others. You might have wished you had taken more initiative to treasure the high school days spent with him then, but not to worry. You guys will continue to be friends for a long time coming.

For better of for worse, I would urge you to be fully optimistic, because there is surely one guy out there... somewhere in this huge world who is completely in sync with you, and when the time comes, you will KNOW without a doubt, idealistic as this might seem. But then again, at 16 you should be full of hopes and dreams. Cynicism will come later. Don't rush it.

I know this is a whole lot to take in, literally....and at 16, I hope your English is as up to par as it would be later on. No worries though, I think you would have read alot more at 16 to add to your vocab than you would later on when your brain is even failing to take in short excerpts of medical blurb.

But the end point is this: that at 16, you would not have known what the world beholds, 10 years down the line. And unless you had a Crystal Ball, the best way is to live every day to the fullest, and put in your everything to achieve whatever you aspire to do this lifetime.

In terms of growing up though, do not fret. I can assure you that you will mature year by year, as tedious a process as it might be, as painful a lesson as you might come across on the way, to eventually be a down-to-earth, worldly, 25-year-old young lady. Poised, grounded and possibly with a flair for fashion.

We will speak again another 10 years from now, perhaps. Until then, take care. Hang in there. You are in for one hell of a ride!

It's a Tiger World

As long as I could remember, I have been accustomed to the 'Chinese' style of parenting, as described famously by Amy Chua in her book - 'Battle Hymn of the Tiger Mother', which I immediately got hold of a copy after I read her much-talked about article on the WSJ online: "Why Chinese Mothers are Superior".

Ever since then, I have been very open about proclaiming myself to be a huge fan of the 'Tiger Mother', and even managed to strike up a prolonged topic of conversation with a certain Neurologist about the book. I would invariably make my own kids practise the piano 3 hours or more a day, drill scales and arpeggios, make sure they hit Carnegie Hall-material within a couple of years, and expect them to turn out no less than successful, educated people who were not just around to be a waste of space and oxygen to society, yet retain the filial piety of a well brought-up Chinese kid.

Twenty odd years later, I admit that my childhood was no box of chocolates. My mum was as militant about school grades, music achievements, sports, dancing and being an all-rounder as any 'Chinese Mother' could get. And yet, still, twenty odd years later, even though I have not turned out to be the world class Cardiothoracic Surgeon, Royal Philharmonic Orchestra Flautist, Prima Ballerina, or Pullitzer-Prize winning Writer, I had dreamed of being as a little girl, I offer no regrets on my lack of childhood drama.

For if it were not for the tight schedules, constant fear evoked within when I got less than an A on any subject, and endless lectures-turned-tirades, I would not have been the person I am today.

Sure, I look about 10 times stronger than I really am, emotionally at least. Physically, I can vouch for - I have the strongest grip and super broad shoulders - but I kid, I kid. As much as I can turn into a sentimental schmuck when it comes to certain matters in life, I owe every bit of determination and strength I possess today to my mum's parenting methods and her amazing ability to drill sense into me, yet motivate me in the best ways whenever I needed them most.

It is a 'Chinese' thing, I am sure, and an acquired skill nonetheless, to disguise your true feelings and put on a front, hence the practice of never heaping praise or accepting it openly, despite how the heart might really be overflowing with emotion within. And I have grown up having perfected this skill, possibly to my own downfall at times. But I realise that in Amy Chua's context, there was never a doubt that the relationship she possesses with her daughters is a priceless one, and the entire book is pretty much Tongue In Cheek - humour which I totally get :) - and a similar shadow of the relationship I share with my own mum.

So all these years later, even though I have deteriorated from being near the top of a class of students to flailingly surviving Med School. Even though I have momentarily lost all the ambitions and visions I built earlier in terms of achieving the most of my medical career. Even though I am now nothing to show a whole childhood of discipline and character-building, I have grown up. In so many ways that even I have not realised myself, into this TwentySomething young lady, who hopefully one day, will possess as much poise as did her Super Mum.

And who hopefully will one day, get to practice the cardinal teachings of her one biggest idol, the Tiger Mother.

Picnic Royale

Picnicking - London style.

Or perhaps, even Royal style, because we had ours one very sunny Saturday morning at Regent's Park, which happens to be one of the Royal Parks in London.

The last time we had been on a picnic was back in Sept '09, which was a pretty impromptu thing in Hyde Park, also planned by Daisy Hoo, but with much less 'grandeur' and preparation, i.e. alot less food, no picnic mats to sit on and no frisbee.

This Easter weekend, however, we upped our picnic standards a couple of notches with MORE food than the 6 of us could finish:

The HUGE spread - credits to Lynn who painstakingly prepared most of it

The Girls, who happen to be 2 sets of BFF's :)

T'was a lovely day!!

With lovely flowers in bloom as well

And because Jody had been eyeing the frisbee Bao donated to me last year from the start of the picnic, Lynn and I got roped into a pathetic game of frisbee with the guys, partly because much of my movement was restricted by my VERY LONG skirt, and partly because we girls were just lousy athletes.

(Pictures from Lynn's amazing Canon G11. Much thanks.)

The weather was picture perfect that day, perhaps a tad too sunny for April, as though it was already summer, but as usual, my efforts at trying to be a hero and going out bare-shouldered with no cover-up left me with red imprints on my back the following day, and two pale streaks where my spaghetti straps were.

What happened to the lesson learnt at Wimbledon, ey Shing?

Have been embracing the Easter break to the fullest this year, a very different, relaxing, other end of the spectrum from my super hectic 2-holidays-crammed-in-one-break last year.

And on Wednesday, we head to the hometown of William Shakespeare.

More pictures to come. Watch this space :)

The First Days of Spring

These days when the sun is out and the current stat count is T-4 days till Easter Break, we have pretty much abandoned all medical knowledge and discipline to read. Seriously, goodness knows how long it has been since I have picked up a medical book.

So with all thoughts of Obs & Gynae completely abandoned (anything learnt in placement this week will be doomed, I tell you), more traipsing around London continued with Lynn and YL.

Notes, Music and Coffee - awesome place tucked away in Covent Garden, and definitely one of my better efforts at photo-taking

Mirror Images

Flat White

And from coffee to Flavoured Belgian Beer / Apple Cider post-exams last Wednesay:

YL's Cider and My Fruli (new-found Favourite)

And on a fine Sunday, while people were busy pounding London's roads for the long-awaited London Marathon, we leisurely sidled down East (Central) London, across the Thames to London Bridge

Stopping in front of some tulips along the way

And rediscovering our Polka Dot craze

The first days of Spring are truly here to stay. And as much as our week's worth of placements are completely doomed due to our lack of focus and End- of- Term moods, I say 'Sod It' for now.

Sun, Spring, Flowers, Awesome friends and one of the prettiest cities in the world.

And to top it all off, a virtual showdown between Roger Federer and Novak Djokovic at Wimbledon this Thursday to finish off the term:

What better way to prepare for this year's Wimbledon than Top Spin Move?

The Real Winner

Unbeaten this year.... invincible, to say the least.

That is my Djoker for you :)

A 24 match winning streak, and STILL winning!

What started off as a disbelief in him reaching YET another final, and declaring adamantly that he would stand no chance against the King of a Spaniard Rafa Nadal, proved immediately where my loyalties (and heart) will always lie, the moment I watched the final set showdown between these two.

Instantly, I knew. Once a fan, always a fan.

Djoker must have sensed my escalating frustration with Liverpool and decided to give me something to cheer about this season, sports-wise.

And to quote:

'The real winner today has to be Tennis, as a sport. Both Rafa Nadal and Novak Djokovic deserve equal credits for a fabulous final'

And for the cherry on top of the cake, we decided to tweet Djoker to congratulate him. Different approaches, but both seambursting-laughter-worthy. Lol.

Let's go now, Nole! This is the Real Winner you were made out to be.

And it helps to put more smiles on my face as well :)

Anchoring Heuristic

I thought this weekend would never come.

The end of this past week was eventful for me. For one, I finally managed to complete my last Mini-Cex with a Consultant, which I had been having near nervous breakdowns each end of the week about - which would account to about 4 in total - because it was THAT difficult for me to get hold of a Consultant who was willing to watch me examine someone and stick to his word at that.

Hence I had horrendously bad moods most Thursdays in Guildford, because I was going home to London for the weekend with a failure, YET again. Which might have somehow contributed to the fact that I only associated it with negative feelings.

And eventually, it was only natural to hate Paeds.

Perhaps hate is too strong a word. Maybe STRONGLY dislike.

And then on Wednesday when I got my final CEX signed off, I started reflecting and realised, retrospectively, that perhaps.....perhaps it was not Paediatrics per se, but ME after all.

The fact that I had started off thinking that I would not fare well with kids, and my mounting frustration with not being able to get my final CEX done, had turned into an anchoring heuristic. And as we all know, the mind is larger than life. It plays tricks. And I am possibly a master of mind games - being able to continually trick myself into believing something or the other just because I wanted to.

I have plodded millions of steps along this path of life, in hopes of achieving my lifelong dream of becoming this professional provider of healthcare and medicine, and there are many times such as these that when given the chance to pause and ponder, I wonder if I will ever be cut out to be that cool-as-cucumber doctor that I have admired so much, or if I ever do - which field I would be truly passionate about...for a lifetime.

I have anchored myself into thinking I love Cardiology, so much so that I have omitted the fact that it takes alot more to be a Cardio God than just a large-eyed Med Student who spends more time daydreaming than improving knowledge about Paediatric Cardiology, for instance.

At the end of the day, we shall see which path leads me to whichever destination....in the hope that I do get somewhere in terms of my career. And for the moment, anchoring heuristics are possibly more unhealthy than they might make out to be. Or perhaps, it is just that in my efforts to build a stronger personality, I have incorporated some sort of bullheadedness into me as well.

Whoever said things got easier the faster you grew up? Lol.