September 14th, 2009

Charah coffee

(US Open 2009) It's that guy again.

It's the fourth Grand Slam final of the year, and it's the same guy on one end of the court again.

Made all four Grand Slam finals. And he's the oldest player in the top 10. This is in a year when everyone was writing him off during the early hard court season, when everyone was talking about Rafael Nadal and Andy Murray, when he didn't win a single title for 8 months.

Have I mentioned that he's the oldest player in a top 10 that's made up of new, up-and-coming players, supposedly all snapping at his heels? Not that they've done much damage in terms of Grand Slams.

HE'S MADE THE FINAL GRAND SLAM FINAL OF THE YEAR AFTER REACHING THE OTHER THREE AND WINNING TWO OF THEM. Again. What a shame he didn't win Australia; if he had won that, he would have a shot at the Grand Slam tomorrow when he plays for his sixth straight US Open.

In the other SF, Del Potro completely demolished Nadal 6-2, 6-2, 6-2. Nadal's worst Grand Slam defeat ever. I kind of wish Roger had been the one to dish it out, but the truth is, Del Pot's a bad match-up for Nadal because he's so tall and he doesn't give a shit about Nadal's extreme topspin forehand to his double-handed backhand. Roger struggles with the Nadal forehand because he's a single-hander and it's harder to control the backhand return when you've only got one hand on the racquet (everytime I take one hand off my backhand, I feel like my racquet is dictating things, not the other way round); Del Pot plays double-handed, AND he's fucking tall.

The las time Roger and Del Pot played on a hard court, Del Pot got bageled twice by GodFed. Kind of hoping something similiar occurs tomorrow so that the match can end ASAP, Roger gets his sixth straight US Open ASAP, and I can sleep in peace ASAP. That said, Del Pot's improved beyond belief since the January match and I think I can forget about sleeping tonight.


I slept at 7 this morning (didn't sleep at all the whole night) watching the Fed/Djoke semi. It started past 4.30 a.m., ended at 7.15 a.m. Quite mediocre tennis from Roger (by his standards. Especially in a Grand Slam SF), though he had patches of brilliance when he played amazing shots - shots that, no matter how many times I've watched him play, will still get the same slack-jawed reaction from me.

But this shot? This shot in the following video - I don't even have the words to describe it.



I was absolutely dying for the last two sets. Absolutely falling asleep. Thankfully there were some tense moments that kept me awake; otherwise, I would've missed that Genius Shot of the Century as it happened.

Further thoughts:

1. Roger's returns were quite shoddy.

2. Where were his first serves?!

3. Big serves to the rescue, as usual, when he needed them.

4. Djoke had no chance at all.

5. Djoke was so funny during that prolonged exchange at the net, when he kept volleying back to Roger who kept trying to pass him. At Djoke's fifth unsuccessful volley winner, he crouched down with his back to Roger and covered his head, with the tip of his racquet between his legs. HAHA WTF.

6. Djoke played like a joker and didn't seem to take this seriously. What the hell?

7. If Roger had been on attack mode the whole match, Djoke wouldn't have won so many games.



On another note, I saw this on Tris' blog and had the misfortune of watching it (thanks ah friend):

<object width="640" height="390"><param name="movie" value=""></param><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"></param><param name="allowScriptAccess" value="always"></param><embed src="" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowfullscreen="true" allowScriptAccess="always" width="640" height="390"></embed></object>

What the fuck is this fuckery. "Leopard prings". Among many other things.

What the fuck is this fuckery, I repeat.

I repeat again: What. The. Fuck. Is. This. Fuckery.

It's so bad that I can't even make fun of it. It's so bad that I can't even laugh. It's so bad that all I can do is weep silent tears for the demise of this country, because she's pretty much the average Singaporean in terms of the way she speaks English.

I don't know what else to say, except that I honestly cannot comprehend how anyone can sound like that. Strange, right? I'm Singaporean, even went to Jurong Junior, and I don't exclusively hang out at Bukit Timah. But I honestly cannot understand this. And I cannot understand the fuckhead idiots who chose this person to represent the country. Sure, she literally represents the country, but the day we accept that this is it for us is the day I finally hang my head in shame.

What an idiot. That is all.

Charah coffee

Life Fail.

Remembered that I haven't filled out the whatever land transfer shit.

Filling it out now. Pedantic plodding nonsense.

Fucking irritated. Not just with impending tutorial (for which I am surprisingly not rushing), but with the general fail that life is so capable of being.

And of course, when I say 'life', I mean 'my life'.

Nothing to look forward to anymore after US Open ends. Yay. Fantastic.

If Roger doesn't win, this bad mood will for sure get worse.

Feel trapped and lost.

Oh fuck.

Charah coffee

Non est factum?

Conveyancing tutorial is like this:




I drove to the Sub Courts. I went for tutorial just to sign against my name. I sat next to Rui. The tutor talked to the two, three students in front of him. I left the Sub Courts. Rui and I went to the dim sum place across the road for food. Rui went home (safely). I drove to Dempsey. I sat at Dome. I drank a latte. When my drink arrived I decided I really wanted it iced. I drank my warm latte. I sat on the couch and did nothing. I got up to go to the toilet. The toilet had a 'cleaning in process' sign outside. I gave up. I went to the counter. I paid. I walked out of Dome. I got into my car. I turned on the engine. I drove off.

I drove into law school. Remembered the days I took three intensive modules a semester. Remembered the days I had 6.30 PM classes every day for three weeks, then two-day weeks every week after that. Remembered driving to school sometimes, not really wanting to be there, going for classes, always complaining about the amount of things I had to read (but never did), dreading assignment deadlines but eventually deriving some fun in doing the papers.

Remembering law school, what it felt like to be there in anticipation of the future. Not at all what it feels like to be there, already in the future I was once anticipating, and not really liking it one bit.

Not liking it at all.

Driving here and there, walking here and there, taking the MRT, going to places, and then waiting around for anyone to tell you what you even got there for. Waiting around for someone to tell me what the hell I'm doing here. What the hell it is that apparently drove me to decide this was what I wanted?

Thing is, the flimsy decision wasn't a real one. My hubris got the better of me four years ago; it got the better of me a year ago. Thing is, I'm doing this not out of any real desire for it, not because it's what I've wanted since I was born; I'm doing this because it looks like the logical consequence, because everyone else is doing it, because it seems like the correct thing to do. But then again, if the starting point that got me here was fundamentally flawed, does it not taint everything that comes after it? I want to use a legal terminology here that fits, something to do with illegality tainting something, but I don't remember what it is.

It's fine and dandy if I just plodded along and went with the flow. Too bad I had to stop and think about this. About what I'm doing, why I'm doing, whether there was any real thought given to the process.

Not really. Not at all. The decision I undertook when I was 19 was made ultra vires. And now, this next step, I don't even know.

Tired from the internal melodrama. Tired of being unhappy, dissatisfied, feeling empty day in day out, feeling listless and bored, feeling aimless, direction-less. Deracinated, once again. Breathing underwater.

Feels like an old familiar scene. Feels like the first two years of law school.

Feels like I've lost myself all over again.


I really intended to go home from Dempsey but I found myself not turning left from Upper Bukit Timah road to the way home. I found myself going straight, to Dairy Farm, then turning left to Dairy Farm, then going straight, all the way to Wei Chuen's house.

To say he's incredibly sweet would be an understatement. He wiped away my tears and held me close to him, and logically I knew what he was saying was right, and rationally I agreed; but oh my god, felt fucking emotional, couldn't think at all, I sat next to him with his arms around me and cried.

I feel lost and bewildered, driving straight ahead on expressways desperately looking for a road that sounds familiar to me, lost and confused, and lost...and then he brings me home.