Simonscaped

It is time my friends, for us to stop meeting like this.

I intend for this to be my last entry into this online journal.

I let the web ensnare my thoughts on a whim some years ago. Later justification for this blog's existence was typical.

It was a way for my parents to keep track of me, to let my friends know what I was up to etc, etc...

But you write for yourself. It's an indulgence, a chance to entertain, to get on a soap-box, to write what is difficult to say. A fun little opportunity to sneak my future self little hidden messages to celebrate and ruminate on a time and a world gone by.

The tagline for this blog is "a tree grows in Hamilton". I'm not done growing. None of us are. But I am grown up. I don't know how it happened. I suppose somewhere in the past few years, I realized that I trust my own judgment more than I trust anyone else's.

And I think that this is the way that it should be.

I have had a wonderful time in Hamilton, and in medical school. Like all goodbyes, this comes sooner than I expected, and is a little bittersweet. I'm proud of my little piece of the world wide web, and I truly appreciate if you've ever taken the time to peruse this blog. If you ever want to know what I'm up to, or to be alerted if I start blogging somewhere else, please fire me an email! (chan_siu_man|at|hotmail.com)

My adventures will continue! As, I am sure, will your own.

Until we meet again,
Simon

Water nature

I'd like to go snorkeling between now and residency.

My sister tried and it and she said it was super fun.

To train for this, I will start holding my breath during the day.

In fact, this whole thing was written with me holding my breath?

Impressive, isn't it? Look how much I can write in one breath!

I can keep going! All in one breath! Look at me go! Ok... this is about it i can't holdinag;l

Old news: Vince Carter is useless

A sports recap:

1. Phoenix. Hooray for Steve Nash!
2. Senators. I never thought I'd see this day. I remember when Sylvain Turgeon was our star and the jersey had the Peace Tower on it. Now they're like... gritty play-off performers or something. How'd that happen?
3. Warriors. Please win.
4. Vince Carter. I remember once, when he was a Raptor, they ran an iso play for him to win the game. He dribbled the ball off his foot. Bwahahahaha! I'm not so shallow that I get my hate on just cause he's a lousy baller. I don't like him because he's not professional. I think if you're being paid (and paid well!) to do something, you have some sort of moral obligation to do your job well.

True or False?

All good things come to and end.

Squash is a funny game

Every so often (I'd say... twice a year?) Greg and I play squash.

It started waaaay back in high school, when the two of us wandered onto a squash court after swimming lessons one day to give the sport a try. We've played each other regularly (albeit infrequently) since then. The noteworthy aspect to our bi-annual clashes is that, well... I always win.

This was not surprising (at least to me) at the outset, since I felt my experiences on badminton courts (nothing gets you chicks like being on the school badminton team) were quite applicable to squash. As time progressed however (And as Greg improved his squash skills by playing other people, while I stagnated by playing.. twice a year. Against him.), it became somewhat of an oddity that I would always walk away the winner from our squash battles.

The games are always close, but somehow the gods of squash are unkind to Greg.

Or so I thought. Until I realized, half and hour into todays game of squash, that Greg has become an entirely different squash player. He has developed a deadly serve. He now returns my best service efforts. He has a new finesse. He can drop the balls into the corners and can run down my balls when I try to do the same.

So naturally, I was feeling somewhat pessimistic when, after having lost virtually all of our warm up games, Greg suggested our traditional, best-of-five, winner take all, champion of the world match.

So it is that I can happily report that my winning streak continues! I really don't know how or why. I'd probably have to admit that Greg is now a better squash player than me (a position he feels that he attained several years back...), and yet the title of squash champion is safely mine for at least another six months!

I should enjoy this. I don't think this streak can go for much longer...

Listener discretion is advised.

My sisters were telling me that I have very happy music on my Mp3 player.

When they told me this, I was listening to happy music and wearing a bright yellow shirt. I think everyone would be happier if they did this.

I also think music should come with warning labels. I think I get spurred to greater action (to..uncharacteristic action?) when I'm listening to certain music. The computer people should come up with some sort of program that automatically inserts a footnote in my documents, blog entries and emails that warns of this. Something like:

note: Simon was listening to SONG when he wrote this.

Of course the program would actually put in the name of the actual song. This actually doesn't sound like it'd be that hard to program.

Final note on music/musicians.
One of the neatest ideas ever: Who stops to listen if a world famous violinist were to show up and play in a D.C. subway station?

To live

I'm feeling a bit stressed out lately. I feel like there are things to do, and I'm not getting them done very efficiently.

I've thought a lot about "how" is the best way to live. As absurd as this may sound. ie, How to best acquire skills, be happy, be fulfilled, be productive etc etc etc.

I think I may be a bit compulsive about trying things, about wanting to make sure that I haven't left stones unturned, about really fearing that I'll have lived in a way that will make me look back and think "if only..."

We focus on results and productivity so very much. We make lists, and we scurry around trying to accomplish accomplish accomplish. There are too many external incentives rewarding automaton-like behaviour!

Maybe it's just where my mind has wandered. I feel like there really IS a matrix!

Task. For EVERYONE. Live more, live better, live for real.

I kind of miss the studying...

So now that I'm post-exam, I have the freedom to figure out the details of my move, and to plan some sort of adventure with this, my last big block of vacation time.

The thing about studying is that it gives you a very clear sense of purpose. Now, I wake up late and mosey around with an unsettling sense that I really should be doing something.

Facts:
1. Moving is unpleasant.
2. Planning a vacation is stressful. Especially if everyone keeps on hyping it as "The last summer vacation you'll ever have." Which I suppose is true...

Say you had four weeks off. (I really should have stopped and appreciated this more back in grade school...) What would you do? It's almost like there are too many options.

Also, if anyone has leads on a nice one bedroom in Kitsilano, I'm all ears.

The day before

I write my licensing exam tomorrow.

I spent most of today hanging out with some Omar and Kevie from undergrad.

Omar says this blog is overly philosophical. Course this is from a guy who believes that cutting your hands on the rock wall is the only sign that you're putting sufficient effort into things.

Why am I rock climbing on the day before my exam? I was convinced by my friends who said "If the difference between you qualifying to be a doctor is 2 hours of studying, you should NOT be practicing medicine."

I found this to be a very convincing argument. That and the fact that Kevie was visiting from London (ENGLAND!), where he is a real live actor. Exciting, no?

Lasts

Today was my last day of med school.

We had our project presentations in the afternoon. On our poster, my name is followed by B.Sc. ARCT. Why not?

It's odd to think that I've had my last bus ride in Hamilton. My last haircut at my favourit hair school. My last bowl of noodles at that pho place in Westdale.

Last last last.

When will life bring me back? Back to Mac?

A huge and heartfelt thanks to my extended family in Hamilton. It's odd to think that I arrived into this town a stranger not so many years ago.

A tree grew up in Hamilton... and everything is about to change.