I am going to hand in my Honours dissertation tomorrow, effectively completing my university education. It’s surreal, bittersweet… You name it, I feel it. In my writing, at several moments, I remembered you. Taken from my thesis acknowledgements:

My supervisor, Dr. Rebecca Suter, who has been simply indispensable in the past year – my sincerest thanks and deepest appreciation for your unceasing patience, graciousness and optimism, as well as your valued tutelage and guidance in and outside of this Honours programme. Having you as a supervisor has been a joy, indeed. Domo arigato, sensei.

Davina and Tina, my partners in crime during this pivotal stage of our lives – as we near the end of the different phases of our university education, having still kept our sanity, I am reminded of how much your companionship has meant to me. Thank you for the study sessions, text messages and cups of coffee throughout the year (not forgetting the previous three); all of which have given me the encouragement and energy to press on.

Jessie, Rosa, Preethi, William, David and Elizabeth – all blessed with analytical minds and wonderful personalities, whose corresponding journeys have been a great source of support. I hope our paths will cross in the future.

Ernest, Eliss and my cell members – I have never witnessed more generosity and willingness of heart, nor have I experienced a dull moment with you. Thank you for the laughs on the weekend and your prayers during the week. Keep in touch!

Kay-Lene, my dearest and ever-present ‘old same’ – thank you for sympathising; for listening to my gripes; and for not holding it against me when I do not have the time to hear yours. I am more grateful for you than I am able to express.

Gerard and Amy, my encyclopaedias and voices of reason – thank you for the sage advice you have dispensed, even before I undertook this thesis project.

Roger F., excellence personified – to me, he is the archetype of hard work and strength of mind.

My parents and siblings, for your unconditional love – words are not enough to convey my indebtedness to the affirmation you have shown in my choices.

Last but not least, my Almighty God – the comfort during my most uninspired days and my beacon in the darkest of circumstances. You have never left my side.

Inspired by Joachim (it happens more often than I care to admit)…

All evoke emotion and ambition – senses so strong that they might very well outweigh my abilities. This isn’t false modesty – little else is worse than falling short of expectations.

Put simply, there is no satisfactory way to describe the Roddick-Federer Wimbledon final.

I usually am very stingy about including other players in a Roger Federer post, but I would be remissed if I did not mention Andy Roddick’s glorious display of an arsenal of skills throughout the tournament, which stunned even the most staunch of naysayers. As predicted, Roddick made Federer work for it. Their final match was a far cry from the one in 2004, when Roddick’s kitchen sink was unceremoniously rebounded by Federer’s bathtub – this time, Roddick brought along other household utilities. He swept aside Tomas Berdych, Lleyton Hewitt and Andy Murray – not easy feats by any means – and despite the popular pre-match opinion, it was a near-possible task for Roddick to scale and conquer the Swiss Alp, almost too close for comfort in the first and fourth sets. As devoted as I am to ‘Rog’, it is such a pity to see Roddick lose after an agonising 30-game fifth set, which he really didn’t deserve.

Perhaps the poem by Rudyard Kipling, emblazoned in the Wimbledon clubhouse, best surmises Roddick’s comeback, as well as Federer’s reascent to greatness (old married dudes have still got it!). I must admit that I am ‘ye of little faith’ – never in my time spent in wishful thought did I believe that 2009 would be the year Federer reclaimed his Wimbledon and World Number 1 titles, the latter being an unprecedented achievement. His victory at Roland Garros compensated for the Australian Open heartbreak and it buoyed my self-assurance of a Federer win, but that soon plummeted after the first set and brought back the nightmare of last year’s epic match. To see how visibly subdued I was, you wouldn’t know the havoc that was going through my mind until Roddick served the forehand that sent the ball into oblivion.

My head still throbs; my eyes are bloodshot from weeping; my backside aches from six hours of sitting; my heart is threatening an aneurism; and my body has yet to recover from two weeks of sleep-deprived nights. When it comes to Federer, it is ‘no holds barred’ – nothing is too long, too outlandish, too emotional, too stark raving mad… Many people cannot take me seriously, but there are reasons why he is worthy of the fanfare – 20 Grand Slam finals, 15 Grand Slams, Career Slam, World Number 1.

By no stretch of the imagination, Roger Federer’s win at Roland Garros was extraordinary, not to mention a long time coming. Having never won the Coupe des Mousquetaires, made worse by his fall slight decline from greatness in 2008, this makes his victory even sweeter. As a Federer fanatic, I am tired of seeking written therapy after his losses, so it is appropriate (and only mildly crazy) that I, too, am putting so much significance into this post.

Joachim and I, being hardcore tennis geeks who don’t actually play the sport, place an unhealthy amount of weight on superstition and fate. I can’t speak for Joachim and his karmic relationship with Rafael Nadal, but when it comes to Federer, I strongly believe in the butterfly effect… And wearing lucky underwear. Very few could have predicted that he would equal Pete Sampras’ record of 14 Grand Slams on this clay surface… I’m serious – Federer was meant to win!

The Fed Express (who else thought it was destiny that the FedEx logo was brazenly displayed on the sponsorship boards?) forced me to ignite my interest in this tournament, giving me the last-minute opportunity to watch the match with Davina (and 100 strangers) at Star City in my last year in Australia, an exhilarating experience I would have foregone any other time. Then, only do I realise that there is something better than catching a final with your siblings at home (no offence to Vanessa and Christopher).

Shot-in-the-dark theories aside, I’m going with the simple and say that I’m happy to be writing about this particular Federer achievement. I’m happy to have seen a semblance of his signature style of graceful poetry. I’m happy that he shrugged off the pressures of the Grand Slams record and Career Slam laurel, as well as the momentary scare suffered in the second set, to win his first French Open title. I’m happy he’s ecstatic.

When reality hits with such severity, it takes an elephantine effort to believe in better times ahead, especially for a hopeless pessimist like yours truly. Normally one who is continually enamoured with Barack Obama, I cannot help but pay attention to what the critics have to say this time.

I want Jon Favreau’s job; better yet, I want to be Jon Favreau:

1. Who wouldn’t?
2. He gets to create alongside Barack Obama, Rahm Emanuel, David Axelrod and other great names – all delicious and brilliant in their own right.
3. To have Obama speak the words he writes… Come on!
4. He plays around with the written word of our time – I like that.
5. Starbucks gives him wings…

How befitting and equally rousing – a day after MLK Day, Inauguration Day also signified a turning point in American history. And it’s about time.

“Our challenges may be new. The instruments with which we meet them may be new. But those values upon which our success depends – hard work and honesty, courage and fair play, tolerance and curiosity, loyaly and patriotism – these things are old; these things are true. They have been the quiet force of progress throughout our history. What is demanded, then, is a return to these truths. What is required of us now is a new era of responsibility; a recognition, on the part of every American, that we have duties to ourselves, our nation and the world; duties that we do not grudgingly accept but rather, seize gladly, firm in the knowledge that there is nothing so satisfying to the spirit, so defining of our character, than giving our all to a difficult task.”

Just when I started to regret putting Barack Obama on such a high pedestal and thinking that he’s akin to a rockstar, for fear of being disappointed, he reminded me why he won the Election in the first place – he is downright inspiring. Forget the fact that his African-American heritage symbolised a shift in racial politics, which warrants enough celebrated pride - among other qualities he embodies within his je na sais quoi, Obama’s honesty and rapport with even the most common of folk will mark history in a profound and prolific way.

Having travelled to the United States and witnessing the capacity and spirit of the American people, coupled with the fact that they are behind a President like never before, I truly believe that this will be an epoch of promises kept.

I am happier and more thankful than I am able to express.

Words of wisdom either challenge me to never fall victim to worldly adversity, or they encourage me to live life with unadulterated audacity.

At its best, 2008 was lacklustre and I’m eager to leave it behind. Not all things will work out well (Roger Federer might not regain his Wimbledon and World Number 1 stronghold), but 2009 definitely feels like a year of possible change (Barack Obama being one paramount figure to initiate it).

And in my own world, I am determined, more so than previous years, to follow through with my New Year’s resolutions, albeit a pitiful success rate; if anything, to have an itinerary for this year-long journey.

1. Carpe diem!
   Do everything I want to do, as well as anything that catches my fancy, especially when a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity presents itself.
2. Return to God.
   2005 made a mockery of my emotions, but He was the fine line between a good and bad year.
3. Eat healthily and get back into shape.
   I miss the physique of a bygone era.
4. Be more friendly, polite and courteous (because other humans exist too).
   Basically, do the opposite of common Singaporean behaviour – we can be the most impervious of people.
5. Be less malicious.
   I am the worst friend. 
6. Always look on the bright side of life.
   I need to be less dramatic; bad outcomes do not warrant a death sentence and I should take things in my stride.
7. Be less vulgar (and eventually eliminate profanities from my vocabulary).
   This will not be a bleeping doozy.