tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-64618902024-03-07T12:45:45.044+09:00Leveling UP!LVL7 Software EngineerFrictionhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00952543548176467720noreply@blogger.comBlogger55125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6461890.post-52355749509305756342015-09-10T15:18:00.001+09:002015-09-10T15:18:57.396+09:00Learning Excel Macros Part 1<br />
A great think to help get you started on the basics:<br />
<a href="https://support.office.com/en-in/article/Work-with-macros-654cc76b-1c9c-4632-89e1-67230322e92f" target="_blank">Work with Macros</a><br />
<br />Frictionhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00952543548176467720noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6461890.post-54721932013747115012010-10-13T23:52:00.011+09:002010-10-13T23:59:46.282+09:00Food Talk: Cosmetics, Obsessions and MagazinesRecently I've been constantly hungry. I have my ups and downs when it involves my urge to eat, and right now its at a high. Duduk sekejap je, rasa nak makan. (^_^). So it's only appropriate that I blog about food.<br />
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Recently, I've come across my latest obsession. I discovered this during an outing with my good friends Imran and Isky. We were planning to eat ice cream, when Imran suggested that we buy Twix and have it with Ice cream. "Sedap siot", "Gila ape makan ice cream dgn Coklat Bar?", "Tak nak sudah, don't expect to get any of this later. Ni aku punya je. It's awesome". Of course I'm para-phrasing but still the manic look he had was convincing enough. So I bought it. And memang sedap gileeee. Now I'm hooked. Not really sure what that means for my weight though. But hell who cares.<br />
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The next thing is probably a bit of nit picking, but hey it annoys me. If you've been to Old Town recently, you probably noticed that it has a new menu. That menu pisses me off. Its all glossy and shinny, but it's everything a menu should not be. It's more like a magazine. Fist thing that I said when I got the menu was, "Benda ni takde isi kandungan atau index ke?". Nak carik my favorite drink pun susah. I mean c'moooon, a single item takes up a whole page. A menu is suppose to be compact, clear and attractive. Part attractive tu mmg tercapai, but looking for something is a pain. They have a picture for all the drinks. ALL. And they all look the same. Waste of space. Kesian pokok2 dikorban kan. =(<br />
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Anyway, that's it from me. Excuse me while I proceed to drink and devour something.<br />
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Blogging off...Frictionhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00952543548176467720noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6461890.post-36203334853205191972010-08-15T03:20:00.003+09:002010-10-13T22:49:13.007+09:00A Sweet Addition to the FamilyI've always been fascinated on how cute babies are. I always wonder whether the undeniable thought of babies being irresistibly cute has been somehow hardwired in our brain. Or it could be a simple yet ingenious design devised by mother nature to protect it's young ones. In other words, a self defense mechanism. <br />
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You might be thinking, what's with the baby talk? Well the reason is that my family has been blessed with an additional member. A cute toddler with the name of Jazmin. As a proud uncle, I'd say she is pretty impressive for a girl her age. She isn't the fussy type and despite her very limited vocab, a girl who has a akin for chatter. Though most of the conversations degrade in to high pitch screams, I find it amusing nonetheless. Also, her liking for the AFC does somewhat put hopes that she'll someday become a world re-known chef. Scouring the world looking for the latest flavor to introduce commercially to the world. <br />
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I do admit she has a long way to go, the path littered with obstacles; the upcoming ones being crawling, walking and a few instances of building coherent sentences. But so far she is off to a wonderful start.<br />
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Blogging off....Frictionhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00952543548176467720noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6461890.post-11818161866913515582010-06-12T03:31:00.001+09:002010-06-12T17:40:56.275+09:00Things I need to remember!Here are a few reminders to myself when buying anything electronic!<br />
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1. Always plan your protection plan before actively using any product. Keep all the plastic on, until you get some good protection material. <br />
2. Try avoid anything glossy, matte is better. <br />
3. Remember and accept you are OCD when it involves electronics! Going around without protection is NOT cool. <br />
4. Attempts to restore anything, usually end up making it worse. Fight the urge and let it be... <br />
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Fuuuuh.. try to remember that before you make your next 2k purchase. (-_-)<br />
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Blogging....Frictionhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00952543548176467720noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6461890.post-85629598577310486062010-06-11T11:50:00.002+09:002010-06-11T11:51:56.979+09:00Job Opportunities in Nokia Siemens Network<b>Development Engineer</b><br />
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Main Purpose of the Role and Key Responsibilities: To understand the functionality of the existing C software in order to be able to correct software bugs as well as to develop new features. <br />
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Requirements: * Deep knowledge in C programming<br />
* Capability and willingness to understand complex existing code<br />
* Understand system behaviors and requirements of the area of responsibility<br />
* Analyze problems/features and provide design proposal for correction/implementation<br />
* Implement the software change/enhancement with high quality<br />
* Test implemented software change This is a role which requires besides a strong technical background the drive to provide high quality code. <br />
Personal Attributes: Essential Skills:<br />
* C Programming<br />
* Previous experience in telecommunications network elements<br />
* Good knowledge of UNIX<br />
* Excellent written and spoken English<br />
Desirable Skills:<br />
* Knowledge of LDAP, X500, GSM, GPRS, IMS<br />
* Knowledge of troubleshooting methodologies<br />
Essential Attributes:<br />
* Ability to comprehend technically complex problems<br />
* Proactive, Methodical, Organized, Enthusiastic, Eager to learn, Proud of own work, <br />
* Ability to communicate with people clearly in a multi-site environment<br />
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<b>Testing Engineer</b><br />
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Main Purpose of the Role and Key Responsibilities: To ensure that as part of a team the testing of each software release is to the highest standard within given time scales and to report any problems that may be found. The test coverage is based around functional as well as non-functional areas (incl. performance, robustness, stability) of large systems simulating live system scenarios. A major task is to automate test cases in order to minimize the effort necessary for retesting. <br />
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Requirements: * Understand system behaviors and requirements of the area of responsibility<br />
* Write Test Plans to validate the expected system functionality<br />
* Write Test Cases and Test Scripts<br />
* Execution of the Test Cases<br />
* Raise faults when appropriate<br />
* Write Test Reports<br />
* Setup test lab<br />
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Personal Attributes: Essential Skills:<br />
* Previous experience testing telecommunications network elements<br />
* Good knowledge of UNIX and Shell Scripting. <br />
* Excellent written and spoken English<br />
Desirable Skills:<br />
* Knowledge of troubleshooting methodologies<br />
* Knowledge of LDAP, X500, GSM, GPRS, IMS and Perl<br />
* Performance testing on TCP/IP based applications and Solaris OS Platforms<br />
Essential Attributes:<br />
* Ability to see and comprehend the big picture<br />
* Proactive, Methodical, Organized, Enthusiastic, Eager to learn, Proud of own work, <br />
* Ability to communicate with people clearly in a multi-site environmentFrictionhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00952543548176467720noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6461890.post-16839673082912172432010-03-14T23:55:00.000+09:002010-03-14T23:55:24.166+09:00HeadacheSlowly and gently he takes of his glasses, the creases on his forehead begin to ease as though a huge burden has been lifted. Positioning both of his hands close to his head, he starts to massage both temples with his thumbs hoping to subside the pain. As expected, futile. Like waves that come a go, so does the pulsing pain. He snaps his head right, then left. A satisfying crack fills the air with each movement and slowly he whispers...."damn"...<br />
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Blogging off....Frictionhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00952543548176467720noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6461890.post-69942943983787686522010-03-14T04:31:00.002+09:002010-03-14T04:31:19.197+09:00Another template update!OK, nothing to see here people. Just updated my blog template again and testing out my twitter feed.<br />
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Blogging off.... Frictionhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00952543548176467720noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6461890.post-12825470807606899362010-02-21T04:13:00.002+09:002010-02-21T04:13:33.273+09:00Strength...Strength can be a difficult thing to measure. It's the hardest to quantify.<br />
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Does persistence and perseverance seem to an observer as a virtue, or seen as just plain stubbornness?<br />
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Where does the line between bravery and stupidity lie? Is standing up for a complete stranger, an act of courage or an annoying habit of 'busy-<span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">body'ness</span>?<br />
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If strength is continuous optimism, is pessimism an escape, or a realistic view on life?<br />
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And does expressing things on a blog such as this, a sign of openness, or a sad attempt to make a mark in the real world?<br />
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No one can be exactly sure, since the world is full of steel like self-justification and unavoidable barrage of criticism from so many different colors of the spectrum.<br />
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Do you consider yourself strong? Honestly believe that you have enough willpower to last you a lifetime? If you genuinely do, then you can consider yourself lucky...<br />
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Blogging off....Frictionhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00952543548176467720noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6461890.post-75027790622854399402010-02-18T23:45:00.008+09:002010-02-19T02:27:46.029+09:00Being AgileRecently in my company they've introduced a new software development methodology called "Agile". This is totally the opposite of the traditional waterfall and milestone cycle that is rampantly used by most companies.<br />
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The idea is simple, rather than specifying requirements for the final product upfront and having huge milestones that span long periods of time, "Agile" works by providing deliverable products in shorter cycles called sprints (2 to 4 weeks). What this means for customers is that they will have a bare-bone functional product to sample and then have the flexibility to specify more requirements with each additional sprint.<br />
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It's an exciting concept in theory since the customer will end up with a product with functions that really matter since the amount of customer hands-on will increase their involvement in development. However, getting use to the idea of people knowing your progress every sprint needs some getting used to.<br />
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Management people out there, look it up. It's an excellent way to bolster the potential of your organization! Or that's what they say at least.<br />
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Here's to being guinea pigs to experimental management techniques!<br />
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Hey boring as this maybe... It is educational... I think.<br />
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Blogging off....Frictionhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00952543548176467720noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6461890.post-28543014763635394402010-02-18T18:57:00.004+09:002010-02-18T19:01:05.532+09:00Finally, updated my layoutWow, after maintaining the same look for the blog for about 6 years, I've finally managed to update the layout. It looks a bit more appealing now. Definitely not my design, but hey it's a start. Looks pretty nice though. :)<br /><br />Blogging off....Frictionhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00952543548176467720noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6461890.post-57242385473029878322009-09-04T15:01:00.003+09:002010-02-18T19:01:55.687+09:00The blog is open againMy previous attempt was a pile of bull. So, this is my second attempt to get it running again. Facebook as been taking too much of my time that I've been ignoring most of the blogs I maintained. <br /><br />I allow myself moments of absolute laziness. But each streak has to end. I'm going to dedicate my free time in utilizing my mixer and my Bamboo in these couple of weeks.<br /><br />Blogging off....Frictionhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00952543548176467720noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6461890.post-79150163514776109772009-06-12T01:28:00.003+09:002010-02-18T19:02:28.306+09:00Starting to blog again... An attempt of course...Thought of writing and making this my personal blog. More of an online journal of sort. Thus, making it by invitation.<br /><br />Will write more later. Trying to figure out who to send invitations though? hahaha... oh well. The inner circle first I guess.<br /><br />Blogging off....Frictionhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00952543548176467720noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6461890.post-47996265875295726502009-04-16T16:16:00.005+09:002010-02-21T04:01:44.594+09:00Tears of a true gentlemen<div>Almost cried watching this. Tread on soldier, tread on. </div><div><br />
</div><div><object height="344" width="425"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/8iW1xVMaSuQ&hl=en&fs=1"><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/8iW1xVMaSuQ&hl=en&fs=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"></embed></object></div><div><br />
</div><div>Blogging off....</div>Frictionhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00952543548176467720noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6461890.post-67083139606108766982009-02-13T17:59:00.005+09:002010-02-18T19:04:01.000+09:00Watch this you toads! SF Glory!<div>In the spirit of the new-realeased SF4. I present to you, the coolest SF movie remaking eva!</div><div><br /></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="white-space: pre;font-family:Arial;font-size:10px;" ><object width="425" height="344"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/55Z48SMWSHs&hl=en&fs=1"><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/55Z48SMWSHs&hl=en&fs=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"></embed></object></span><br /></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="white-space: pre;font-family:Arial;font-size:10px;" ><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="white-space: pre;font-family:Arial;font-size:10px;" ><span class="Apple-style-span" style="white-space: normal;font-family:Georgia;font-size:16px;" >Blogging off....</span><br /></span></div>Frictionhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00952543548176467720noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6461890.post-60715348798667949572009-02-13T15:33:00.004+09:002010-02-18T19:04:20.299+09:00A Gentle Cut Throat Reminder for Myself<div>1. Never trust salesmen. </div><div>2. Never spend on something by impulse. Think and then Buy. When in doubt think some more. </div><div>3. Always but something from a authorized seller. "It's cheaper here than in the store" line is a bunch of crap. </div><div>4. If there is a time limit on the offer and it translates to"Buy Now! or regret", you better walk away. </div><div>5. Buying from recommendation is encouraged. Use the internet. </div><div>6. Constantly have a mental check on where your phone, keys and wallet are. </div><div>7. Never try to answer the phone when actively playing a sport. Tennis for example. </div><div><br /></div><div>In nutshell, stop being a gullible piece of meat. This month has been bad. Sigh...</div><div><br /></div><div>Blogging off....</div>Frictionhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00952543548176467720noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6461890.post-31259494468603821412009-01-19T19:13:00.034+09:002011-06-15T12:46:10.705+09:00Wrong PrescriptionPlace: A random bathroom in some random building<br />
<div>Time: Some random time at night</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div>It felt like my nostrils were burning. It was excruciating. It wasn't the pleasant campfire warmth, more of a napalm scalding pain that seem to eat away at my flesh. It didn't help that I could feel the burning sensation creep down to my throat and spread through my lungs like raging wild fire. I flinched so hard, I almost bit my tongue off. Good thing I didn't.... </div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div>It seemed like moments ago when I felt chilled to the bone. My sweat dribbling down my face, cold sweat. Imaginary sweat. No way I could sweat and be so cold in the same time. But somehow I did. My hands were shaking like a Parkinson inflicted madman, I clumsily took out a long green cylinder. Its shape a surface, slick and smooth. Nothing like my state of mind. I struggle to grasp and twist it open. A wisp of my own definition of heaven filled the air in the room....</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div>"You should lay off that thing", Mash's stern voice seemed to echo in my head. "Prolong use will kill you". I've gone through a whole lot of shit, I doubt anything like a shot would kill me. "Yeah, yeah, I'll tone it down alright, just get of my back OK", the usual rebuttal, followed by the turn, and the walk. "Please, just listen to me....". Couldn't really hear her jabbering. I was already half way through the door. "I don't want you to turn in to a.... ". Bam! the slam of the door muffled the last remaining words.</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div>Did I mentioned that it burned? So much that I felt like pulling out my lungs and dipping them in ice water. Not that a bucket of ice water would be easy to come by, nor are a pair of detachable lungs as a matter of fact....</div><div><br />
</div><div>Viktroll was a mans best friend. Easy to come by, strong on effect and cheaper than the other shit you find on the streets. Side effects might vary. Dried throat, oral irritation, double vision, slight spinal discomfort, depression, aggression, irregular heart beat, massive hallucination, hyper-tension, psychotic/suicidal tendencies and of course my favorite, an extreme high like no other. Impatient, I wedge the cylinder up my nose (I thought I heard a 'click' when I did), and inhaled. Like a weak breeze, the effects felt unsatisfactory. I inhaled deeper. Nothing. Deeper. Nothing. Deeper.... then suddenly it came like a gust of wind. A tsunami of pleasure. It was as though all my senses lit up and exploded. And explosions are never good....</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div>Searing. How about we refer it as searing? Let's go with searing. It's a much more suitable word to express the unexplainable pain. Searing of the flesh. I could swear I could smell my own lungs sizzle. I topple, my own body convulses over the pain. My head knocks on the floor. I see blood. But I don't notice the pain. How could you feel pain with so much searing? The blood trickles and pours.... </div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div>Call somebody. Anybody. Help. I need help. My brain's last call of desperation. My hands scramble for my mobile. It obeying my will was a pleasant surprise. My fingers fiddle the buttons, my vision doing a bad job of assisting, hazy as mist. My head feels fuzzy. No, not the warm kind. The soapy kind with bubbles flowing out of my ears. I press the call button, drag my arm closer to my ear. And hope....</div><div><br />
</div><div>"Geeeee..... I'm so sorry. The Juice isn't here right now. hihihi. Probably doing something like shopping, or chitty chattering or maybe doing my hair or my nails or both. Busy busy busy. Either way, call back ya... chowwww"</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div>I cough out blood while spurting out a gurgling laugh. Just my luck. My sister. Last thing I'll hear is her giggling. Blood and saliva ooze out of the spaces between my teeth and the corners of my smile. The cylinder clasp tightly in my hand. Even in near death, my body does not want to let go. Things start to get dark. I lose all consciousness, all feeling. Except the damn searing. It burns. Mash's word kept ringing in my head over and over again. "Junkie".<br />
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<a href="http://www.pghhcl.in/images/vicksinhaler.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img alt="" border="0" src="http://www.pghhcl.in/images/vicksinhaler.jpg" style="display: block; height: 227px; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; width: 91px;" /></a><br />
<div>Blogging off....<br />
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</div>Frictionhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00952543548176467720noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6461890.post-15095294274242192252009-01-08T11:14:00.009+09:002010-02-18T19:05:14.143+09:00New Year A'hoy!Yes, people! 2009 in here. Sorry for the late greetings, but this new year has been exciting, and busy as well. Well here I am, back blogging.<br /><br />So where do we start... hmm...<br /><br />Oh yeah, I salute and dedicate a vigorous wave to year 2008. It was one of the most challenging years of my life. It was filled with spit in the face-down in the dirt-c'mon go ahead step on me periods. A lot of bumps, a few ravines, but somehow I made it across. Not unscathed though, but I do feel a sense of pride knowing I managed to pull myself out of one of my low points in my life.<br /><br />Of course people tend to remember the bad, but 2008 was mix bag of good stuff as well. Partings with friends and loved ones was indeed difficult, but then you discover how valuable friendship is. You learn to keep the ones close, closer.<br /><br />The biggest lesson for 2008 of course goes to the old favorite, "family responsibilities". Discovering a new role as I came home was a wake up call on how far I've journeyed through life.<br /><br />To the end of 2008, I was greeted with with an excellent new job, a boost of confidence, new colorful people to call friends, and warm seasoned ones. Not forgetting, a wonderful encounter . So I'm spiteful at some things, and grateful for others. No regrets I guess, happy to come out smiling.<br /><br />What will 2009 bring? Good times or bad? I'm pretty sure a mixture of both. I do enjoy dwelling in pessimism, but I can't help to think that 2009 will be a better 2008. So, I allow myself a bit of idealistic optimism.<br /><br />Resolutions? Nothings specific I guess. I'll keep on doing what I'm doing and hopefully do it with more effort and enthusiasm. Of course I'll be keeping an eye on my health and continue to remind myself that the number 30 is right around the corner.<br /><br />That's it chumps. All the best for this year. Hello 2009!<br /><br />Blogging off....Frictionhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00952543548176467720noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6461890.post-9271606990599671832008-12-12T16:01:00.013+09:002010-02-19T01:32:09.262+09:00Bila Besar Nanti Nak Jadik Apa?<div>Call me old, but I have this bad habit of asking the same questions when I first interact with children. I like to call it adult-to-kid-small-talk. The questions usually range from the basic "<span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6">Nama</span></span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7">apa</span></span>?", "<span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8">Umur</span></span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9">berapa</span></span>?" to the slightly deeper "<span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_10"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_10">Sekarang</span></span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_11"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_11">belajar</span></span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_12"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_12">darjah</span></span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_13"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_13">berapa</span></span>?". Recently however, I've started to add a few sophisticated questions in to my repertoire of adult-to-kid-small-talk. One of them being the infamous "<span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_14"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_14">Bila</span></span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_15"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_15">besar</span></span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_16"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_16">nanti</span></span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_17"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_17">nak</span></span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_18"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_18">jadik</span></span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_19"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_19">apa</span></span>?".</div><div><br /></div><div>A few months ago I had the opportunity to join a Charity Club to a visit to a special school for blind children in <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_20"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_20">JB</span></span>. The school which doubled as a dormitory housed probably around 60 students from <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_21"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_21">pre</span></span>-<span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_22"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_22">schoolers</span></span> to high school students. The program lasted for 2 days and around 40 students from <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_23"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_23">UTM</span></span> were there to entertain and motivate the children.</div><div><br /></div><div>During my period there, I was amazed at how these children behaved despite their <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_24">disability</span>. I would hold my breath <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_25">every time</span> I saw students run along the narrow corridors, expecting them to bump in to something or fall when they instead <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_26">maneuvered</span> skillfully around poles and skipped <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_27">across</span> stairs as though they could see with each confident step. I was equally amazed on how cheerful the students were, how their condition did nothing to pull them back from enjoying life and the experiences that came hand in hand with them. I guess these are the benefits of being children. </div><div><br /></div><div>Unfortunately though, I am cursed as an adult. I was left pondering and wondering about the <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_28">children's</span> future. <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_29">Every time</span> I looked at their cheerful faces, I couldn't help but wonder the adversities they might and would probably face. Excuse my <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_30">pessimism</span>, but what idealistic future could sustain these special children? A future that would allow them the same opportunities every other children has and provide them with success equaled to their efforts. I realized with a bad taste in mouth, that the world was far from being ideal. And I <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_31">wasn't</span> the only one. I could see a number of the facilitators break, their heads bowed slightly, hiding the tears filling up in their eyes.<br /></div><div><br /></div><div>The program ended with smiles and laughter of course. A few teary outbursts <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_24">occurred</span> due to the <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_32">separation</span> but was quickly dried up by the anticipation of promises to yet again meet. Hugs and shakes were exchanged with a mixture of both love and respect from both sides. I would like to believe that we somehow made an impact <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_33">even though</span> slight on these children's <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_35">lives</span>. Wishful thinking perhaps, but one can hope.<br /></div><div><br /></div><div>I wish the best for these children and hope that their futures hold a much more easier path than the one my hampered realistic mind could <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_36"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_25">limitly</span></span> imagine. Call me weak, but I just didn't have the strength to ask them, "<span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_37"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_26">Bila</span></span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_38"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_27">besar</span></span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_39"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_28">nanti</span></span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_40"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_29">nak</span></span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_41"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_30">jadik</span></span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_42"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_31">apa</span></span>?".</div><div><br /></div><div>Blogging off.... </div>Frictionhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00952543548176467720noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6461890.post-57185740181340456672008-12-09T14:18:00.014+09:002010-02-19T01:33:25.803+09:00Pak DaudRecently I've been trying to routinely have breakfast every morning. Like they say, breakfast is the most important meal of the day. However, I'm not graced with breakfast at the house table every morning, so I take the alternative and stop by a local Malay restaurant for my usual <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2">roti</span></span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3">telur</span></span> and <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4">teh</span></span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5">tarik</span></span>.<br /><br />While eating, my thoughts drifted (thoughts tend to drift when you're eating alone) on my childhood visits to <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6">Pak</span></span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7">Daud</span></span>, known for his delicious <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8">roti</span></span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9">canai</span></span>. Or that is how I remember it to be. Those were the times when <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_10"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_10">mamaks</span></span> didn't dot the entire geographical landscape. It was small shop close to school, where some kids with spare school money would go to hang out and get their <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_11"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_11">roti</span></span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_12"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_12">canai</span></span> fix. I was one of them. You couldn't really call me a regular since the meager allowance provided by my generous father <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_13">didn't</span> really allow frequent visits. However, the few visits I had were very pleasant and the memories of how good a simple <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_14"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_13">roti</span></span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_15"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_14">canai</span></span> could be kinda got cemented in my memory. Until now, I haven't had the opportunity to taste a <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_17"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_15">roti</span></span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_18"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_16">canai</span></span> to even rival <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_19"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_17">Pak</span></span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_20"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_18">Daud's</span></span>, but again, probably I did but the whole experience of saving up for <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_21"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_19">roti</span></span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_22"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_20">canai</span></span> in those days probably made me appreciate those particular visits even more. At that age, it was like a rare peek in to adulthood. Eating at a restaurant of your choice (my parents have never been there) and paying for your own food made me feel like a miniature adult.<br /><br />These days kids probably prefer and are able to afford stuff like <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_23"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_21">mcDonalds</span></span> and try to avoid eating <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_24"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_22">roti</span></span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_25"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_23">canai</span></span> with their precious allowance. Times have changed I guess, and will continue to do so. I continue munching on my <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_26"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_24">roti</span></span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_27"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_25">telur</span></span>, losing my appetite half way through. Pushing it aside, I started to proceed to the counter to pay for my food when I found myself wondering, "what ever happened to <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_28"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_26">Pak</span></span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_29"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_27">Daud</span></span>?".<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjQjc6npcLkE_UqRJqtmOwLRQrQwU0xfqroOH_t7d-SgeIolkXF83BfpBf8TFuVaGftuIo3uFoO7zyF_N0dxPN_OG04ui1HTuf40C-ROx_tOy68TuKsxNh-11OMiYiQqAa-zSbt1w/s1600-h/roti-canai.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjQjc6npcLkE_UqRJqtmOwLRQrQwU0xfqroOH_t7d-SgeIolkXF83BfpBf8TFuVaGftuIo3uFoO7zyF_N0dxPN_OG04ui1HTuf40C-ROx_tOy68TuKsxNh-11OMiYiQqAa-zSbt1w/s200/roti-canai.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5277665470116097410" border="0" /></a><br />Blogging off....Frictionhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00952543548176467720noreply@blogger.com10tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6461890.post-83261699008711055022008-12-07T23:04:00.006+09:002010-02-19T01:21:13.008+09:00Raya Adha WishesHappy Raya for those celebrating it. Hopefully you'll be either along side family or friends with enough food stuffed in you to last for weeks.<br /><br />--Blogging off....Frictionhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00952543548176467720noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6461890.post-34276474941544948612008-12-05T11:47:00.004+09:002010-02-19T01:21:33.401+09:00Spoon Boy<b>Spoon boy</b>: Do not try and bend the spoon. That's impossible. Instead... only try to realize the truth.<br /><b>Neo</b>: What truth?<br /><b>Spoon boy</b>: There is no spoon.<br /><b>Neo</b>: There is no spoon?<br /><b>Spoon boy</b>: Then you'll see, that it is not the spoon that bends, it is only yourself.<br /><br />Never thought Spoon boy could be so enlightening... Can't wait to meet Fork girl.<br /><br />Blogging off....Frictionhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00952543548176467720noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6461890.post-5236023939913153842008-12-03T18:54:00.012+09:002010-02-19T01:34:11.234+09:00Cat Conversations (or I would like to think so...)I enjoy talking to my cat. My dad thinks I'm crazy, but Comel does respond when I talk to her. While most would deem her responses as generic mixtures of different meow tones, the timing of her responses are amazingly accurate. So, I'd like to believe in my head that she does try her best to communicate. An example of our conversation this morning.<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Me :</span> Comel, I'm going off OK.<br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Comel:</span> Meow. (I'm a Huuungrryy.)<br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Me : </span><span>But </span>you just finished a whole tin of tuna!<br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Comel:</span> Meeow... (Well, I'm a growing cat...)<br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Me : </span>You know the Dr. told you to watch your diet.<br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Comel: </span>Meowrrr! (The Dr. can go and suck my paw!)<br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Me :</span> I'm going to work. Chew on the rug if you're hungry.<br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Comel: </span>Meurghh. (Whatevaaaa ugly man.)<br /><br />She's cute like that.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiyCPfvVdFHEvjmUQJSBYD-yQxulv1jy09Pxy42dEf-L7F7pGXeBfJ1OKuvBeel4kaiiY_Jj7wJKYo_BNHgeKjIg96-rOM94blj1fA_kTRZNLF-lqJBZ-vN29YY-cci40Ve37qXhw/s1600-h/n638724245_797248_5336.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiyCPfvVdFHEvjmUQJSBYD-yQxulv1jy09Pxy42dEf-L7F7pGXeBfJ1OKuvBeel4kaiiY_Jj7wJKYo_BNHgeKjIg96-rOM94blj1fA_kTRZNLF-lqJBZ-vN29YY-cci40Ve37qXhw/s320/n638724245_797248_5336.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5275509167313558834" border="0" /></a><br />-- Blogging off...Frictionhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00952543548176467720noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6461890.post-75182774315988023642008-12-02T11:51:00.012+09:002010-09-28T10:59:02.008+09:00Warm SocksYou know what kinda sucks in the morning. Not being able to find a clean pair of socks. I was tempted again not to wear socks to work but thought otherwise, since words like discomfort, odor and foot disease kept nudging me in the head.<br />
<br />
Out of options and desperate, I did the ultimate taboo and gathered the courage to rummage through my fathers wardrobe cabinet. Usually I wouldn't have the balls to do so, my father being very picky about people disturbing his stuff and all. But since he was away with my mom honeymooning at some distant land, he probably wouldn't even notice (Hell would ensue if he did of course).<br />
<br />
Finding a pair of comfy Grey ones, I put them on and was hit with the realization that I haven't worn any of my father's clothes since my days in primary school. I remember every time he'd be off out-stationed, I'd go and rummage through his clothes looking for something to wear. Don't really know why, but I kinda enjoyed the feeling of his big clothes over me, the ends dragging on the floor when I walked around. The fabric felt comfortable and had my father's familiar scent, and was probably why I liked it so much. It wasn't long before my brother would do the same, and we'd end up being a pair of legless torsos skimming across our house parquet floor.<br />
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A warm fuzzy feeling enveloped me and made me realized how much we kinda missed our father when he was away. Probing further in to the memory, hoping to rekindle something more, a sudden chill jolted me. I suddenly recalled that my father didn't appreciate the idea of his favorite clothes being dirty, stretched and torn when he got back. The aftermath was usually not pretty. Feeling a lump in my throat, I swallowed and reminded myself to wash and put the socks back nicely as they were before he comes back.<br />
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-- Blogging off....Frictionhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00952543548176467720noreply@blogger.com9tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6461890.post-53791663570892402172008-11-28T18:14:00.006+09:002010-02-19T01:35:11.833+09:00Rin', Mesmerizing ShakuhachiRin is a musical group that I came across when looking for modern hybrids of traditional Japanese folk music. The music they produce aren't a lot, but they compensate with extremely enjoyable to listen tracks. The Shakuhachi is a traditional Japanese flute which is very prominent in Rin''s music.<br /><br />Here is one they are most known for: <a href="http://www.imeem.com/ibuki89/music/QyEhumfo/rin_sakura_sakura_instrumental_with_shakuhachi_and_shamise/">Sakura S</a><a href="http://www.imeem.com/ibuki89/music/QyEhumfo/rin_sakura_sakura_instrumental_with_shakuhachi_and_shamise/">akura</a><br />Go ahead have a listen.<br /><br />I suggest you listen while sipping a cup of hot green tea. Good for those stressful moments at work. <span style="font-weight: bold;"><br /></span><br />If you want to know more about the group here is a <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Rin%27">wiki</a> about them in detail.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/commons/5/5f/Rin%27_logo.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 178px; height: 178px;" src="http://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/commons/5/5f/Rin%27_logo.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a>--Blogging off...Frictionhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00952543548176467720noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6461890.post-4979646652260865132008-11-26T10:59:00.008+09:002010-09-28T11:34:47.730+09:00Kicked the sand castleWell, I finally did it. Deleted my <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">friendster</span></span> account. Since making my move to <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">facebook</span></span> it didn't really make sense to have two different web apps spilling the beans on my life. Call me paranoid, but I try to keep my personal presence and information minimal on the web. Ever try putting your full name in google and seeing what pops out? You should, it'll give an idea how exposed you are on the web.<br />
<br />
I've been using <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2">friendster</span></span> since 2002 and so it makes the profile around 6 years old. I will definitely miss the extremely slow servers, incoming spam, clunky interface and constant <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3">down times</span> that <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3">friendster</span> adequately provided. Did I have any doubts before pressing the "cancel your account" button? Sure, a bit. Just hit by a pang of nostalgia by the people <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5">I've</span> been able to stay connected with because of it. Which quickly <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6">dissipated</span> upon realization that they are other much more effective alternatives to stay in touch, such as the good <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4">ol</span></span>' phone call or the ever so <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8">convenient</span> e-mail... and there is <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5">facebook</span></span>. <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_10"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6">Haha</span></span>...<br />
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Doesn't it bother you that having a personal profile on <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_11">the</span> web has somehow turned in to a required necessity? Oh well, here we go again.<br />
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Blogging off....Frictionhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00952543548176467720noreply@blogger.com6