While we're at it..

I do have a few more things to write.

If you go through the this blog's history, and believe me I'm not trying to lure you to click on every title for the sake of pageviews, you will notice I never wrote a post in BM. There are some Malay words or phrases every now and then, but never a complete post in my mother tongue. Why's that? Have I lupa daratan? Have I been too deep in the anatomy of the Western culture that I can't find the heart to speak of Bahasa Malaysia?

Maybe. I do watch a lot English-language TV series and I only write in English on Facebook or Twitter because I want to seem superior and intelligent especially when trying to win an argument.

So I think I'm gonna write some posts in BM next time, but I gotta think of a good topic. I don't want to prostitute this beautiful language to curses and foul words. Maybe write a poem? Ha ha ha. 

ps : just knew I could put in smileys.

pss : what's that? Spongebob?

Back from the dead

I just don't know how to untangle the thoughts in my head and put them all into my fingers.

A month after my motorbike incident, the wounds have fully recovered. God only knows how much I wanted to peel off the scabs on my elbows and right knee and when I was pretty sure the wounds had at least dried, I did so with an indescribable satisfaction. I even lined up the scabs on the computer desk and gleamed at those filth like shining diamonds that they were. Disgusting, yeah. For everyone else.

However, the pain in my right knee is still coming on and off. I don't know what is the real problem and unless it's too painful, I may never go the clinic and get it checked out. That's ok, it's not that I can't walk or anything. The only thing disturbing me is the timing of the pain come visiting. It can be when I stand, when I just get up or when I sleep, which is why it annoys.

--

Our class WhatsApp group has been abuzz again these past few weeks, with a few more guys added to the club. A huge distraction to my work with all the funny stuff cropping up every minute especially those involving memories from school when we were stupid and innocent and skinny. The other day, someone posted pictures from our farewell dinner and boy was I shocked. I was so lean. Save the trademark chubby cheeks, I was essentially skins and bones! If you ever see my current physique, you'll know why it's funny, as the boys found out hence making me the butt of the jokes for a whole day.

--

It's end-2014 and blogging is still a pain in the rear for iPad users. How come, Google? The last blogger app was a break but you can do much, much better. I don't want to go on blabbering with the details but Google as a supposedly tech God should know better. I need a decent Blogger iPad app because I prefer to write from the iPad since it's more private and discrete. My computer desk is in the living room - it's a shared house - so people can see whatever the stuff I'm doing on my laptop. So far, I've not whiffed a single hint of this blog's existence to anyone I know, and I would like for it to stay that way, for reasons. It doesn't help if someone walks in the living room and sneaks upon me typing on the Blogger scratchpad. Not only I'd have to kill the the poor sneaking fella, I'd also need to rename the blogspot to something else and I'm not gonna have some more sleepless nights thinking of a 'hip' name.

--

Just in case I'm not back by the 31st, Happy New Year!

--

Siap satu entry.

Tragedi Oktober

I had a motorcycle accident on Thursday.

Friday was my birthday so I thought of going to KFC or Secret Recipe around the neighbourhood. It was going to be a short trip to and fro so I didn't tell anyone about me going out.

The first roundabout from our house was exactly after a quite steep road but that alone doesn't make it a dangerous spot. It's the small stones and layers of sand residue from the construction site beside it. So here I was, on my bike doing around 40kmph in a residential area like I always do and just when I was making my way out of the roundabout my tyres rolled over the small stones and the sand, losing me of my control and quickly threw me and the bike off balance.

I fell on my right side. There was no pain at first but when I lifted my hands I realised they were bleeding. My left hand bled the most. Then my right foot started to sting and exactly when I looked at it, I tore my jeans around the knee and I could see the abrasion wounds on it and my right toes.

For some minutes I was lying in agony on the tar and I was thinking that should no one pass by and offer help, I'd just try to restart my motorcycle and took myself home to get help from my housemates.

Luckily there was a group of men nearby hanging out and they saw me and my motorcycle lying on the road. They were the ones who came to help me sit on the pavement and checked my motorcycle for any damage - fortunately apart from some scratches and kinks, my motorcycle was fine and one of the gentlemen took it for a ride and declared it was rideable. Some minutes later, a housemate who was on his way to find food passed by and helped me ride to a nearby clinic - because he also rode on a motorcycle, the most he could do was clear the road for me from the incident area to the clinic.

I got an MC for two days. God only knows how painful it was the first night. The doctor who cleaned out my wounds prescribed me with antibiotics and painkillers. I think I took about 3 painkillers that night alone. I couldn't sleep. I could only doze off at around 5am.

At around 12pm I woke up. I turned on my phone and besides a few happy birthday messages I was shocked to receive a Whatsapp message from a colleague informing an accident befalling another colleague. His was apparently far more serious. He was hit by a car at a junction and his head hit the windscreen. Hours later a few more updates came in. He was detained in ICU and the doctor found out his brain was swollen and that he has been put in induced comma, for God knows how long.

I pray that he comes back to good health because he is a nice man and a nice friend.

Can't Get You Out Of My Mind - Hal David/John Cacavas

I heard this song somewhere and tried to find the lyrics on the net and while a lot of lyrics of songs with the same title came out, none on this classic gem did. The same thing happened when I searched on YouTube. What a shame.

Luckily Spotify has this song in collection. Amazon and iTunes also have this song available for purchase.

Regardless of the lack of attention it gets, this song certainly fares highly in my Spotify library.


Here are the lyrics, which I had to do on my own. Note that some parts of the lyrics may be incorrect, and I stand corrected.

Can't Get You Out Of My Mind - Hal David/John Cacavas

I go to work every morning
Lately it seems like a grind
When I'm without you
I think about you
Can't get you out of my mind

Sometimes I go to a movie
All by myself to unwind
It gets so lonely
Wanting you only
Can't get you out of my mind

If you ever went away
I don't think that I'd survive
It's just when we come together
That I seem to come alive

I got a perfect solution
Hope that it won't be declined
Let's stay together
Now and forever
Can't get you out of my mind

I go to work every morning
Lately it seems like a grind
When I'm without you
I think about you
Can't get you out of my mind

Sometimes I go to a movie
All by myself to unwind
It gets so lonely
Watching you only
Can't get you out of my mind

If you ever went away
I don't think that I'd survive
It's just when we come together
That I seem to come alive

I got a perfect solution
Hope that it won't be declined
Let's stay together
Now and forever
Can't get you out of my mind

Let's stay together
Now and forever
Can't get you out of my mind

Hal David passed away in 2012. John Cacavas passed away earlier this year. RIP.

Laters!

Dear (imaginary) readers,

I have a lot to talk and write about. Some personal, some political, some just trivial opinions I hope somebody would give a number two about.

Unfortunately, I'm quite stricken with time this week. I'm perceiving pressure and it's not good at all and I'm trying to get out of this insecurity and anxiety bubble.

Plus, Unifi is being such a bitch, who you give a lot of money to but in the end still be a pain in your ass with her bad attitude and selfishness. I learnt just now that there's an undersea cable break in the Pacific and this is the second time in a fortnight but I don't think that's the cause, rather than just lousy sevice, for the continuous and seamless (word!) disruption of connection since last month.

Therefore, I'm postponing to write until time is on my side and Unifi learns to be a good bitch, which I hope is soon.

Til then,
Junid F. Kentucky.

Not yet sorry

The laundry bag is full, with shirts soaked in sweat from my running exercises, on top of the shirts and trousers I wore to class. Below them are my boxers.

My logbook is such a mess, the sheets are all scattered in a box that I like to think as a sign that I have everything in place, the only thing missing is organisation and execution.

I have an exam on Tuesday, haven't opened the 900-page thick book, haven't learnt a single thing.

All that in the clear knowledge that I'm far behind everyone else and that if I continue the way I am now, I will finish studies long after everyone else does.

Yet, I spent the past two days only watching movies and sleeping,and some hours going to KL to buy a watch. And now, I'm staying up late at 2 am just to do a blog post.

I'm really screwed up, right?

For the heck of it

I picked up a new hobby recently. Running. Yes, I know what running is. I know it isn't a food, and I'm not saying something I know nothing about.

During Raya, when we gathered for drinks (teh o ais,actually), someone sparked the topic of going to the gym. A friend actually had been going the gym for quite some time already and he could be proud that he was slimmer and in better shape than he was in school. Then of course it transpired into bantering and I became the butt of the jokes several times due to my acquisition of several kilos of 'evenly shaped muscles' since we left school. It rudely shocked me when they said A who was considered the fat guy in 2009, and I thought still the bulkiest among us, was in the same league of me nowadays.

So I started running 2 weeks ago. I googled up training for beginners and found the 8-week training program at runnersworld.com, which taught me interval running. I started straight at a 2 minutes run and 1 minute walk, repeated 10 times. To time the runs, I used my analog QnQ, due to its light weight and accuracy of quartz. Well, you don't expect me to use my SNK or Mako right? They're both automatic and quite bulky and may induce discomfort during running.

The problem is as I get further in the program, I have to run for more minutes. Currently, I'm at 5+1. Using the analog QnQ isn't as practical as it was when I was doing 2+1. Many times I become confused on the actual time logged because I measure time by marking the times the second hand hit 12 o'clock.

Obviously I need a proper watch. It has to be a digital watch, comes equipped with chronograph functions, light, durable, and most importantly, as cheap as my 3-day meal budget. When thinking of cheap, durable and digital, the only brand that came across my mind was Casio. But Casio has an array of watches in the cheap subcategory alone. You can find dozens of watches between the prices of RM30 to RM50, which is a relief to your budget but a huge burden to your decision-making process.

Suddenly, I remembered the Casio terrorist watch, which is so popular among not only ordinary people but also watch enthusiasts, hipsters and even Al-Qaeda. Despite its notorious links to terrorism, the humble Casio has won raves and praise from even the most critical watch community.

A bit of googling and I found out that Casio F91 is still in production and found an online store that sells it at RM29. I checked and it has a physical store at Jalan Raja Laut.

Long story short, I knew what I wanted and this morning I headed to Jalan Raja Laut. LRT wasn't packed today. A delivery to the doorstep would cost an additional RM7 but I'd rather go the store myself and spend that money on LRT, at least I got a reason to not be holed up in the house and be such an unproductive sloth.

At RM29, with chronograph and alarm functions,durability and long battery life, plus a terrorist/hipster appeal, I couldn't ask more. It just functions, and I'm glad it does. Along with the QnQ, SNK and Mako, this one would have a fair wrist time. Maybe on Fridays, alternated with the Mako.

Wait a minute. Have I caught the watch bug??

UniFi..

..sucks.

Since a few weeks...

..back, the network has..

..been so madly slow.

What the hell are..

..we paying hundreds of..

..RM for every month?

My home WiFi..

..is on the 5MB package.

..but it feels like..

..5bit/hour.

This is..

..what I'm experiencing..

..every day..

..especially on YouTube. It's..

..one clogged tube..

..stricken with buffers.

So I thought..

..I should let you know..

..how a fxxxing slow..

..connection makes you fe...el.

CEO of TM,..

..maybe you should take..

..cue from the MRT CEO.

Machines Warehouse Sale

This morning someone posted on Twitter that Machines was having a warehouse sale at The Space, Citta Mall. I thought The Space is a fancy term for an open area at the mall, turned out it's a room. Planning to get an original casing for my iPad, on the cheap, of course because I am so stingy and has spent so much money on too many useless stuff.

Machines provided members of Machines+ (some kind of loyalty program) the privilege by giving them exclusive entry to the sale from 11pm to 2pm. I don't know how was the crowd but I think it could be quite huge. The sale was only open for the general public after that.

So after the Jumaat prayers, I sped straight away to Citta Mall which was only around 5 mins from the masjid by motorcycle.

Arrived at Citta Mall, parked my motorcycle by the road, with hopes that it wouldn't be knocked over by a passing car, and took the escalator to the upper floor. Honestly I just followed the flow. I was seeing people in droves taking the escalator to the first floor, so I just followed them, they took a right, I followed them, until they suddenly stopped at the middle of the hallway. In the front was a loooong queue. I couldn't even see the other end of the line. That was at 2:12 pm. Apparently people were already lining up perhaps since 11pm although they weren't Machines+ members.

This was at 2:44 pm. The crowd was already receding since the people coming out saying that all the devices were already sold out, so many in the line had a change of heart.

Then the staff started shouting to the people in the queue line that all devices but iPods were sold out, so more people abandoned their hopes of buying cheap iPhones and iPads and Macs, although they were ex-demo and refurb models.

At this point, I engaged in a serious thought process. Fall back or go forward? The line is still so long, and I just want to buy an RM20 iPad case. Is it worth the hassle? Eventually the better side of me prevailed. I should just stick to the line. I've spent almost half an hour standing and sweating, why not wait a little longer maybe, and get what I want. Rather than leave empty-handed and waste 30 mins I would never get back.

Not so long after but equal to eons in "queue years", the staff announced that the devices were all sold out. None left. Not even the useless, ugly iPod nanos. Only accessories were left. Some more people left the line and I got a few feet forward. Luckily.

At 3:20pm, I finally managed to get in The Space. Machines didn't lie. Many accessories were on sale cheap. I tried to get an original 30-pin connector, but there was none either original from Apple or OEM. Eventually I just grabbed a Dash Pro iPad case and proceeded to the counter.

Haih, we Malaysians and our obsession with promos.

Maju dan sejahtera

This is the anthem that we used to sing at the top of our lungs as pupils every morning, except Thursdays. Thursdays were for house assemblies and we sang our respective house anthems instead of 'Maju dan Sejahtera' and the school anthem.

We came to like the song very quickly when we first came to the school. A lot of us were from outside KL, and a huge portion were from outside Klang Valley. Sure we love our state anthems more but when it came to Lagu Wilayah, a lot of us agreed it was the best anthem we ever sang.

I don't know horse dung about music but singing this sent chills down my spine, especially during the  last two lines. In harmony with my schoolmates, it rose our spirits and infused into us a sense of belonging toward the Federal Territory in the process.

Of course, like many good things, it's only a matter of time before someone came in and ruined it. In 2011, the minister in charge of federal territories decided to replace the anthem with a boring rhythm that somehow sounds quite like the Singapore national anthem. 

Hear the song below that defies the concept of improvement. Compare with its predecessor.

And here's Singapore national anthem. Sounds a bit familiar? 

Instagram

An easy way to tell people that you have a smartphone is by having an Instagram account.

In the old days, which were only a few years back, before it was bought by Facebook, and even longer before it enabled video posting, Instagram was an  app exclusive to iPhone. And since iPhone itself was for the richer among us, Instagram was really an online gallery (or boutique) of expensive, deluxe, and sometimes rare items. Because the stuff they take pictures of are already nice-looking, these rich brats rarely get their Insta photos wrong. Plus, when you have the top-notch Apple camera to snap photos, unless you think that comical fonts and colorful frames are cool, then your Instagram photos would always look nice.

Then, Instagram was made available for Android, and because Android phones range from the cheap generic China brands to the flagship Galaxies, Instagram started to look more like some mall. Now cheap fake phones with shabby and low quality cameras can be used to take photos for Instagram, as long as they run Android.

To fit the previous analogy, the shiny stuff are still there, but there are also department store goods that sit in smudgy glass racks or cabinets, that if given proper care, may look as good as the high-end products. I'm talking about filters here and why some people think excessive use of them, or lack of em, makes your pictures look any less ugly which only the #visitmyig spammers would like, apart from their friends.

I use a Windows Phone. It's a cheap Lumia 720. The camera is lousy, no matter what the reviews say. The colours are not true, not as easy to use as iPhone or Android, and the colour temperature is awry. It only has Instagram since some time back, and the app is not even in full version. It's still stuck in beta which means no instavideos, no direct access to camera, and no tilt adjust.

And although it has camera360, the WinPhone Store hasn't had VSCOcam yet. Which makes Instagramming photos a kind of ordeal to me.

When I take a nice photo and want to share it via Instagram, I have to edit it first because the camera will 99% of the time get the colours wrong, like having a yellow patina on your skin or bluish green leaves of a tree. And because VSCOcam is absent on WinPhone, I have to email the photos to my iPad, on mobile data, because unifi WiFi has issues with WinPhone. It's free basic internet by the way, the package that I'm using. Not stingy but simply poor to subscribe to plans, which is why I use a Lumia in the first place.

After tinkering with the photo, then only can I post it to Instagram, only to attract several likes and comments. And some must be of the #visitmyig kind. One helluva job. That's why I am not really an active user, with little following and few followers.

Bottom line, Instagram?
Not my cup of tea.

Natang Israel

In Trengganuspeak there are several ways to say that someone has died. The standard way is ningga (meninggal), which is originally a part of the phrase 'meninggal dunia', means 'leaving (meninggal) the world (dunia)'.

But the most common in Trengganuspeak is abih omor (habis umur) which translates to 'running out (habis) of age (umur)'.

Example :
A : C takdok doh, abih omor mareng di spital besor.
(C has left us, he died yesterday at the general hospital)
B : Sungguh? Innalillah. Baru minggu lepah ambe jupe ppasor.
(Are you serious? Innalillah. I met him only last week at the market)

Then there are also several crude ways to announce the death of people you hate. Whose deaths were anticipated and celebrated. One is mapuh kerah (mampus keras). Means cold dead. Another is bahang tanoh (dibaham tanah), literally 'beaten by the soil'. In this context, since bahang is also a Trengganu word for makang (eat), then it may refer to the condition of the corpse rotting away, 'eaten out' by the soil where billions of organisms feeding on flesh exist.

Another rude way is cecoh cok (cecah cangkul) - hitting the hoe. Probably since when you die, you will be buried and one of the tools to dig your final resting place is a hoe. How is it that the deceased might hit it, however, is something I can't be sure of. Maybe because when the gravediggers start to fill the hole back to cover the body, the hoes somehow touch it because to level the landfill, the hoes are stamped on the soil.

Example :

A : Mu tengok dok tv malang, ye kata Ariel Sharon mapuh doh?
(Did you watch the news, said Ariel Sharon has died?)
B : Hoh dekat sepuluh tahun doh koma, nok cecoh cok pun rohok, dosa parok ngat tu.
(Oh after almost a decade in comma, finally dead, that's the worldly torment as a retribution for his atrocious sins).

Orient Mako Black

Last year when I got Seiko SNK809, I was so attracted towards Seiko automatic watches and planned to get another in the form of SKX007, a diver's so famous it created almost a cult among affordable watch collectors. Unfortunately a student living in Malaysia can't really say the SKX an affordable choice, especially for a boy coming from a working class family.

In fact, in this part of the world, brands like Seiko, Citizen, and Alba do not always belong to the cheap or affordable category rather they fall under the premium class. Therefore don't be surprised to find fake Seikos and Citizens being rampantly sold in the market. They're there because there are buyers.

What more, most people still don't get to distinguish the watch manufacturer brands with fashion brands. Many people I know would rather buy an RM300 Crocodile watch (an actually homegrown fashion brand) than a Seiko 5. The only brand that deserves the hype in my opinion is Casio, especially the Edifice line. Even then, many people would still buy a knock-off watch that may cost up to half the price of the original.

Ok, back to the topic.

I eventually bought Orient Mako instead of the SKX. The reason is actually quite simple and maybe premature in anyone's opinion, the Orient Mako was sold almost 44% off the original price. Considering many shops like to put inflated price tags on their goods, its actual price may be somewhat cheaper anyway.

However, in my case, the shop was shutting down. According to the aged lady owner, she decided to retire and conclude the 40-yr old business so everything in the stock must be cleared even at the slightest of profit.

The reason I was there in the first place was to finally acquire SKX007, which I have surveyed a few months back. Unfortunately like all the other diver's, the 007 had also been sold. I thought of looking at other places, until I saw another diver-style watch in the Orient section. True enough, it was the Black Mako.

After an extensive perusal on the watch, which was just looking at it up close, the urge shifted. Now that I had it in hand, the Mako looked as good as the 007 although it fell short of being a true diver's like the Bond.

It was only a matter of time when I asked the seller about the price. Managed to haggle for RM20 lower, which she obliged to give after a bit of reluctance and that was it, I was a few hundreds poorer.

In the box.

On my wrist.

Lume compared to my Seiko SNK809.

Overall I'm just satisfied, especially since it has the moderate rugged look of a diver's, although it is not an ISO-rated diver's. Next watch, that elusive G-Shock Riseman.

Raya over

After 8 days of supposed Raya holiday at home, I'm reluctantly leaving for Subang today.

Promised to meet a classmate and carpool with his Viva straight to Subang. Since our hometowns are in different parts of Trengganu, me in KT and him in Kuala Brang, we just agreed to meet at Mydin Mall in KT.

Luckily there is a 23hr mamak stall at Mydin. I'm saying that in a partial shock and amusement because I don't think Trengganu ever had a 23hr mamak before this one opened. Even if there was a mamak food stall, we never called it a mamak place, instead using the restaurant's name for reference. Noorul Iman, for example at Jalan Kamaruddin, was a mamak place whose Roti Ppayang (naan bread in standard malayspeak) was the best in town. And it wasn't open beyond 12 hours.

Anyway, the teh tarik is decent. Not too sweet but creamy. Actually teh tarik is a permanent fixture anytime I dine at mamak. In fact I make it a mission to find the finest teh tarik almost everywhere I go. I still can't figure out where is the best but the least fine is Syed Kelana Jaya.

This year's Raya

Raya this year is the dullest ever. I hate long road trips during Raya because they're both tiring and boring so don't wonder why I am a so grumpy guest.

Luckily yesterday, the third day of Raya, my friends and I managed to get together. All are my fellow state buddies from the school days, and our bond was formed on the homecoming 500km bus trips from the school to Terengganu during school holidays.

To me, the essence of Raya is reconnecting with the people that once brought joy to our lives. And these people don't have to be family or relatives but most often in my instances, true friends. That's me being honest.

Buka Puasa with the MB

We managed to book a place for the breaking fast ceremony with the Menteri Besar organised by the state govt and PESAT. Event was held at Dewan Merdeka PWTC, perhaps the most recognisable hall in Malaysia thanks to the annual UMNO Grand Assembly which takes place perennially here. I don't think anyone can mistake the signature ceiling, below which UMNO reps meet every year.

The event was started by the speech from the President of PESAT Dato' Ir. Wan Husin whose point about equal treatment for the Trengganuers not living in the state I agree completely. Plus, I personally think that the state's wealth has been leaking to 'outsiders'. Take, for example, the state scholarships. The requirements are quite loose, even someone who isn't born in the state to non-Trengganu parents qualify, provided they have lived in Trengganu for a period of time. A robbery I say, given many true children of the state actually deserve the assistance.

The MB, newly minted, then took the stage. YAB Dato' Razif serves my constituency, which I acknowledged to him when he made his rounds meeting the attendees pre-event. 

The MB approached,

"Orang Bberang Takir ni Dato',"

"Ohh, kapung ane mung?"

"Pok Tijoh,"

Nods, "Pok Tijoh spetir rendang,"

"Hoo"

My political view aside, this guy looks nice.

The MB started his speech by acknowledging the attendance of the VIPs, who are of course born and bred as anok Tranungs. Quite a lengthy list which includes the CEO of TNB Dato' Ir. Azman, RTD Director-General Dato' Sri Ismail Ahmad, Media Prima's Dato' Manja Ismail and a few other DGs and MDs and CEOs I don't recall.

I also learnt from the MB's speech that Capt Norudin Abd Majid, famous for his 'revealing' comments on MH370 is also from Trengganu.  

The later part of the speech was quite boring, although the MB talked also about the recent double tragedies, using both cases to make his point about being more responsible in dispersing info especially in social media. That is important, as he noted, as the current political climate in Trengganu right now, as he said and I quote, is "paham-paham saje lah,". Cue Ahmad Said's short vendetta against the PM. The MB also failed to address the PESAT President's speech. 

The speech ended only a few minutes before buka puasa. I spent the next hour trying out all the foods from the stall before heading home.

Write-offs

With the loss of 9M-MRD in the MH17 incident, both my Boeing 777 aircraft models have lost their respective 1:1 originals.

In the picture (clockwise from top left):

1. 9M-MRO (B777-2H6) - delivered 31/5/2002, missing when flying MH370 on 8/3/2014, declared lost in Indian Ocean on 24/3/2014.

2. 9M-MRD (B777-2H6) - delivered 29/7/1997, shot down over Eastern Ukraine when flying MH17 on 17/7/2014.

3. 9M-MBA (B737-2H6) - delivered 1/1/1975, sold to Great Atlantic Airlines on 1/10/1991.

4. 9M-MMM (B737-4H6) - delivered 8/1/1993, sold to Shaheen Air on 22/10/2012.

5. 9M-MXA (B737-8H6) - delivered 29/10/2010, in service.

This is an old picture, these models were among the first I bought.

Sayonara Heliconia

The most heartbreaking moment when the news started developing on MH17 was when I saw the picture of the severed vertical stabiliser of 9M-MRD. It was most telling of the whole incident. The formerly gleaming MAS logo on the tail that separated from the fuselage. It invoked my deepest grief as it confirmed my most distanced fear. We've lost another plane while we are still in disbelief over the very recent loss of MH370.

What is happening to us? What is happening to Malaysia Airlines?

I never thought that I would live to see an MAS aircraft involved in a major occurrence. And it happened, not once, but twice, over a short period of time.

Is this a sign to Malaysia or Malaysia Airlines?

Remeet

Last Sunday I ran an errand that had been long overdue. My ASUS laptop which I bought in January failed to turn on, since about a month ago. A few weeks before I noticed that the laptop screen didn't come on almost everyday, but turning it off with the power button and then turning it on again would do the trick and I could use the laptop normally. That I learned from Roy Treneman of IT Crowd, "Have you tried turning it off and on again?"

I brought the laptop to the ASUS' service centre at the top floor of Lowyat Plaza. After almost an hour waiting for my turn the desk staff finally managed to check out my laptop. I told him the problem and he tried to use his adapter to power the laptop and to my surprise, the mangkuk hayun came alive. The staff then told me that even if the problem persisted afterwards, I should only come back after a few weeks because the problem, he said, was likely the screen, and the stock for screens weren't available until later. I told him that the drives didn't also run when the problem happened, and he said it could be the motherboard then, but maintained the suggestion.

I made two mistakes there. First, I should've asked him to turn the laptop off and on again and see if it would power on and if didn't, leave it for repair straight away.

Second, even if there was no stock, I should have left the laptop there and just wait until they fix it and call to pick it up. Would've saved me 2 trips.

Thus, I had to go the service centre again last Sunday, about a month later. I woke up late that morning and the tiredness from yesterday's 6-hr drive from Trengganu hadn't really got off the system but screw it, I couldn't stay in bed anyway in this hot, humid weather.

Anyway as much as I thought it was a miscalculation on my part I must admit that maybe that was just God and his mysterious ways. By a happy coincidence, I bumped across two very old friends from Sekolah Ibrahim Fikri (SIF)*, where I did my lower form. One was my classmate and another was a senior fellow prefect.

The classmate and I were stuck together from Form 1, we were close and belonged to this clique of several boys who made up the class' top performance quotient (ehem ehem) which was why we were offered to better places after PMR. I was offered to ASiS, others made it to several SBPs, MRSMs and some were content with staying. And unfortunately and weirdly given our formerly strong bond, we failed to reconnect over the years.

As the delightful encounter revealed more to be talked about, we brought the chatter to a nearby mapley. I planned to take them to Noorul Iman but since we were all in a sense of urgency, we settled down for the mapley just in front of the Imbi exit. Indeed, we had much to catch up. They came to KL together, invited by a mutual friend. I could only relieve when none of them hasn't tied the knot yet, I would be gutted if I wasn't invited.

Later on we excused ourselves to get our businesses done. It was a very fortunate event. Catching up and lepaking are the two things I love to do. What more if my partners decided to foot the bill. :)

*Sekolah Ibrahim Fikri was the name used in the old days, until today the school is better known by its acronym SIF although 'Sekolah' is replaced by the generic prefix SMK. SMKIF sounds dull anyway right?

Rantyards.

You know the lanyards with company logos printed on them? The ones like AirAsia and Firefly sell in-flight? They're stupid.

They're big, colorful, and have logos printed all over, which is ridiculous since you pay for them. You know what do you pay for? Nope, not practicality and effectiveness in preventing losing your name cards.

You pay for advertising. Now that's why they are stupid. The companies make you pay a good amount of money for a fancy, colorful, oversized lanyards and you feel cool and 'hip' wearing them. But your gaining stops there. The profits from sale, the company get (in huge margins too, I believe). Then the company gets free advertising from mobile billboards (that is you).

So why the hell do we pay for this kind of lanyards then? The companies should be giving them for free to us, in fact, they should pay us on a monthly basis for advertising.

Don't give me that crap that this is a practice among big companies too, like GE and Airbus, and given their established global images, they don't even need advertising anymore. It's purely trying to sell stuff for a dollar's profit. First, I don't think advertising is limited to only SMEs or startup companies, I believe even big companies need advertising to promote themselves, gives people a sense of familiarity with their brands which is a part of public relations I think. Second, sometimes big companies don't sell lanyards, instead some opportunists just use their logos to sell you one of those unlicensed merchandises. But still, the companies gain free advertising from use of their logos.

You know what else grinds my gears? Daytime running lights, but that's for another time.

DIYing

Due to its simplicity and easiness, I decided to change the engine oil of my motorcycle myself. I have tried to do it a few months back but the mechanic who did the previous change tightened the bolt a bit too much. The spanner I used was bent trying to turn the bolt but it wouldn't budge a bit! In the end I had to go the workshop to get it done.

This time I tried to do it myself again and luckily it was not too tight. Not much effort was given. The bolt just spun out, just the way it should.

Using the spanner I bought at Tesco. It was cheap, but I didn't think it would bend before my arm could break. Or maybe I am too strong. ha ha

Quite rusty, not unusual for an 8-year old motorcycle.

I'm a fan of recycling. Keep Earth green. Seriously.

Then I checked the used oil for any debris. In jet engines, there's a component called MCD (Metal chip detector) fitted in the lubrication line to catch any metal residue that can be from deteriorating parts, which may portend a failure. That principle was at work here, only that I had to rely on visual inspection.
The used oil was then poured into the new oil bottle. It can't be disposed like any other trash, there's an environmental regulation for that. That's OK since it can be used for several purposes too, like lubricating the motorcycle chain.

That's it. Next time I want to try to change the filters myself. A good way to practice engineering at home besides the workplace.

The next DIY I did was installing a cyclometer for my bicycle. As you may have noticed now, I'm quite a guy who fancies himself as a true rider. Commuting? Motorcycle. Exercising? Bicycle. I am looking for a unicycle for home use so that I can ride straight away after waking up in the morning. If not for the company rules restricting me from riding at the workplace I may use the unicycle at work too. ha ha taking the joke a bit too far.

Has anyone done that, tho? Riding from bedroom to toilet to living and dining rooms? That may not be too hard as long as the house is a single storey house unless one decides to ride all the time, including when he's defecating. Now that's something I would love to see someone mad enough does.

Anyways, I chose CatEye Velo 7 because, well that's the only choice I've got. I've read everywhere and CatEye is like the monopolist of cyclometers. It just got down to which model to buy but that's also a no-brainer, since my budget is strictly kept low due to my novelty to the sport (my bike is a cheap Lerun after all, which is the reason why I haven't got off-road yet despite the bike being categorised as an MTB).

 

The package. I forgot to take a pic pre-installation. RM79 was the actual price but the shop discounted it to RM55. It's a bike shop in Trengganu not far from my home. 

All the insides taken out and spread on the floor. The manual was easy but I still had to watch a couple YouTube vids and read a few advices on Yahoo Answers. Setting the tyre size was a bit tricky.

A tool-free installation. Quick-ties only.

Set. I just used nail clippers to cut the unused lengths of the quick-ties.

It's quite satisfying to DIY. I always like to do things myself but I usually don't have the tools and not ready to invest due to other commitments, namely good foods.

So close yet no cigar

Oh man, we were so close to the title.

Liverpool even beat Man City the other day. We were the only team that had advantage over City, a full 3 points. Then entered Chelsea. I wasn't optimistic to be honest about the game, I didn't even feel like watching it so I slept early.

A draw would be fine,we could bank on that and continue with wins over the last 2 games. Still, it slipped. We were even forced to draw with Crystal Palace.

Liverpool were not supposed to finish in the top 3, everyone was saying the target was a Champions League spot, and the players overachieved. So much so finishing second is so disappointing.

As a fan though, I would have exploded if Liverpool did win the title. I never know how it feels to win the EPL, and it may be an even harder dream to achieve next season. Our biggest consolation is of course finishing above Man Utd. Those arrogant knobs are still buzzing about how Liverpool missing the title while they themselves are out of Europe.

Although honestly, I think they will be back next season, they didn't screw around after falling down, quickly looking for the best manager to guide them back on to the track.

Whatever happens, always and forever, YNWA.

Between two legs

I've always been interested in cycling. As a young boy, bicycle was my main mode of transport between home, school, friends' houses, and playing spots. Mind we didn't enjoy or make full use of playgrounds back then. Those are for little girls. Real boys ride, run and sometimes swim.

I recall one day, we were riding adventurously to the beach, or at least that was the plan. Somehow we chose to go down a trekkish path instead of cycling on the clear road straight to the beach. We steered into the jungle behind KUSTEM (now UMT), fatiguely paddled through the sand for at least a km I think until we met a swamp separating us from the path across. Instead of turning back and defied the adventurous nature in us, we decided to cross the swamp.

What we were too young to understand was the 'swamp' was actually a waste pool. The water was dark grey, smelled pungent, and I think was as dense as a cup of kopi kaw-kaw you can order at the mamak's. Luckily it was only knee-deep. Stepping into it, I could feel the sludgy soil as we were bare footed. When walking on soft soil, flip flops may get stuck as we step deep into earth. I lost a few pair of slippers when walking along the muddy river bank at my mother's hometown. 

We managed to get through the swamp but the smell stuck. We reached the beach, enjoyed the view, washed our legs, again and again, before we realised it was late noon and we haven't had out lunch, dispersed to ride home.

The smell stuck for a few days. I also found my legs to start itching, which was clearly the effect of the sunny dip in the pool of waste. Few weeks later I got the trophy to show myself as a true kampung boy, in the form of scars of various sizes on my legs.

Anyways back to the topic, the first proper bike I got was a purple GTH. It was clearly a knock-off of BMX. I really loved that bike, rode it every evening. Then my father replaced it with a bicycle given by the ADUN's office as a part of its community service. The GTH was given to my cousin, which irked me since it was in a good condition and the fact that I gave away something good for something of less quality. The bicycle given by the ADUN was of a brand I can't remember, yellow, and uglier. It was like a girl's bike.

My next bicycle was a grey Montana. It was the first big bicycle I had. Father bought me that out of a sudden at RM280. It was also the first bicycle that I had that was fitted with a gearing system. That was the bicycle that I used to commute between places. By that time I was already old enough to ride on my own to places more than 2km (ha ha) away from home. Indeed, the farthest place I cycled to was Padang Nanas, which was about 7 km from home.

The Montana was never given maintenance. When I started secondary school, the bike was not used often anymore since my father drove me to and from school. I also received another bicycle from the ADUN, this time as a gift for my UPSR results. It was a Montona. Although it was an imitation of Montana, it was pretty decent. It rode good. No gears so it was easier to ride. When I got into boarding school, both bicycles were abandoned. The Montana was then given, again to my cousin.

The Montona, though is less fortunate. It is completely abandoned and is already reduced to scrap metal, laid behind our house, just outside of my bedroom. It is a sad sight, I must admit. Rust all over the body, save the alloy rims. I just don't know what to do with it. My father may soon throw it away, like he always does to old things. However, I still have an emotional attachment to it. It was a gift to recognise my success. I wouldn't throw it away myself but if I come home one day and see it's gone, I won't be sad. 

Whatever it is, my fondness to cycling hasn't faded.

This afternoon, I took delivery of my Lerun Evo 20. I bought it at the warehouse sale few weeks back but they could only do the free delivery today. 

Tested it just now. Since it's been long since I last rode a bike I couldn't really say much about the handling except that it just feels alright. An apparent resentment tho is the saddle. It's too small and too hard. A replacement due soon.

Since my part time work is over, it may be good to have a hobby, especially one that can help me exercise and cut down my waist size.

The Trengganu Look

This afternoon I had another go at the practical assessment. This time with another assessor. I once helped him take some pictures of a logbook's pages, some kind of scanning, but using a compact camera instead of an actual scanner.

Of course, when I entered his cubicle, he saw me as someone new to him. Yet another trainee, he might think. I've learnt that the assessors at the training school have a habit of giving some time for the trainees they assess to tell of their backgrounds. A secretive and reserved I am, I always tell only three things, my full name, my parents' names, and where I'm from. The assessors would have to ask more, like what do my parents do, where did I go to school, my siblings, my SPM results and whatnot. I would then give straight-cut answers, in a low voice as to subtly imply that I do not like to be asked of my private life.

Anyways, this assessor, who has a prefix 'Wan' in his name then said that I don't sound like someone who hails from Kuala Trengganu, borne and raised by Trengganu parents. He said I am more like someone from Johor, or Selangor. I said to him that in fact, I am an anak jati, and the false impression may be caused by the absent Trengganu slang in my conversations, which is always the case anytime I talk to orang luar.

It wasn't the first time someone is surprised to learn of my Trengganu origin. Back in school, a teacher said the same thing to me. Cikgu Zairos was filling in his History class period but really he wasn't into teaching that day because it was already past mid-term and the school used to have an extreme approach to finishing the syllabus, usually the whole textbook was done by May or June. The rest of the year would be spent on rigorous exercises and tests.

After a test, Cikgu Zairos had some chats with all of us. When it came to me, he asked of my background, and I said Trengganu, which surprised him. He actually didn't believe me and I had to say it twice. He said I don't look like a Trengganu kid. At that time I was baffled, like I was again today. How does a Trengganu boy look like?

Are we commonly seen as good-looking so my (insert insult) face doesn't qualify as being Trengganu-ish? Or are we better known to be brash so my neat appearance betrays the stereotype? I really don't know. It can't be the slang omission alone.

By the way, after the assessment, I cross-questioned the assessor. I asked him the same thing he asked me before, where does he come from? Take a guess, he said.

Well, he is a Wan, a common name in Pantai Timur, not from Trengganu or else he could've told me his hometown when I told mine, and doesn't speak a tinge of Kelantanese, in fact very good at using standard Bahasa in conversing, so I guessed he is from Perak. He said no. Next possibility, Kedah, but he shook his head. So I was left with Pahang and Mersing, both of which are not, too. Finally I said Kelantan, initially ruled out, and he said yes. I pulled the same thing on him, "Well, you don't look like a Kelantanese, sir". And he said, "Yeah, that's why I said almost the same thing to you".

All right,..

"9M-MRO dalam kenangan, Lautan Hindi jadi kuburan,"

Angel

I was on the flight from JB to KL last night. I arrived at Senai Airport from Singapore after my overnight stay at the city. There should be a dedicated post for that but this post shall precede for my feelings must be let known.

I met a girl.

Not the prettiest I've ever seen nor was she the sexiest. In fact to go strictly by figure, she may have fared quite far off from the yardstick, which in others' books, means she isn't someone suitable for a magazine cover.

To put it yet simpler, she is just an ordinary girl.

Nothing special about her but her calm, collected, soothing and beautiful look on the face I so wanted to see even closer and longer if not for the decency I had to observe. Although, I often peeked when she wasn't looking throughout the flight. The act that I'm not sure was reciprocated.

But here's the thing. We didn't even talk. We didn't learn each other's name. And that is the only thing I so regret now.

So there goes an angel. Like a star engulfed in the dark skies of anonymity. The star that twinkled so gracefully though not brightly.

1380/08

Today marks the sixth year since I set foot in ASiS. I remember that day way too vividly that it never leaves my cranial cavity for even a single day.

That day Abah, Mak and I took a neighbour's airport cab to catch the flight. It was Firefly on an F50 so I can brag of having flown on the now obsolete Fokker. Abah was the one who insisted to go to KL by air although buying air tickets only a month before the flight would cost some money. Knowing Abah he would trade the tiredness and fatigue of long drives with anything he can afford ha ha.

The full version of the story shall be told later, (much much much later, I guess ha ha) so cut short, I remember when I walked to the lobby in front of Dewan Besar, with the huge logo just opposite the lobby. It was an eclectic mix of happiness, fear, sadness, pride, and humility that stroke me. I couldn't talk much. Abah did a lot of the talking. I just followed. At that lobby we were handed a yellow parchment on which stated three things if I recall correctly, and not orderly:

No. Dobi : 1380/08

Kelas : 4 B

Rumah : Bendahara

Dorm : 2A2

I remember also that the prefect who ushered me then to complete the registration in the Dewan Besar. His name was Amzar, nice guy. The kind of guy who was nice in front of the juniors' parents because that really who he was. I later learnt that he was the son of the PIBG's Chairman. His father once invited us over for a Raya do at their home in USJ if I am not mistaken. Us here were only the boys from Terengganu, Kedah, Kelantan etc who didn't go home on the weekend after Raya break.

I always like an overnight weekend because most of us would go home save the Pantai Timur boys like yours truly and some from the northern states. Less pupils meant better food and most of the times, more in quantity. Also, we could take a break from the 'tuck-in' and 'jemaah prayers' rules which meant kain pelikat and waking up late were the 'in' things for the weekend.

Ha ha 6 years later and I still haven't really left ASiS.

5-1

I can think of no better thing than this to happen to Liverpool after that mediocre result against West Brom last week.

Honestly I didn't think that Skrtel is any good to us anymore looking at his recent form. Then he denied that in the best way possible, two signature headers straight past Sxzcexzczxzvny into the net.

If we didn't get those 3 goals later, I don't think we could hold up tho. Liverpool are known to concede even after leading, and we're not known for comebacks.

So yeah though, 5-1. It felt like Gerrard intentionally fouled Wilshere to give the away team some consolation thru a penalty that resulted in the solitary goal by Arsenal. Ha ha

Feels so good. What a way to finish and start a week.

#YNWA

There and back again

Last Thursday I was alone on the first floor of our rent house. All the housemates took the opportunity of the CNY break to balik kampung and spend the long weekend with their families. I did not, for a few reasons.

First of all, I didn't plan to return to Terengganu in February after my last trip home in January.

Even if I was to go home it would be by air. No way I would buy a bus ticket and spend more than 9 hours sitting on my butt while being trapped in a traffic jam at Karak. Worse, most of the time I had to hold my pee in for hours until the bus finally reached the old and rotten Putra Terminal. I think if I go through that for maybe a couple times more I would soon find stones in my kidney. Buying air tickets in this time of the year means I'd have to sell a kidney.

After all I have planned my trips home for this year and my next flight home is on 14 March. With mess in my finance department I don't want to spend much on things of less priority. Then there's that trip to Singapore to see the airshow. Heck, I haven't even booked a hotel room. I can't spend all my money at once here. There are still 10 months to the year so swallowing all in one bite would mark an impending disaster.

Hence I stayed back. I did have company though, a friend who came over because his housemates also all went home but he recently had an accident and suffered some pains in his legs so he couldn't go out. Thus I had to be his runner, like buying food for him. 

So when I was about to swing into a slumber suddenly a loud bang shook the room, and that was the first of many. I wouldn't lie, I almost soiled myself. Not because I was scared but because I was dead shocked.

Going on for a few minutes, my half-awake self felt so annoyed. I took the pillows, banged them on the floor (I was pissed off my sleep was disturbed), and then took them downstairs on the couch where I slept for the whole night, since the noise of the firecrackers exploding in the sky was a bit muffled at ground floor.

Seriously engaging pyrotechnics in a terrace neighbourhood isn't something figured out of common sense. No racial issue here. Last time during Hari Raya some smart s's burnt the firecrackers of the same magnitude at our house street too. We were playing badminton and one of the firecrackers rocketed towards the court and exploded just feet above us who were running away like scared cats. That was perhaps the closest we got to Gaza or Fallujah.

Moving on to the next topic. I learnt this afternoon that Philip Seymour Hoffman had died at age 46. He reportedly OD'ed. I'm quite sad. He was actually one of my favourite actors. I liked him the most as that DJ in The Boat That Rocked. That movie rocks. He really excelled in bringing that character to life, like he was a star DJ himself. Seriously Mr. Hoffman was that good in my opinion, and it should be noted that I've only watched like 4 of the films he had a role in. I read some tributes and messages for the late Mr. Hoffman and some fans are angry and mad at him because he knew where addiction would bring him to yet he succumbed to it, causing him to leave us prematurely, taking along his great talent that we still haven't had enough with. So long Philip Seymour Hoffman.