Why I live alone...

A lot of people raised eyebrows when I told them I live all by myself, in a quite costly house, away from the society. The faces they made are usually followed by statements such as;

"Oh it must be so boring being you..."

"Really? You must have that much free time..."

"Awwww... Are you sure you want to live alone?"

"I know some places you can rent along with some singles..."

"Wow... you must be bored after work and weekends..."

Okay, I thank thee for being so caring and sympathetic but really, honestly... I don't need it. Alone is where I can do whatever i want, whenever I want and however I want. It's not that I don't have a choice, trust me I have been bombarded with pamphlets of "single white female" adds. I just chose to ignore them and live alone. Because I WANT TO.

In college I suffered 3 years of living in a house of 7 people. Yes. 7 people means 7 different opinions even on the smallest matter. And of course I was ambitious, seeking for straight A's to maintain my JPA scholarship. (In my days below 3.5cgpa means no scholarship). So basically I tell people who wanted to be in an assignment group with me to do things the way I like it. Yeah, of course I was naive and young and say whatever that was in my head. I used to spend hundreds on studies stuff and sometimes I expected my friends to do the same.

But they were not quite from a rich background. And I guess my expectations and demands were "offensive" to many.

Thus began the isolation. A house of 7 people and I felt more alone than I could ever be. No friends. And they picked on the smallest things I don't do such as sweep the floor, wash the dishes, pluck weeds.. etc..etc.. I mean seriously you see 6 people doing those already and you think, why the hell do they need me to do those things when I'm working my butt off doing assignments for 7 people?!
(When it comes to assignments I'm miss perfect and I disapprove of their standards)

The cruelest things mean girls do is talk behind your back to people OUTSIDE their clique. And making those outsiders think of you their way. I mean, really, you hate someone, why not just tell it to their faces? Of course, they prefer laughing and giggling and making sure your life is hell. I was an outcast in my own house. And I think I learned enough lesson from that.

I had my share of living with the society. And after going through paid hell... I think I'm better off by myself. I can buy whatever I want, decorate my house however I want and wake up whenever I want.

The only person I wish to share a house is with my husband coz it's like the law or something. If he stinks, or messy I won't hesitate to kick him out for sure.

I live alone. I am extremely happy about it.

My Struggle With Malaysian Internet - PART 1

Ok so we are indeed not even close to being one of the TOP 10 countries with high speed internet. We are not even in the top 20, despite being known to be ASIAN and "developing".

I'm sure this picture makes you want to live in South Korea... But what I'm saying is not only do Malaysia's internet bears the lowest speed it could possibly get... but the number of BLOCKED websites are also a menace... Don't get me started on "QUOTA".

It's annoying really to have limited choices. Yeah thank God for Broadbands you can carry your modem anywhere without having to look for pugs and sockets and cables. Also, thank you Starbucks for the free wi-fi. And thank you to fiber-based internet for rich people. (Looking bad at poor old dial-up net).

What bothers me the most is that the government wants everything to be done "ONLINE". From banking to shopping to facebooking to e-Learning and so on and so on... And this makes people who can't have easy access to internet a bit "kampung". And people that do have access, charged to their death for every volume of internet they use.

QUOTA is RIDICULOUS. It was back in 2008 (I think, too lazy for research) when our PM decided to make everyone pay for each byte of internet. I mean, what happened to charging by good old internet speed?! This means you are limited to 5GB of internet per month for RM98.00 and should you want more, you gotta "PURCHASE" the data volume. While people who uses internet only for boring e-mailings and stuff don't give a f- what they are being limited to, people like us who uses internet for EVERYTHING else, suffer. 

Okay if that's not enough, how about BLOCKING some websites? Especially when they see certain websites has too many hits. You can block all the porn that you want, but it only leads to people Torrenting (is that even a word?) them and spreading em around in Hard drives. Some even selling em for money coz well, its marketable due to those restrictions. So yeah, kinda pointless. And okay fine, religious.. political debates are the reason for that and I don't have much against it but blocking ACCESS TO FILE SHARING?! Really?! You are that desperate to keep your people's minds inside a cage??? "Because we can't afford to allow piracy." Would be your excuse. Dude, do you see any Hollywood actors and stars and producers living under bridges? No. They live in mansions in Beverly Hills because they don't freaking care who downloads their movies or music from Torrent.com. 

That leads to a smaller scope. Government institutions. I love my job, yeah. And I love the idea they planted in our head that everything has to be "e". From e-mails to e-FRPs to e-Learning and e-Filing... the list goes on. And I love how those "e"'s make my life easier. And they also gave us courses to "be more creative" in teaching, make videos and animations for your students. I love how I am allowed to be creative and hell yeah I am excited about it...

What I am NOT excited is when I log on my computer using my OFFICE net and wanting to log on YOUTUBE to download motivational videos for my students, this popped up.

Okay so they blocked YOUTUBE. I'll download it using my sad 5GB limited broadband I pay for with my sad salary. I'll just get some music for my video background -

REALLY? MP3 Skull - BLOCKED. 4Shared - BLOCKED. etc etc...

Ok so bye bye videomaking. I decided to do some trolling with the internet. So they found out about the "https" thing and also blocked FACEBOOK. There goes social life. I typed the word "GAME" in google and LOLed at the fact that any website with the word "GAME" is blocked. So is "ENTERTAINMENT", "HOLLYWOOD" and a few malay words I can't remember. So basically all I have to live at work is plain empty google.com having no idea what to search for.

I don't know for how long we are going to live with not only the SLOWEST internet in the world, but also the most EXPENSIVE and most LIMITED access to anything. While people around the world are enjoying World of Warcraft without "lags"  here we are working in front of a government desk trying to pay for our personal internet to use for official work only to receive SMSs from phone companies saying "You have reached your quota limit. Please give us money to continue surfing".

A little Inspiration... The Teacher

Stories like this, always have a way of putting the right perspective on life.


Jean Thompson stood in front of her fifth-grade class on the very first day of school in the fall and told the children a lie. Like most teachers, she looked at her pupils and said that she loved them all the same, that she would treat them all alike. And that was impossible because there in front of her, slumped in his seat on the third row, was a little boy named Teddy Stoddard.

Mrs. Thompson had watched Teddy the year before and noticed he didn't play well with the other children, that his clothes were unkept and that he constantly needed a bath. And Teddy was unpleasant.

It got to the point during the first few months that she would actually take delight in marking his papers with a broad red pen, making bold X's and then marking the F at the top of the paper biggest of all. Because Teddy was a sullen little boy, no one else seemed to enjoy him, either.


At the school where Mrs. Thompson taught, she was required to review each child's records and put Teddy's off until last. When she opened his file, she was in for a surprise. His first-grade teacher wrote, "Teddy is a bright, inquisitive child with a ready laugh." "He does his work neatly and has good manners...he is a joy to be around."

His second-grade teacher wrote, "Teddy is an excellent student well-liked by his classmates, but he is troubled because his mother has a terminal illness and life at home must be a struggle."

His third-grade teacher wrote, "Teddy continues to work hard but his mother's death has been hard on him. He tries to do his best but his father doesn't show much interest and his home life will soon affect him if some steps aren't taken."

Teddy's fourth-grade teacher wrote, "Teddy is withdrawn and doesn't show much interest in school. He doesn't have many friends and sometimes sleeps in class. He is tardy and could become a problem."

By now Mrs. Thompson realized the problem, but Christmas was coming fast. It was all she could do, with the school play and all, until the day before the holidays began and she was suddenly forced to focus on Teddy Stoddard.

Her children brought her presents, all in beautiful ribbon and bright paper, except for Teddy's, which was clumsily wrapped in the heavy, brown paper of a scissored grocery bag. Mrs. Thompson took pains to open it in the middle of the other presents.

Some of the children started to laugh when she found a rhinestone bracelet with some of the stones missing, and a bottle that was one-quarter full of cologne. She stifled the children's laughter when she exclaimed how pretty the bracelet was, putting it on, and dabbing some of the perfume behind the other wrist. 


 Teddy Stoddard stayed behind just long enough to say, "Mrs. Thompson, today you smelled just like my mom used to."

After the children left she cried for at least an hour. On that very day, she quit teaching reading, writing, and speaking. Instead, she began to teach children. Jean Thompson paid particular attention to one they all called "Teddy."



As she worked with him, his mind seemed to come alive. The more she encouraged him, the faster he responded. On days where there would be an important test, Mrs. Thompson would remember that cologne. By the end of the year he had become one of the smartest children in the class and...well, he had also become the "pet" of the teacher who had once vowed to love all of her children exactly the same.

A year later she found a note under her door, from Teddy, telling her that of all the teachers he'd had in elementary school, she was his favorite. Six years went by before she got another note from Teddy.

He then wrote that he had finished high school, third in his class, and she was still his favorite teacher of all time.

Four years after that, she got another letter, saying that while things had been tough at times, he'd stayed in school, had stuck with it, and would graduate from college with the highest of honors. He assured Mrs. Thompson she was still his favorite teacher.

Then four more years passed and yet another letter came. This time he explained that after he got his bachelor's degree, he decided to go a little further. The letter explained that she was still his favorite teacher, but that now his name was a little longer. The letter was signed, Theodore F. Stoddard, M.D.
The story doesn't end there. You see, there was yet another letter that Spring. Teddy said he'd met this girl and was to be married. He explained that his father had died a couple of years ago and he was wondering...well, if Mrs. Thompson might agree to sit in the pew usually reserved for the mother of the groom. And guess what, she wore that bracelet, the one with several rhinestones missing. And I bet on that special day, Jean Thompson smelled just like...well, just like the way Teddy remembered his mother smelling on their last Christmas together.



THE MORAL: You never can tell what type of impact you may make on another's life by your actions or lack of action. Consider this fact in your venture thru life.

How NOT to ABUSE work e-mail...

Many employees (government servants especially)  seem to use the free workmail provided to them  as a way to fight with each other or their bosses. They seem to forget the etiquette of formal e-mail writing and end up offending others. Work etiquettes are not taught in school, hence it is learned through weeks, months or even years of experience. But sometimes, as employees evolve to seniority, they tend to forget their manners in writing e-mails to bosses or colleagues and end up (intentionally or not) offending people.

Remember, everything linked to internet is permanent. Once you post that hate mail, there is no turning back.

Here are some rules to use workmail respectfully:

1. Re-look, re-read your e-mail again and again before pressing that SEND button. Correct typos and replace casual words with formals especially writing to higher ranking colleagues.

2. Check if you want to "REPLY TO ALL" or not. You don't want your desk neighbourhood clique gossip to reach everyone in the institute.

3. Keep e-mails short. You don't need a 300 word introduction to "...there's a meeting tomorrow."

4. Write CLEAR and PERFECT subject lines.

5. Don't forward hoaxes. Keep your political lies in Facebook or your personal blogs.

6. Let people know their e-mail has been received. Yes all you need to say is "thanks, i will take action ASAP." Don't leave em hanging and wondering if you read their mails. (Of course everyone loves the "oh sorry I didn't receive your e-mail" excuse).

7.  ONE subject per e-mail. Seriously!

8. Read your e-mail as the receiving end, see if they could be offended. Do NOT write an e-mail when you are stressed or angry. You will regret it.

9. DO NOT respond to provocations. People will bring up some hot offensive issues from time to time. Even if it bugs you, never respond.

10. Keep your class. Only use e-mail for work issues. Funny stuff belongs to facebook.

Those are the basics...! Have fun working and stuff...!

Poetry : To The One I Never Had

Writer's Block sucks... However, my brain managed to squeeze out some ideas.
A humorous approach to one sided crush. Nothing cheesy.

Remember you said I was too costly?
Well, of course you couldn't afford me
Second rate is your only target
I guess your taste is based on budget...

Goodbye now, and also good luck
From now on I do not give a F-
I'm off to be with he who loves me
Enjoy your Mrs Fat and Chubby...!!!

Read whole poem here.

A little inspiration... The Boy With a Temper...

A long time ago there was a boy. He was smart, talented and handsome. However, he was very selfish and his temper was so difficult, that nobody wanted to be friends with him. Often he got angry and said various hurtful things to people around him.

The boy‘s parents very concerned about his bad temper. They considered what they could do and one day the father had an idea. He called his son and gave him a hammer and a bag of nails. The father said: „Every time you get angry, take a nail and drive into that old fence as hard as you can.“



The fence was very tough and the hammer was heavy, nevertheless the boy was so furious that during the very first day he has driven 37 nails.

Day after day, week after week, the number of nails was gradually decreasing. After some time, the boy started to understand that holding his temper is easier that driving nails into the fence.

One day the boy didn‘t need hammer and nails anymore as he learned to hold his temper perfectly. So he came to his father and told about his achievement. „Now every time, when you hold your temper all day long, pull out one nail“.

Much time has passed. At last the boy could be proud of himself as all the nails were gone. When he came to his father and told about this, he offered to come and take a careful look at the fence. „You did a good job, my son, though pay your attention to the holes that left from the nails. The fence will never be the same. The same happens when your say hurtful things to people, as your words leave scars in their hearts like those holes in the fence. Remember, we need to treat everyone with love and respect, because it doesn‘t matter, that you say you are sorry, the scars will not dissapear.

Here it comes...

It's final exams week.. Here comes the last minute assignments, tests, quizes... etc...