Monday, 23 June 2008


"...Ni takde bar code ke?"


"Maaf, takde bar code tak leh beli."

whose fault was it that the bar code wasn't on the hangers anyway? ish.
betul-betul beban penjual dipindahkan ke atas pengguna.
*misquoting economics*

Thursday, 19 June 2008

routes to UM

I know you guys are wondering why I bother looking at it since I'm going to get lost anyway.

campus map

Again, unnecessary nosiness.

Oh yeah, the last one is probably relevant:

music every morning? aaah.

Wednesday, 18 June 2008

The Day Really Came

For those who haven't checked and are clueless as to how it is to be done, this is the website to go to. It hangs sometimes, as do most of the government websites and works best in the morning. After you've gotten your IPTA results, don't forget to click on the URL SURAT TAWARAN link because you still have to confirm if you're accepting the offer or not.

i squealed

I will study very, very hard this time. Yeah, will ignore people who label me as kiasu. I'll get the last laugh.

why people try to go to a public university

Just to abolish some people's thoughts (some only).

That is, that people who go to public universities are...

Academically incapable,



Or stupid.

And this is also why people rayu and don't switch to private straightaway.

And this is to help motivate people who are dying in Form 6.

Or think that it isn't worth it.

It is.

Work for it.

Don't waste those two years of your life deciding between working hard and letting go.

i'll be gone by 29 june.

Sunday, 15 June 2008

He Who Has Been Raised

Then, six days before the Passover, Jesus came to Bethany, where Lazarus was who had been dead, whom He had raised from the dead. There they made Him a supper; and Martha served, but Lazarus was one of those who sat at the table with Him. Then Mary took a pound of very costly oil of spikenard, anointed the feet of Jesus, and wiped His feet with her hair. And the house was filled with the fragrance of the oil.

John 12:1-3

In the previous chapter, Lazarus had been ill. Heeding the plea of Lazarus' sisters, Mary and Martha, Jesus headed to Bethany to heal Lazarus, but only after he had been dead 3 days. Jesus healed Lazarus nonetheless, raising him from the dead.

Jesus returned to Bethany some time later, and a supper was made in His honour. I'm sure the villagers must still have been rejoicing from the incident, and the joy of it all must not have been merely at the great miracle, but at the sight of a friend they thought they'd lost forever.

Jesus instituted the Lord's Supper, commanding us, as often as we meet, to do it in remembrance of Him.

As with Lazarus, all of us have been raised from the dead by our Lord Jesus Christ. It should be with as much joy, then, with which we meet for the Lord's Supper every Sunday. And all the more should we come bringing Him the best that we can bring, as did Mary the sister of Lazarus.

Kah Wei, Morning Worship, Sunday, 15 June 2008

...And a bit on what Uncle Anthony Too (not Three? yeah, stop that. heard a lot of times d.) said last Sunday:

Women, don't think that you can't worship. Worshiping in silence is hard. And sometimes the men are worshiping in silence, and the women are crying out from their hearts to worship.

Men, listen to the silence of the women in worship.

Women, listen to the men in worship.

...And let us say "Amen" together.

May the Lord be pleased with our worship.

"Every other day of the week, we can jump, sing, clap and play loud music all we want. But this one hour in the entire week, if we can come together and say, 'This one hour is all about Jesus Christ. This one hour, I am going to make Jesus Christ feel good.'... This is brethren worship."

Philip Lim, Morning Ministry, Sunday, 15 June 2008

Thursday, 12 June 2008

The widgets that are supposed to appear on the blogs

[Blogs = mine and MGC's]

I did the one on the left with BlogRolling, where the blogs that have been updated within 48 hours will have an **updated** indication beside them. Within 48 hours means the **updated** indication will last till 48 hours from the latest update on the blogs.

So... click the cross! (and stop staring at the toilet roll)

The one on the right is the widget that keeps disappearing from the blog. In the MGC blog, I inserted the widget with the title "MGC-ians Make Noise", but I left it title-less in this blog. So the comments are supposed to appear in the sidebar, but they don't for some reason, and nobody knows because nobody knows there's supposed to be a widget there anyway. Ish!

And this?

This is the theme sis downloaded for my phone.

Girlish, I know. But...



Tuesday, 10 June 2008

Why do I have to be the one to bring Ken to the hairdresser's? *grumble grumble*

Shot past the saloon and had to make a turn back.

Ish. The place is surrounded by malay boys. And I'm wearing shorts. Short shorts.

Drove home to change

Finally. Now I have to talk to a stranger.

Public: When you're lawyering next time, you have to talk to lots of people.

Yeah, well. Just because I have to do it doesn't mean I like it.

Enter saloon with a sleepy little brother.

*survey survey* Yellow room with a slow-spinning fan, a round guy sitting on the bench (shoot. now i have to find someplace else to sit), and finally, the barber who speaks Chinese.

Great. Now I have to stutter (no, not "utter") Chinese to a stranger.

The barber sat Ken on one of those high stools, and I stood around, waiting for the moment when the barber would ask me if Ken wanted his sideburns shaved or stuff like that. Heard the round guy say something, but thought he was talking to the barber, so didn't bother.

"He's blind. He's talking to you." said Thomas the Barber, after awhile.


Good thing I learned the Chinese word for "blind" in Chinese class. I took a good look at him for the first time since I entered the saloon.

Then he started to talk. And not just the self-absorbed kind of talk I expected. He asked me about my family, my university application status, the type of car I drive, my ambition... and all sorts of things. I was ashamed to note that he was more aware of current issues and circumstances than I was. He also knew about the stock market and the political situation of the country. He told me to consider being a politician to help the Chinese in the country. He asked me why I wanted to be a lawyer. And I couldn't answer him.

I can spurt beautiful explanations and words in English. But I didn't know how to explain my ambition in a single Chinese sentence.

He couldn't see me, but he called out to me to make a new friend.

I can see, and yet I shun strangers and new relationships.

I was ashamed. I am ashamed.

But God has chosen the foolish things of the world to put to shame the wise, and God has chosen the weak things of the world to put to shame the things which are mighty;

1 Corinthians 1:27

I didn't even ask his name.

Saturday, 7 June 2008

Patience. Kindness. Goodness.

Patience in the absence of the irritating.

Kindness in the absence of the unkind.

Goodness in the absence of the undeserving.



No, I'm not going to beg your pardon.

I've got to learn.

Got to accept.

Ah, well.

Thursday, 5 June 2008

You know that essay I wanted to put up?

Peter was the boy next door. He was eleven years old, strong and jolly, and always laughing. Ann liked him very much.

Ann was ten, but was small for her age. People thought she was eight. She was shy and timid, and she was so afraid of being scolded for anything, that she never owned up when she was in the wrong.

She sat on the wall and watched Peter shooting arrows at a target. "Come and have a try!" said Peter; so she slid down and took the big bow.

"Oh dear -- it's so big. It won't spring back and hurt me, will it?"

"Aren't you a little coward!" said Peter, laughing. "Of course it won't. Look -- do it like this."

It was fun playing with Peter. They took turns at shooting arrows at the target; and then suddenly Ann shot one that went right over the wall! There was a loud miaow and the next-door cat leapt high in the air. The arrow had hit it!

"Oh! Poor thing!" said Peter, and he was over the wall in a flash. But the cat, full of terror, ran away limping. Peter knew he couldn't catch it. He went back over the wall.

"We'd better go round and knock at Miss Milner's door and tell her you hit the cat by accident," said Peter.

Ann stared at him in the greatest alarm.

What! Go and own up to old Miss Milner, who had a very cross face indeed? Why, she wouldn't know a thing about the car if nobody told her. So why tell her?

"We don't need to say anything," said Ann. "She would never know it was one of our arrows that hit her cat. And I don't expect the cat's hurt much anyway. Miss Milner is terribly fierce, you know."

Peter looked fierce, too, quite suddenly. He stared scornfully at Ann.

"Do you know what you are? You're a cowardy custard! Afraid of owning up! The cat might be badly hurt -- we don't know -- and we ought to tell about it. We didn't do it on purpose. Miss Milner will know it was an accident."

"Oh, but, Peter, she'll be so cross," said Ann, her eyes filling with tears.

"And what does that matter?" said Peter, still in his horrid, scornful voice. "Have people never been cross with you? Why shouldn't they be sometimes? I feel very cross with you myself. I know it's horrid when people are cross, but even if we don't like it we needn't be afraid of it."

"You come with me then, Peter," wept Ann. "You tell Miss Milner. And oh, couldn't you say it was your arrow that hit the cat? I always feel so scared when things like this happen. You're big and brave, and you're a boy. I'm a girl, and Mummy says I'm timid and sensitive."

"Timid and sensitive!" said Peter sneeringly. "That's what people often say when their children are cowardly and deceitful. Pooh! You're only a year younger than I am, and what does it matter if you're a girl? I've got a cousin of nine called Jean -- and she's as brave as anything. She's coming to stay soon, and I'll be glad to have her. She can stand on her own feet -- you always want to stand on somebody else's."

"I don't, I don't," sobbed Ann, thinking that Peter was very unkind.

"You do," said Peter. "When you got into trouble at school you asked your mother to put it right for you instead of taking your punishment properly. And when you broke Lucy's ruler in half you were afraid to tell her. You got George to explain it to Lucy. And now you want me to go and tell Miss Milner that I shot the arrow at the cat. Why can't you stand on your own feet?"

Ann didn't answer. She wiped her eyes and sniffed.

"You'll grow up into a milk-and-water, namby-pamby, weak and silly person," went on Peter. "My mother says people like that have never learned to stand on their own feet and face up to things."

Ann began to cry again. "You don't like me! You won't want to play with me any more."

Peter looked at Ann and felt sorry for her -- but not too sorry! No, that would never do. He took her arm and shook it gently.

"Ann! I'm going to tell you something nice now. I do like you. You're fun to play with; and if you'd be brave and stand on your own feet always, I'd like you as much as I like anyone. But if you don't stand on your own feet I shan't be friends with you at all. You won't be worth it!"

Ann sniffed again, then wiped her eyes and put away her hanky. She looked at Peter, so straight and tall and fearless. She would never, never be like him -- but she could at least try. She didn't want him to think Jean was wonderful and play only with her when she came to stay with him. It would be horrid to be left out because she was feeble and silly, and a coward.

"I think you've said worse things than any grown-up would say," she told him. "But I think perhaps you're right. I don't believe I ever do stand on my own feet. You watch me now!"

And to Peter's enormous surprise she went out of his garden and up the front path to Miss Milner's house, where she knocked on the door.

When she heard footsteps along the hallway inside she almost ran away. This was the very first time Ann had ever owned up to anything by herself; and although she had felt very brave when she had spoken to Peter, she didn't feel at all brave now.

The door opened -- and there stood the cross-faced Miss Milner. "What do you want?" she said.

Ann could hardly get the words out, she was so afraid. "Please -- quite by accident -- I hit your cat with an arrow. I thought I'd better tell you -- in case she was hurt. I'm so sorry."

Ann stammered all this out with a very red face, and then turned to run away. But Miss Milner caught hold of her arm.

"Wait!" she said. "Let's have a look at the cat. She's in the kitchen. How nice of you to tell me. Most children wouldn't have said a word."

Ann's heart was still beating fast as she went with Miss Milner into her kitchen. The cat was there in front of the fire. Miss Milner examined her.

"She has a little lump on this leg, but that's all," she said. "I don't think she's hurt much. Thank you for telling me. I think a lot of you for that -- and when I see your mother I shall tell her what a brave little girl she's got, to come and own up like this."

"Peter made me," said Ann, going red again. "I was afraid to."

"Well, here are the biscuits for you both," said Miss Milner, reaching up for a tin. "I made them myself. That boy Peter is a good lad -- absolutely trustworthy. He'll make a fine man, there's no doubt about that!"

She gave Ann the biscuits and smiled at her. Ann was astonished. Why, Miss Milner hadn't a cross face after all! She thanked her and raced back to Peter, her face glowing. They munched the biscuits together whilst Ann told all that had happened.

"There you are, you see -- as soon as you stand on your own feet things aren't nearly so frightening as you think," said Peter. "But, mind you, even if they are frightening it's still no reason for not facing up to them. I must say I never thought you had it in you, Ann, to own up like that!"

Ann thought about many things that night in bed. She remembered a lot, too. She remembered how she had once broken one of the panes in the garden shed and hadn't owned up and Daddy thought it was the odd-job boy who had done it. She remembered how she had got into trouble at school over forgotten homework and had begged her mother to go and tell her teacher she hadn't been well and that was why the work wasn't done. And, oh dear, Mother had done what Ann wanted; perhaps Mother didn't know it was wrong not to let her stand on her own feet.

Ann remembered other things. Mother was always making excuses for her. She wouldn't let Daddy scold her when she had broken his fountain-pen. She wouldn't let Granny be cross with her when Ann had left the tap running in the basin and flooded the floor. She hadn't even made Ann go and tell Granny herself -- Mother had gone to tell her and explain.

"I've been standing on other people's feet for ages," thought Ann, feeling ashamed. "It's going to be hard to stand on my own now. I hope they'll bear my weight!"

That made her smile. She thought of Peter. However afraid he might be, he always seemed strong and brave and sensible. She wanted him to think well of her. She fell asleep making up her mind that she would be far, far better than his wonderful cousin Jean!

Well, it wasn't easy to keep her word to Peter. All kinds of things happened that seemed to make things as difficult as possible.

She lost one of her exercise books on the way to school, and because she knew she would have to stay in at playtime and get a few sharp words from her teacher she simply could not tell her.

She kept thinking what to say and then not saying it. In despair she went to Peter between lessons and told him.

"I'm a coward after all," she said. "I simply can't own up!"

"Now you go straight away this minute and say 'Miss Brown, I'm sorry. I must have dropped my exercise book on the way to school'," said Peter. "Go on. This very minute. The more you think of it the worse it will be. It's best to do these things AT ONCE."

Peter was right, of course. It was always best to face up to things at once and get them over. Miss Brown wasn't even cross! She put her hand into her desk -- and brought out Ann's exercise book. "Here it is," she said. "Somebody picked it up and brought it to me. Put your name on it, you know that's the rule."

Ann felt so relieved. How silly she had been to worry herself all the morning! If only she had gone to Miss Brown at once.

The next day she broke one of Mother's vases. Ann was horrified. Still, she knew how to get round Mother. She would wait till Mother found the vase, then she would say she had meant to tell her, and she would cry -- and Mother wouldn't scold at all!

"You coward!" Ann said to herself when she had thought all this. "Horrid, deceitful little coward! Go at once and tell Mother."

And she went. Mother was upset, and told Ann she was careless.

"Yes," said Ann. "I was careless. Let me buy you another vase out of my own money, Mother."

That made Mother feel very pleased. Ann suddenly felt pleased herself. How nice it was to stand on your own feet! You really did think more of yourself. She felt quite ten centimetres taller!

Then Daddy was quite cross because Ann had left her bicycle out in the rain. Usually she would have run to Mother and cried and asked her to tell Daddy she hadn't meant to -- but not this time.

"Daddy, I'm sorry," she said. "I absolutely forgot my bike. I'll dry it and clean it this evening. It won't happen again."

Her father looked at her in surprise. Usually Ann wept buckets of tears, and made all kinds of excuses. This was a new Ann, an Ann he liked very much.

"Spoken like a brave lass!" he said, and Ann went red with pleasure.

Still, things weren't easy at all, because it does take a long time to learn to stand on your own feet when you've been using someone else's for ten years! Ann was often afraid, often quite in despair when things went wrong, and she had to somehow summon up enough courage to face them all by herself. She was determined not to ask Mother or Daddy or Peter to help her in anything. It must be her own feet she stood on and nobody else's!

Everyone noticed the change in Ann. Only Peter understood it. He was pleased and proud. Proud of himself because he had made Ann into a nicer person, and proud of Ann for being able to find courage to do it.

And then, just before Peter's cousin Jean was due to arrive, something else happened. Ann was out on her bicycle, riding some way behind a small boy. Suddenly a dog ran out and collided with the back wheel of the boy's bicycle. Off he fell at once and lay in the road, squealing with fright and pain.

And what did Ann do? She didn't do what she would have done three weeks before -- screamed and ridden away as fast as she could.

No -- she rode up to the boy, shooed away the big playful dog, helped up the screaming child, and took him to the nearest house to have his cut knees seen to. She found out his name and address and went riding off to tell his mother and to ask her to come and fetch him home.

Peter heard about it because the boy's mother was a great friend of his own mother's, and told her about Ann. "A more sensible, helpful child I never saw!" said the little boy's mother. "Stood on her own feet, and did all the right things at once. Now, I do like a child like that."

Peter was bursting with pride. He rushed off to tell Ann. She went red and looked away. She was so pleased to hear Peter's praise that she couldn't say a word.

"I'm glad you're my friend," said Peter. "You really are a friend to be proud of."

"It's a pity Jean's coming tomorrow," said Ann with a sigh. "Just as I'm getting sensible enough to be your friend. Now you'll have Jean and you won't want anyone else to play with."

"Jean will like you awfully," said Peter. "Come and play every day, will you? We'll go for picnics together and go swimming. It'll be fun, the three of us."

It is fun. Ann's having a lovely time. She always stands on her own feet now, and what I would dearly like to know is -- do you?



It would be very nice.

If I did write that. Haha.

Credit to Enid Blyton for her short story entitled, Stand On Your Own Feet, from Christina's Kite & Other Stories.

One of her more practical stories. Practical, meaning, devoid of gnomes, magic, pixies, and fairies. And practical, meaning, something I (and most of us, I believe) can relate to. Ah, enough on that.

By the way...

Enid Blyton has a secret blog that everyone knows about! (what's the point of a secret blog that's not secret? doh...)


This sounds nice. *twinkling eyes* -->

"Nicky and his friend Ken are excited by the prospect of making up a mystery for Uncle Bob, a bored private investigator who's supposed to be at home for a rest. But Uncle Bob isn't taken in, and Nicky is disappointed. But then mysterious things start happening—exactly as Nicky and Ken had imagined!"

Monday, 2 June 2008


I learned a new word.


p/s: i know this blog is lacking updates.