Tuesday, March 29, 2011

Don't push it ...

Got a bit of spare time today for an entry, despite this black hole in my head.

Religion is not my favourite topic, neither is faith, because I might offend some people without even meaning to. And you know how fast and furious we can get defending it. Sometimes so irrational, and stubbornly so, sometimes not willing to bend or listen to what other people are saying, and sometimes persistently insisting yours is right, mine is wrong, and vice versa. Bla bla bla.

And I quote: People who want to share their religious views with you almost never want you to share yours with them.

We don't ram our opinions down each other's throats, do we? Anything more and we'll end up strangling each other.

Take coffee, for instance. I drink coffee. I like them, in fact I must have a cup every day. If you don't like them, keep silent. I do not make you drink them, did I? But do not condemn me for drinking them. Or others who do. Should I offer coffee to you and should you decline, I respect you. I would expect the same from you. Don't start preaching to me about coffee. You are not my doctor. And do not attempt to steer my mind towards your opinions. I thank you that you bothered. But do not be wise in your own eyes, for you might end up looking like a fool. You and me alike. Why can't we just sip our drinks - me with my coffee, you with yours - side by side without feeling the need to be hostile? 


p/s: By impounding the Bible, and insisting the adherence of policy makers, the federal government is sending a message. Learn to read the gestures.

Tuesday, March 22, 2011

Whinier than thou...

Ok here goes...

I have actually written many entries prior to this, and ended up saving them as drafts. The thing is, I have so many things I wanted to say, but when I click 'New Post' and the blank page opens up before me, I became it - blank. Writer's block, do you think? That's what happens when you consume too much coffee and exercise less... the caffeine goes into your bloodstream rendering you perpetually awake, full of spit, and occasionally ramble meaninglessly. 

I admire all you other bloggers who are capable of blogging about every single thing under the sun, everyday or every other day. I struggle to even make myself worth a read. That coupled with a lot of work-related stuff ... I simply can't focus. Sigh.

What an exhausting week!

I physically moved out of my cubicle of 1 year and 5 months... onto another workstation. Practically isolated, literally an island, and feeling neglected. I'm in a room all by myself. And it's not an elated position ... it's segregation. Yes that's it. So I can be near the store. Eh? People make ridiculous demands sometimes. And as a person dictated by the law of my own hands in that piece of Surat Aku Janji that I signed along with the rest, I have to comply. (In English would be what... "I Pledge"? Doesn't sound right).

*shouts* For King and Country!

However, that is beside the point. Not supposed to blog about work. *zipped*

Not supposed to complain either. *zipped*

Just supposed to follow, like lamb to the slaughter.

*shouts* For King and Country! 

Aha! There you see? At least I managed to blog entirely about nothing! Ha ha!

*shouts* For King and Country!

Sunday, March 20, 2011

Some more stuffs about coffee... (cont)

(I'm bored. Indulge me.)

I bet you didn't know this: 

Before coffee was made into a drink, it was originally eaten. African tribes in the Ethiopia mixed coffee berries with grease (animal fat - I believe) which formed edible energy balls! Much like meat balls, except it's fully caffeinated! Imagine that... all those unstrung powers in one pebbly dose. Probably even looked like this...

Coffee Balls? Pic courtesy of Girl's Eye View

And here's another coffee terms 101:

The term 'Americano' originated from America GIs during WWII. They would order espresso with water to dilute the strong flavor. Apparently, those war machines can't handle their coffee. Oh I would never hose down my coffee... isn't that the point of drinking it in the first place?

Furthermore, the term 'cup of joe' comes from American servicemen (GI Joes) in WWII being seen as big coffee drinkers. Drink big but watered down. Nah... I win.

Wait... was there a 'Cup of Joe' in the local Starbucks menu? I don't recall. But there was an Americano, was there? I know there's a Tall Black... There's an excuse to go visit there again. Yeay.

Coming up... more on coffee useless information but interesting facts. Haha

NOTE: Sourced from The Oatmeal.Com. Thank you!

Wednesday, March 16, 2011

I Need To Throw A Tantrum...

Because if some people can make ridiculous demands on short notice and expect the subordinates to comply, so can we. So can I. Is there a free face that needs breaking right now? My knuckles itch.

And the title of my next movie would be: Hancock 2: Superheroes need a break too. 

Monday, March 14, 2011

Some stuffs you need to know about Coffee...

Did you know? At one point, coffee house was allegedly a terrorist domain once upon a paranoid time. In 1675, the King of England banned coffee houses, claiming they were places where people met to conspire against him.

And I bet you didn't know this: George Washington invented instant coffee!
No no, not George Washington, The President...

... But a Belgian man living in Guatemala by the name of George Washington Carver invented it in 1906. He was quite the famous scientist in his days, experimenting with plants and crops. 
And do you know what you drink when you order Espresso?
Espresso is not a particular type of bean, roast, or blend. It is in fact just a way that coffee is prepared: shooting pressurized, hot water through finely ground coffee. It is normally served with nothing else - for the hardcore coffee lover.

Pic courtesy of Kochbuchfotos.

That's all for today folks! I crave an Espresso suddenly...

Have a blast on Monday!!

NOTE: Sourced from The Oatmeal.Com. Thank you!

Monday, March 7, 2011

Bleed ... Pt 2

*Warning:  Not for the faint-hearted*  

Do you know that when you donate blood, your blood is deemed quality blood if it takes less than 12 minutes to get a 1-pint (equal to 450ml) from you? Quality means it will be much easier for blood technicians to separate your blood into parts, usually red blood cells, plasma, and platelets, since most recipients need only a specific component for transfusions. Anything more than 12 minutes and they'll just take the blood as a whole.

I got a 10-minutes record. Not bad. (I practically had to keep pumping my veins using a given grip because listening to the doctor dictating what is or isn't a quality blood actually gave me a challenge).

Here's the thing: Blood has always fascinated me. Not in a psychotic freak way, but more of like a pull of constant curiosity. I could have made a very good scientist, instead - and I'm trying not to digress here - I am not.

Was it painful? Only the initial sting when they first prick you, but if you could survive a mosquito bite, you could survive this. And then about 2 seconds of a feeling akin to a high when your blood started flowing, or maybe that was my excitement talking. *Vamps come to mind*

The needle wasn't huge... don't believe everything you hear. Imagine a tiny thumb tack, it's that small. What's huge is the drip, that's probably what you saw. But if you're going to let a tiny pin like that stop you from doing a great thing, then what can I say. Maybe it's not your thing. Cheer up. But know this: Every minute of every day, hundreds of persons need blood. Who was it that said sharing is caring? This instance, nothing is truer.

Anyway... here's the funny thing about that whole ordeal which almost didn't happen: I forgot when I had my menses. You see, the friendly doctor cum blood technician, interviewed me beforehand asking the final question, which I didn't give a thought to until it was asked. So I had to strain my brain trying to remember when my last er womanly course was because they will not allow you to donate if you're a week away from your monthly friend's visit. And I initially gave a wild guess and it was the wrong answer. And then another wild guess, and still the wrong answer. The doctor said "Sorry dik aa, come back after you've had it." And I couldn't believe I was disappointed and desperate! To cut the story short... with a red face, I called a friend to check my calendar, and phew.....! Almost stranded there. Imagine what an overkill that would be to be so excited and not have it done with.

So recounting that moment of pure bliss and pleasure and not to mention a tad too heroic for a simple girl like me who craves exactly this sort of charitable adventure, here are a few other benefits other than the obvious physical ones you have probably read in the Internet:
  1. You get to meet new friends ... the blood technician and the doctor were really friendly and nice. And you feel their sincerity, not just because they probably understand your fears. And it's a great way to network too.
  2. Donors get designated parking lots at the Blood Bank.
  3. You get a book -  a ticket to your medical needs later. Oh, and if you donate for the second time, you are entitled to a free Hepatitis B shot... worth RM50 each in clinics or specialist hospitals. And you have to take 2 shots, remember?
  4. You get a kick knowing you're doing a good brave deed.
  5. And knowing I have a quality blood makes me feel real good.
  6. Don't do it for the goodies or souvenirs. You're volunteers, remember? But if you do want goodies, go to any Blood Drive. Like if you go to Jimisar's Blood Drive, you probably get a car free. Who knows?
  7. You can nap too, if you like. Comfortable bed and cool atmosphere, although it is too short for that.
  8. You hear and get all sorts of tips from the doctor in residence. Sort of like free medical consultation, although delivered in a much relaxed way. Stuffs like that you would normally pay for in any clinic.
  9. You will be on their record as heroes... No, I'm kidding. But seriously, you will be on call for emergencies like when people need your blood type and there are none. Especially if you have a rare blood type. 
  10. You get free snacks. :-) Yeay.

And I am O positive by the way.

The young and pretty miss taking my blood samples altho I did tell her it was O...

Prick-a-pratt... needles going in, blood going out...

My friend ... he did his in 7 minutes! Whoa... very high quality blood..
On a high and steadily flowing... 

That all that came out of me?

Post-bleed free snacks ... protein. 

And this is my tiny insignificant souvenir... a hand towel.

Another three months before my next bleeding session is due. Care to join me? We could hold hands if you're scared.

Anyway, for those interested to donate or to enquire further on Blood Drive, please contact:
Blood Bank, Sarawak General Hospital
Tel: 082-276795/ 276797

Did you faint already? :-)

Friday, March 4, 2011

Bleed ... Pt 1

Do you know that if you have tattoos or ear/body piercing or acupuncture within 12 months before, you are not allowed to donate blood? Or if you have stayed in the UK and Europe during 1980 to 1996?  I know the logic behind the first, I'm not so sure about the second. Does anyone, perchance, know?

My friend Clive has been nudging me to accompany him to the blood bank. And so today at lunchtime, what the heck... I am planning to bleed for a good cause. This will be my second time after 12 years. He has been steadily doing it once in 3 months.

I'm not sure if I'm well prepped up for this as I was a bit emo last night and thus didn't get the required 5 hours sleep prior. And I think I ate shrimps around 8pm at dinner... but I made that up with midnight detox tea and lemon juice. And this morning ... well... just Milo and fibrous biscuits as I read somewhere that caffeine (coffee, tea or other caffeinated beverages) are to be avoided entirely. Note that I am clearly following my own logic with this. I exercised quite regularly and my cholesterol level is stable, last time I checked. And my libido is well, let's not talk about that although it did mention in there as part of the check-list.

Clive told me the people who will be doing the bleeding are called blood technicians. And they're licensed to harvest your fluid much like organ harvesters are licensed to collect organs from organ donors. Ah it's all so clear now.

Now, if you think that donating blood will make you gain weight... Bull. You only need to know how to counter your fluid loss in a healthy and controlled manner. Well it does kinda make your appetite increase, and not just appetite for food. Now I know how a vampire and its victim feels like. But if you're afraid of blood or needles, you just have to get over your fears in your own time.

Listen to this important donation fact message: Giving blood will not decrease your strength. Not giving a thought to someone who needs blood, well, that's just plain weak.

How about you join me today at lunchbreak at the Blood Bank? Half-mad and dying to be a heroin ... before I change my mind. Wish me luck!


Tuesday, March 1, 2011

Flipped ...

You never forget your first love. Some of us may get dipped in flat, some in satin, some in gloss; but every once in a while, you find someone who's iridescent, and once you do, nothing will ever compare.

You don't begin life until you begin high school. It's when all your senses are awakened, and you feel the first stirring of existence. I still remember to this day, the lonely smart boy in my class who didn't talk much, advanced beyond his years who kept a small number of friends and had the reputation of being cool and collected. The first day I stepped in class, he turned to look at me from his solitude corner, gave me a weary nod like the world was about to collapse on his shoulder, and then he suddenly grinned. And I was irrevocably in love. But it was not as sunshiny as it sounded, because the feeling was strange to me and I did not acknowledge it quite as I would have if me now were me then. We were in the same class for three years, and all he ever cared about was being on top of the class, and all I cared about was how to beat him to it, and all the other classmates cared about were love letters, Manchester United, New Kids on the Block, and keeping up with the latest hair trend. He kept to his friends, I kept to mine, and occasionally when I beat him to the top, he would grudgingly but admiringly congratulate me, in so little as a sentence. Oh I dreamed about him. I fantasized about him. In as much as my young 13 year old mind would allow.

Then one day two years later, on the eve of SRP, he asked to borrow my History notes. He never borrowed any of my notes before. He never borrowed from anybody either, especially  not girls. He was that smart and that proud not to borrow anyone's notes. Period. So when he borrowed mine, it spoke volume.

And following that, unconventionally, and it all went without saying, during the exam period ... was how he unofficially became my high-school boyfriend. In as much as the dating scene in those days allowed - short love notes, scribbles on text books, booth phone calls, and occasional walks from the classroom to the toilet and back. We never sit together in class. We never stayed back after class. We never held hands. Not even a kiss, if we only knew how. No hand-phone, no Internet. And all the time, I had my best friend chaperoned me from afar.

I wrote two whole journals about the whole encounter. He deserved to be put in three, but there was too little communication or perhaps it was one-sided initially, that I had not much else to write about other than my own imagination and fantasy. I could compose a whole page just narrating about him asking me for an extra pencil. Or about him being sick. Or about the way he sipped his coke. Or about the way he walked. Or about the way he combed his hair. Or about his expressive eyes and hooded expression. Or about his voice.

I flipped so hard I was this close to finish a whole novel. It was the best first-love story I've ever experienced. But then something happened during the intermittent period awaiting exam results. I grew up. Up until now, I had a feeling he still resented me for it. But then, that's another story.

Every now and then when I think about him, I thought of how I used to feel back then. We were so different in personalities everyone wondered how it was that he had chosen me out of all the other girls. Or to be accurate... how it was that I had chosen him. What was right about it all is the age-old saying - you do not choose who you love. You just do.

You may call it infatuation, crush, puppy love, anything ... but even in our naivete, we had called it first love. And like the first of every experience, you will always be reminded of it. The irony of it is, you will also remember your first heartache. Flipped for life...

If I had it any other way, what would I have done differently? My bet would be not to end it. But hey, I was just 15. What did I know?