Just learned that the O levels Chinese paper is taking place tomorrow morning; thanks to the younger brother.
To think that it has been 7 years already!
Has it really been that long already?! Am I turning old, or what?
Sunday, 31 May 2009
WORDS VERSUS ACTIONS
Don't just keep relying on words; let actions do the talking instead.
A person's actions - even, the lack thereof - implies a lot. It reveals the real hidden things in the heart. Words can be faked; well-chosen words may be able to gloss things over; but actions say and reveal it all.
It's actions and efforts that speak volume, and never words. Talk? Talk is cheap. Very cheap. Anybody on the streets can talk.
Don't just talk.
Respect. Trust.
Earn it.
A person's actions - even, the lack thereof - implies a lot. It reveals the real hidden things in the heart. Words can be faked; well-chosen words may be able to gloss things over; but actions say and reveal it all.
It's actions and efforts that speak volume, and never words. Talk? Talk is cheap. Very cheap. Anybody on the streets can talk.
Don't just talk.
Respect. Trust.
Earn it.
Friday, 29 May 2009
Wednesday, 27 May 2009
MAN AND CONCENTRATION
This is one of the photos taken during the wedding banquet 3 weeks ago, starring the bridegroom, K, and the emcee, YH.
Somehow, I really like this photo. There is just something magnetic about this photo that draws my attention. Like bees to nectar.
I've always liked to observe a man who is caught in his full focus. Men doing what they're primarily supposed and called to do. To lead. To guide. To direct.
I think ALL men look brilliantly awe-inspiring when they're concentrating. The furrowed brows; the power in the eyes; the focus in the mind. It is something - a force, even - to reckon with. In moments like these, ALL men look razor sharp. Smart. Efficient. Determined. Confident. Powerful. Charismatic. Authoritative. Mighty. Oh yes, awe-inspiring.
Monday, 25 May 2009
JOKE OF THE DAY
This is very slow, I know, but I only found out on last Wednesday that there is going to be a match between Liverpool and Singapore in... Ermmm... July? If my memory serves me correctly? (Ermmm, honestly, com'on? Is there even a need for this match? Isn't it obvious enough?)
I heard this piece ofold news from the younger brother, who was very excited about booking the tickets. He was practically gushing over it.
Anyway, last night, after logging off from the internet, I went to the living room to take a breather. Sprawling slothfully across the couch, I munched on the dark chocolate cookies which were left over from the day's lunch at Subway. It was then I realized that they're showing the live telecast of a football match.
The younger brother eyed me suspiciously. "姐," he called out, "you know what is Tot?"
"Tottenham, lah!" Please, man, this is a piece of CAKE. Growing up around 2 MALE siblings certainly have some advantages. I used to play games like Championship Manager, Red Alert, Counter Strike, Final Fantasy etc. Well, how could I not? With 2 brothers, the category of games and entertainment available around the house is quite limited.
The younger brother looked genuinely impressed.
"Name me a Liverpool player, leh." He persisted.
Now, I know he's an arrant fan of Gerrad (did I even get the spelling correct?), and hence resisted giving that as an answer. I bit off a hearty chuck of the tasty cookie and contemplated momentarily. "Owen. Michael Owen." I chewed thoughtfully, and a sudden horror striked me, "Oh! WAIT! I take that back! He got transferred out, is it not?!"
"PLEASE, LAH! THAT IS LIKE A MILLION OF YEARS AGO ALREADY, LOH!" The younger brother exclaimed in exasperation. He threw me an incredulous look as though I'm a Martian who just landed on Earth, and proclaimed unceremoniously that I'm the joke of the day.
Crushed.
That's the thing about growing up with 2 male siblings and no sisters. You get ribbed at. Alot.
What can I say? I grew up in the era where Beckham was still handsome, still unmarried, and still had his wind-blown flyaway blonde, long fringe. Shearer, Scholes, Cole, Yorke, Solskjaer, Bergkamp, Fowler, and Sheringham were some of the better strikers I know of. Shay Given, Fabian Barthez, and that old old former-Man U guy (I can't remember his name. Gosh, has he retired already?) were rather good goalkeepers as I remember it. Neville and Butt were the only defenders I know and remember of to date. Ryan Giggs and the handsome Beckham were the 2 dunno-what-left-and-right-wings. Owen, oh yes. Owen was the handsome, young, and super-talented guy in Liverpool. Yes, this is the era I grew up in.
P.S. Okay, I just googled it out. NOW I remember. It's Schmeichel. Peter Schmeichel.
I heard this piece of
Anyway, last night, after logging off from the internet, I went to the living room to take a breather. Sprawling slothfully across the couch, I munched on the dark chocolate cookies which were left over from the day's lunch at Subway. It was then I realized that they're showing the live telecast of a football match.
The younger brother eyed me suspiciously. "姐," he called out, "you know what is Tot?"
"Tottenham, lah!" Please, man, this is a piece of CAKE. Growing up around 2 MALE siblings certainly have some advantages. I used to play games like Championship Manager, Red Alert, Counter Strike, Final Fantasy etc. Well, how could I not? With 2 brothers, the category of games and entertainment available around the house is quite limited.
The younger brother looked genuinely impressed.
"Name me a Liverpool player, leh." He persisted.
Now, I know he's an arrant fan of Gerrad (did I even get the spelling correct?), and hence resisted giving that as an answer. I bit off a hearty chuck of the tasty cookie and contemplated momentarily. "Owen. Michael Owen." I chewed thoughtfully, and a sudden horror striked me, "Oh! WAIT! I take that back! He got transferred out, is it not?!"
"PLEASE, LAH! THAT IS LIKE A MILLION OF YEARS AGO ALREADY, LOH!" The younger brother exclaimed in exasperation. He threw me an incredulous look as though I'm a Martian who just landed on Earth, and proclaimed unceremoniously that I'm the joke of the day.
Crushed.
That's the thing about growing up with 2 male siblings and no sisters. You get ribbed at. Alot.
What can I say? I grew up in the era where Beckham was still handsome, still unmarried, and still had his wind-blown flyaway blonde, long fringe. Shearer, Scholes, Cole, Yorke, Solskjaer, Bergkamp, Fowler, and Sheringham were some of the better strikers I know of. Shay Given, Fabian Barthez, and that old old former-Man U guy (I can't remember his name. Gosh, has he retired already?) were rather good goalkeepers as I remember it. Neville and Butt were the only defenders I know and remember of to date. Ryan Giggs and the handsome Beckham were the 2 dunno-what-left-and-right-wings. Owen, oh yes. Owen was the handsome, young, and super-talented guy in Liverpool. Yes, this is the era I grew up in.
P.S. Okay, I just googled it out. NOW I remember. It's Schmeichel. Peter Schmeichel.
Sunday, 24 May 2009
YEARS
I was looking through my past entries the other day. Starting from the very post in 2005, I randomly clicked on the list of archives.
I laughed, winced, and cringed at my past silliness. Who was that? Is that me? Did I type all these things? What is all these silliness? Had these blog entries not been found under Je Ne Sais Quoi, I would have wondered who the author is. All these silliness! As I read, I wanted to dig a hole and bury myself. On a more pragmatic note though, deleting them would be a more ideal alternative.
It is so sorely tempting! It would be so nice! Everything would be fantastic! All sunshine and rainbows! ALL the entries would be insightful and eloquent and mind-boggling. Hear, hear!
For reasons I can't fathom though, something holds me back. Perhaps it's because all these entries - like it or not - were a real part of me. Perhaps it serves as a reminder of who I once were and how I now am. Perhaps, even, deleting these offending entries means that I'm ashamed of my past; of how I used to be. Whatever the case, I don't want to delete them.
I officially came in in late 2004. I was in the second year of study in TP then. The first time I came was during Easter, and I responded - only to immediately MIA for about 4months due to work commitments during the vacation period. I promised to come back when the new term starts, and I'm grateful that the people did not forget. As soon as term started, the calls came in.
My first ministry was in Nursery in 2005. Poly came and went. Before I knew it, I had already completed FYP and internship, and pretty soon I'll be graduating! I did not want to graduate. I did not want to just stop at a diploma. No matter what, I wanted to continue; but finance was a mightily huge problem. This began a frantic application to everywhere and anywhere. During that period of time, I was desperate; so much so that I had difficulty sleeping. In the end? He proved faithful. He IS faithful. He supplied all my needs. He gave me my desires. He gave me what I dared to believe for. Not only did I got a place to study in, the varsity education also did not cost a penny out of my pocket. The best part is, my allowance and maintainence was ensured. Sure. the sum was not generous, but at least, it is comfortable, and most importantly, it negated the necessity of juggling school and work.
In mid-2006, I joined First Hand. Underwent and completed the training as part of the 9th batch. People tend to bulge their eyes and express curiosity when they found out I'm in First Hand. The curiousity to know more is evident. Typical questions are like, "How is it like?", "How are the people?" etc. Let me tell you now, they're like you and I - normal. Perfectly normal. And they're some of the bravest and most genuine individuals I've come across.
I was glad to be in there. In the midst, a lot of personal things happened and built up. I finally couldn't cope, and stopped serving after a year in there. 3 months later, in November 2007, I left totally. Totally. Yes, I backslid. I'm not proud to say that, I wish to blot it out even, but it's true.
Another 6 months later in 2008, again in Easter, I came back for the first time again. It has been slightly more than a year now. Since then, I've stumbled and scraped some knees here and there. The things that caused me to left back then still come back and bother me once in a while. It's different this time though, because I'm different. Change is a continuous process. The me in 2005 and the me in 2009 is different. It took 4 years, but despite going on to 23 of age, I'm still not perfect nevertheless.
The things that bothered me back then still visits now. Certain things we have no control over, but like what someone told me recently, the only thing we can do is to pray for His will to come to pass - whatever it may be - because it is the best thing that can happen. It took 4 years, but you know what, this is the time of my life.
And I'm glad. Really. If only you can see me beaming now.
I laughed, winced, and cringed at my past silliness. Who was that? Is that me? Did I type all these things? What is all these silliness? Had these blog entries not been found under Je Ne Sais Quoi, I would have wondered who the author is. All these silliness! As I read, I wanted to dig a hole and bury myself. On a more pragmatic note though, deleting them would be a more ideal alternative.
It is so sorely tempting! It would be so nice! Everything would be fantastic! All sunshine and rainbows! ALL the entries would be insightful and eloquent and mind-boggling. Hear, hear!
For reasons I can't fathom though, something holds me back. Perhaps it's because all these entries - like it or not - were a real part of me. Perhaps it serves as a reminder of who I once were and how I now am. Perhaps, even, deleting these offending entries means that I'm ashamed of my past; of how I used to be. Whatever the case, I don't want to delete them.
I officially came in in late 2004. I was in the second year of study in TP then. The first time I came was during Easter, and I responded - only to immediately MIA for about 4months due to work commitments during the vacation period. I promised to come back when the new term starts, and I'm grateful that the people did not forget. As soon as term started, the calls came in.
My first ministry was in Nursery in 2005. Poly came and went. Before I knew it, I had already completed FYP and internship, and pretty soon I'll be graduating! I did not want to graduate. I did not want to just stop at a diploma. No matter what, I wanted to continue; but finance was a mightily huge problem. This began a frantic application to everywhere and anywhere. During that period of time, I was desperate; so much so that I had difficulty sleeping. In the end? He proved faithful. He IS faithful. He supplied all my needs. He gave me my desires. He gave me what I dared to believe for. Not only did I got a place to study in, the varsity education also did not cost a penny out of my pocket. The best part is, my allowance and maintainence was ensured. Sure. the sum was not generous, but at least, it is comfortable, and most importantly, it negated the necessity of juggling school and work.
In mid-2006, I joined First Hand. Underwent and completed the training as part of the 9th batch. People tend to bulge their eyes and express curiosity when they found out I'm in First Hand. The curiousity to know more is evident. Typical questions are like, "How is it like?", "How are the people?" etc. Let me tell you now, they're like you and I - normal. Perfectly normal. And they're some of the bravest and most genuine individuals I've come across.
I was glad to be in there. In the midst, a lot of personal things happened and built up. I finally couldn't cope, and stopped serving after a year in there. 3 months later, in November 2007, I left totally. Totally. Yes, I backslid. I'm not proud to say that, I wish to blot it out even, but it's true.
Another 6 months later in 2008, again in Easter, I came back for the first time again. It has been slightly more than a year now. Since then, I've stumbled and scraped some knees here and there. The things that caused me to left back then still come back and bother me once in a while. It's different this time though, because I'm different. Change is a continuous process. The me in 2005 and the me in 2009 is different. It took 4 years, but despite going on to 23 of age, I'm still not perfect nevertheless.
The things that bothered me back then still visits now. Certain things we have no control over, but like what someone told me recently, the only thing we can do is to pray for His will to come to pass - whatever it may be - because it is the best thing that can happen. It took 4 years, but you know what, this is the time of my life.
And I'm glad. Really. If only you can see me beaming now.
Friday, 22 May 2009
JIMMY!!!
My first lesson is supposed to start at 2.30pm, but I've been in school since 12.30pm. Why? For a project discussion. But? Only 2 out of 4 of us are here.
I don't feel frustrated though. We might not have control over certain things or circumstances, but at least we can always control our attitude and response. It's alright, it's okay. I have other reports to touch up on and finalise as well. Time is not wasted. In fact, time should NEVER be wasted!
Anyway, we were having a Biology class on Monday, and our tutor talked about vital capacity. Apparently, when we talk about physical fitness, it is more than just mere muscles and strength. It is actually vital capacity that we're talking about. And, according to our tutor, this is why there is a difference in the fitness of men before and after NS.
Apparently, in order to increase one's vital capacity, we have to exercise AT LEAST thrice per week, 30 minutes minimum each time, over a period of 3 months (!!!). I have no idea how accurate this information is, but, hey, at least this is the man himself! Who else is better qualified than a biologist? Ok, fine, maybe a physotherapist. Or a gym instructor.
Ok, maybe I'll start exercising next week. It's time to start JOGGING again!!! I've been procrastinating long enough. Ever since I've done LASIK on the 17th of Feb, I've not been exercising (hey! It was the doctor's order!). And it's been quite a while since I last visited Jim. I won't mind spending some quality time with him. JIMMY!
I don't feel frustrated though. We might not have control over certain things or circumstances, but at least we can always control our attitude and response. It's alright, it's okay. I have other reports to touch up on and finalise as well. Time is not wasted. In fact, time should NEVER be wasted!
Anyway, we were having a Biology class on Monday, and our tutor talked about vital capacity. Apparently, when we talk about physical fitness, it is more than just mere muscles and strength. It is actually vital capacity that we're talking about. And, according to our tutor, this is why there is a difference in the fitness of men before and after NS.
Apparently, in order to increase one's vital capacity, we have to exercise AT LEAST thrice per week, 30 minutes minimum each time, over a period of 3 months (!!!). I have no idea how accurate this information is, but, hey, at least this is the man himself! Who else is better qualified than a biologist? Ok, fine, maybe a physotherapist. Or a gym instructor.
Ok, maybe I'll start exercising next week. It's time to start JOGGING again!!! I've been procrastinating long enough. Ever since I've done LASIK on the 17th of Feb, I've not been exercising (hey! It was the doctor's order!). And it's been quite a while since I last visited Jim. I won't mind spending some quality time with him. JIMMY!
Thursday, 21 May 2009
SATISFACTION
This Tuesday, we ended training early at 4.30pm. Since the first semester is drawing to a close, and with the recent avalanche of deadlines, the lot of us went to the neighbouring JP mall for a quick chill-out session.
PL, as usual, was the chauffeur of the day. Halfway through the journey, Segar commented on a certain musical which she caught recently over the weekends, and how it falls short of expectations despite of the hype it generated. "Or maybe, She added as an afterthought, with a whiff of regretful lamentation in her voice, "with the progression of age, human get increasingly harder to satisfy."
A forceful thought intruded my mind and before I knew it, the question was already tangling at the tip of my tongue. "And is it a bad thing?" I wanted to counter. However, instead of blurting it out, I pondered it over silently in my mind instead. For one, it's not a habit of mine to start a discussion on topics which I have yet to grasp a firm stand of.
The question burned in my mind for the rest of the journey. Till now, I have yet to get a concrete, clear stand. There's a gist of an idea, but it's still quite fuzzy up there.
Satisfaction.
It's true, as one progresses on in age and in life, we get exposed to more things. Unlike teenagers who are impressionable, adults are not quite so. Gradually, rising expectations come into play; and with rising expectations, comes satisfactory - or rather, the lack of it. But, is it a good or a bad thing?
With demand comes supply. High expectations directly increase the standard and quality of the work given. I've always believe that it's one thing to be happy at where we are, but it's absolutely another to be contented. For with contentment, comes complacency and stagnation.
On the other hand though, sometimes, the beautiful things in life are precisely the simplest things in life, isn't it so? The joyous melody of a baby's laughter. The innocent, cheeky grin of a child's. The heart-warming home-cooked dinner. The breathtaking awesomeness of sunrises. The night sky peppered with shimmering stars. The smell of rain. The caress of wind. The beauty of silence. Of worship.
Satisfaction?
The bottom line and the key word, I guess, is balance. A sound mind.
What says you?
P.S. This post shall end here! I'm supposed to be paying attention to fellow classmates' micro-teachings and be a good pseudo-student.
PL, as usual, was the chauffeur of the day. Halfway through the journey, Segar commented on a certain musical which she caught recently over the weekends, and how it falls short of expectations despite of the hype it generated. "Or maybe, She added as an afterthought, with a whiff of regretful lamentation in her voice, "with the progression of age, human get increasingly harder to satisfy."
A forceful thought intruded my mind and before I knew it, the question was already tangling at the tip of my tongue. "And is it a bad thing?" I wanted to counter. However, instead of blurting it out, I pondered it over silently in my mind instead. For one, it's not a habit of mine to start a discussion on topics which I have yet to grasp a firm stand of.
The question burned in my mind for the rest of the journey. Till now, I have yet to get a concrete, clear stand. There's a gist of an idea, but it's still quite fuzzy up there.
Satisfaction.
It's true, as one progresses on in age and in life, we get exposed to more things. Unlike teenagers who are impressionable, adults are not quite so. Gradually, rising expectations come into play; and with rising expectations, comes satisfactory - or rather, the lack of it. But, is it a good or a bad thing?
With demand comes supply. High expectations directly increase the standard and quality of the work given. I've always believe that it's one thing to be happy at where we are, but it's absolutely another to be contented. For with contentment, comes complacency and stagnation.
On the other hand though, sometimes, the beautiful things in life are precisely the simplest things in life, isn't it so? The joyous melody of a baby's laughter. The innocent, cheeky grin of a child's. The heart-warming home-cooked dinner. The breathtaking awesomeness of sunrises. The night sky peppered with shimmering stars. The smell of rain. The caress of wind. The beauty of silence. Of worship.
Satisfaction?
The bottom line and the key word, I guess, is balance. A sound mind.
What says you?
P.S. This post shall end here! I'm supposed to be paying attention to fellow classmates' micro-teachings and be a good pseudo-student.
Wednesday, 20 May 2009
FURORE
POSTING'S OUT!!!
There was quite a mighty commotion last night. Everyone was on frenzy mode! People were MSN-ing or SMS-ing to announce the release of the posting list. Conversations practically flew everywhere. Everywhere. Facebook, for one.
And how do I feel about my posting?
This explains all.
Yeah, my only grouse is the location. For goodness sake, it's just opposite my block! My brothers' bedroom overlooks the school! Imagine that! It's THAT near.
During lesson today, all the classmates were taking a dig at me.
"Wear a wig when you're heading home."
"Wear trenchcoat, an outdoor hat, and big sunglasses."
"Double-check to confirm that no one tails you home."
"Look left, look right. Make sure no one is observing you before you enter your lift."
Even Dad was poking fun at it. This morning, he was telling me that I would be the DM's best pal. For one, I can help him keep a lookout for students loitering suspiciously around void decks in the neighbourhood.
Sigh.
Regardless of the cons, I'm nevertheless thankful for the location. I've friends who are posted to places that are really inconvenient and far. From Ang Mo Kio to Pasir Ris, for example. Or Bugis to Dover. They were lamenting about the long distance today. Me? All I've got to do is to cross the road, and ta-dah!
On a more serious note, I'm looking forward to the practicum. It'll be challenging, no doubt, but at least there'll be something new everyday! I like the interactive nature, as well as the dynamics, of it all.
Sure, there exists the ubiquitous comparison between good schools and bad schools; elite schools and neighbourhood schools. The two extreme ends of a spectrum.
But you know what I think? Good schools or bad schools, elite schools or neighbourhood ones - each of them bring about their own unique set of problems. The good schools probably have higher incidence of high-flier parents who are too busy to care about their kids. The neighbourhood schools probably have a bigger pie of rebellious and mischievous students with complicated family backgrounds.
Be it good schools or neighbourhood schools, It's the people - the staffs and the students - whom I'm there for. I'm not there for the rank. I don't know how long or how strong this resolution will hold into the future, but one thing that's for sure now: if there's one thing for me to take pride in, I would want it to be the people, the students, and the fighting spirit of a school; and not because a particular school has a good ranking or reputation.
Not all things can be measured - be it qualitatively or quantitatively.
There was quite a mighty commotion last night. Everyone was on frenzy mode! People were MSN-ing or SMS-ing to announce the release of the posting list. Conversations practically flew everywhere. Everywhere. Facebook, for one.
And how do I feel about my posting?
This explains all.Yeah, my only grouse is the location. For goodness sake, it's just opposite my block! My brothers' bedroom overlooks the school! Imagine that! It's THAT near.
During lesson today, all the classmates were taking a dig at me.
"Wear a wig when you're heading home."
"Wear trenchcoat, an outdoor hat, and big sunglasses."
"Double-check to confirm that no one tails you home."
"Look left, look right. Make sure no one is observing you before you enter your lift."
Even Dad was poking fun at it. This morning, he was telling me that I would be the DM's best pal. For one, I can help him keep a lookout for students loitering suspiciously around void decks in the neighbourhood.
Sigh.
Regardless of the cons, I'm nevertheless thankful for the location. I've friends who are posted to places that are really inconvenient and far. From Ang Mo Kio to Pasir Ris, for example. Or Bugis to Dover. They were lamenting about the long distance today. Me? All I've got to do is to cross the road, and ta-dah!
On a more serious note, I'm looking forward to the practicum. It'll be challenging, no doubt, but at least there'll be something new everyday! I like the interactive nature, as well as the dynamics, of it all.
Sure, there exists the ubiquitous comparison between good schools and bad schools; elite schools and neighbourhood schools. The two extreme ends of a spectrum.
But you know what I think? Good schools or bad schools, elite schools or neighbourhood ones - each of them bring about their own unique set of problems. The good schools probably have higher incidence of high-flier parents who are too busy to care about their kids. The neighbourhood schools probably have a bigger pie of rebellious and mischievous students with complicated family backgrounds.
Be it good schools or neighbourhood schools, It's the people - the staffs and the students - whom I'm there for. I'm not there for the rank. I don't know how long or how strong this resolution will hold into the future, but one thing that's for sure now: if there's one thing for me to take pride in, I would want it to be the people, the students, and the fighting spirit of a school; and not because a particular school has a good ranking or reputation.
Not all things can be measured - be it qualitatively or quantitatively.
Monday, 18 May 2009
THINK, BEFORE YOU THINK
Heard this from somewhere some months back, and it has stayed with me ever since. Like a leech. It is simple; but yet the truth it holds is tremendous.
"If you think about something enough, you'll soon start to believe in it."
I guess this - in one swift and efficient summary - underlies and highlights one of the foundational truths of all times: the power of thoughts.
We see what we expect to see. But more than that, what we envision in our mind - sooner or later - gets translated into reality.
If you think about something enough, you'll soon start to believe in it.
Therefore, think, before you think.
"If you think about something enough, you'll soon start to believe in it."
I guess this - in one swift and efficient summary - underlies and highlights one of the foundational truths of all times: the power of thoughts.
We see what we expect to see. But more than that, what we envision in our mind - sooner or later - gets translated into reality.
If you think about something enough, you'll soon start to believe in it.
Therefore, think, before you think.
BRACHYDACTYLY TYPE D
Had meant to post this up a couple of weeks back, but was too busy to.
Anyway, after living for going-on-to-23 years, I DISCOVERED something about myself which I've never know before.
BRACHYDACTYLY TYPE D. Yeah, now, finally, it has a name to it. BRACHYDACTYLY TYPE D. Also known as "clubbed thumb" or "toe thumb". AND MEGAN FOX has them, too!
It was a pure accidental discovery. I was searching the internet for information about genetics and inheritances, and stumbled upon this recessive trait by chance. I nearly gasped and concussed when I saw it. I was absolutely mortified, to say the least! THAT'S MY THUMB!!! Who took that picture?!
Anyway, finally, now I have a sound explanation as to why my thumbs look the way they do. And NO, opposed to the common myth (especially my parents!), it is NOT caused by excessive sucking of thumb. Clubbed thumb is just a recessive trait of genes - just like widow's peak and Morton's toe and tongue-rolling.
Apparently, clubbed thumb is relatively uncommon, found in around 1 in 1000. Majority only has it on only one thumb. And guess what? I've got TWO ugly ones. Centuries ago, clubbed thumb was associated with royalty. The European royalties used to marry within the royal family, and thus clubbed thumb has been associated with inbreeding amongst the European royalty. Clubbed thumb has been thought of as a sign of royal pure blood.
Who knows, maybe my great-great-great-great-great-great-great-grandfather used to be an European royalty. That makes me a great-great-great-great-great-great-great-grandprincess! Yeah, right.
I've always known my thumbs are much more smaller and fatter than the typical ones. Hey, at least it has never stopped or hindered me from typing, writing, or playing the guitar (I've got to admit though, bowling is a pain in the neck. I've got to up the weight by a notch as my clubbed thumb would get stuck in the finger hole).
Still, nevertheless, it's nice; knowing why my thumbs look they way they are. Suddenly, it gives an odd sense of association. And, frankly, I no longer feel so much of a misfit. To think that I was formerly under the mistakened impression that I'm the only living human alive to own such weird-looking thumbs, but hey! MEGAN FOX has them, too!!!
Anyway, after living for going-on-to-23 years, I DISCOVERED something about myself which I've never know before.
BRACHYDACTYLY TYPE D. Yeah, now, finally, it has a name to it. BRACHYDACTYLY TYPE D. Also known as "clubbed thumb" or "toe thumb". AND MEGAN FOX has them, too!
It was a pure accidental discovery. I was searching the internet for information about genetics and inheritances, and stumbled upon this recessive trait by chance. I nearly gasped and concussed when I saw it. I was absolutely mortified, to say the least! THAT'S MY THUMB!!! Who took that picture?!
Anyway, finally, now I have a sound explanation as to why my thumbs look the way they do. And NO, opposed to the common myth (especially my parents!), it is NOT caused by excessive sucking of thumb. Clubbed thumb is just a recessive trait of genes - just like widow's peak and Morton's toe and tongue-rolling.
Apparently, clubbed thumb is relatively uncommon, found in around 1 in 1000. Majority only has it on only one thumb. And guess what? I've got TWO ugly ones. Centuries ago, clubbed thumb was associated with royalty. The European royalties used to marry within the royal family, and thus clubbed thumb has been associated with inbreeding amongst the European royalty. Clubbed thumb has been thought of as a sign of royal pure blood.
Who knows, maybe my great-great-great-great-great-great-great-grandfather used to be an European royalty. That makes me a great-great-great-great-great-great-great-grandprincess! Yeah, right.
I've always known my thumbs are much more smaller and fatter than the typical ones. Hey, at least it has never stopped or hindered me from typing, writing, or playing the guitar (I've got to admit though, bowling is a pain in the neck. I've got to up the weight by a notch as my clubbed thumb would get stuck in the finger hole).
Still, nevertheless, it's nice; knowing why my thumbs look they way they are. Suddenly, it gives an odd sense of association. And, frankly, I no longer feel so much of a misfit. To think that I was formerly under the mistakened impression that I'm the only living human alive to own such weird-looking thumbs, but hey! MEGAN FOX has them, too!!!
Sunday, 17 May 2009
COMMENCEMENT
Just realized that the schedule for commencement ceremony is out. Mine would be in the afternoon on 8th July, which is a Wednesday. It so happens to be the second week into my teaching practicum as well! Oh!
Hope my presiding CT and HOD and P would be fine with letting me off for the day! But I wonder, would it leave a bad impression?
Hope my presiding CT and HOD and P would be fine with letting me off for the day! But I wonder, would it leave a bad impression?
ASSIGNMENTS
For the past hour, I had been surfing the internet intensively in search of a good educational website with sound creditability. Considering all the restrictions placed upon us, it's really a tall order to meet.
1) All of us are assigned a specific topic. This translates to a loss of freedom. (I'm given the topic on "Reproduction").
2) We are given a checklist of 25 items! (e.g. level of information, sufficiency of information, reliability of website, diagrams and charts, bibliography and citations, indications of last revised date, indications of whether the material is being kept current, verification of legitimacy, credentials of author(s), content impartiality, free of advertisement, ease of accessibility, quizzes, design layout etc)
3) We're NOT allowed to use the websites which were given by the previous 2 cohorts before us.
So many restrictions, how to find, you tell me? Already, meeting most of the 25 item requirements would be quite a headache. Throw in a specific, assigned topic and the limitation of websites to use, the end result? It's like searching for a needle in a haystack!
Okay okay, to be fair, I have to admit this is a good exercise. It teaches us to discriminate information and to evaluate the reliability of internet resources - least we misguide the innocent young.
While searching for a good website, I typed in "human reproduction" in Yahoo! search. Momentarily, I mused would the search engine results reflect pornography site links.
Anyway, I was evaluating one of the websites when I noticed something interesting.
Didn't know all of us used to look like ikan bilis! Oh my goodness...
P.S. Nah, no pornographic link came up!
1) All of us are assigned a specific topic. This translates to a loss of freedom. (I'm given the topic on "Reproduction").
2) We are given a checklist of 25 items! (e.g. level of information, sufficiency of information, reliability of website, diagrams and charts, bibliography and citations, indications of last revised date, indications of whether the material is being kept current, verification of legitimacy, credentials of author(s), content impartiality, free of advertisement, ease of accessibility, quizzes, design layout etc)
3) We're NOT allowed to use the websites which were given by the previous 2 cohorts before us.
So many restrictions, how to find, you tell me? Already, meeting most of the 25 item requirements would be quite a headache. Throw in a specific, assigned topic and the limitation of websites to use, the end result? It's like searching for a needle in a haystack!
Okay okay, to be fair, I have to admit this is a good exercise. It teaches us to discriminate information and to evaluate the reliability of internet resources - least we misguide the innocent young.
While searching for a good website, I typed in "human reproduction" in Yahoo! search. Momentarily, I mused would the search engine results reflect pornography site links.
Anyway, I was evaluating one of the websites when I noticed something interesting.
Didn't know all of us used to look like ikan bilis! Oh my goodness...
P.S. Nah, no pornographic link came up!
Thursday, 14 May 2009
Monday, 11 May 2009
CONCENTRATE
2 MTs, 1 LP, 1 report, and 1 presentation for this week.
Get your act together and CONCENTRATE!
Get your act together and CONCENTRATE!
Sunday, 10 May 2009
CUTE
Came across this in a friend's Facebook, as one of her favourite quotes:
May those who love us love us
And to those who don't love us
May God turn their hearts
And if He doesn't turn their hearts
May He turn their ankles
So we'll know them by their limping
Haha. I find this simple, genuine, unpretentious, and yet funny. All mixed into one.
_______________________________________________
Anyway, like, finally, it is arriving soon! GOSH!
May those who love us love us
And to those who don't love us
May God turn their hearts
And if He doesn't turn their hearts
May He turn their ankles
So we'll know them by their limping
Haha. I find this simple, genuine, unpretentious, and yet funny. All mixed into one.
_______________________________________________
Anyway, like, finally, it is arriving soon! GOSH!
Friday, 8 May 2009
THE WEDDING
CONGRATULATIONS TO THE NEWLY-WEDS! Woot!
There's always something magical about weddings. I sooo love to attend weddings! There's just something in the atmosphere which cannot be found elsewhere!
Anyway,photos pictures speak a thousand words.
The cute lil' pageboy who charmed us all ladies!!!
Awww...
THE NIGHT BEFORE THE MATRIMONY
THE MATRIMONY
ALL men look mightily charming in suit and blazer. Yes, even little pageboys.
The flower girl looks TERRIFIED!
Classic.
THE DINNER
Two hardworking receptionists.
Ok, one of them is not THAT serious. Say, cheese! SMILE!
Actually, both are not THAT serious - at times. Haha!
Love is in the air!
Who's the one who unintentionally stole the limelight? No prize for guessing right. YH!!!
Why you take my picture?! You tell me?! Tell me?! WHY YOU TAKE MY PICTURE, HUH?!
In the mood for love!
One narcissist person, one hungry person, and one _____ person. I can't think now. Fill in the blank as you please.
A table photo! One of the last photos the groom took before he got sloshed with alcohol by his entourage!
YA-AAAMMMM SEEEAA-EENNGGG!!!
I like this photo!
There's always something magical about weddings. I sooo love to attend weddings! There's just something in the atmosphere which cannot be found elsewhere!
Anyway,
TWO DAYS BEFORE THE MATRIMONY
Act guai.
Act cool.
Act guai.
Act cool.
The cute lil' pageboy who charmed us all ladies!!!
Awww...THE NIGHT BEFORE THE MATRIMONY
THE MATRIMONY
ALL men look mightily charming in suit and blazer. Yes, even little pageboys.
The flower girl looks TERRIFIED!
Classic.
THE DINNER
Two hardworking receptionists.
Ok, one of them is not THAT serious. Say, cheese! SMILE!
Actually, both are not THAT serious - at times. Haha!
Love is in the air!
Who's the one who unintentionally stole the limelight? No prize for guessing right. YH!!!
Why you take my picture?! You tell me?! Tell me?! WHY YOU TAKE MY PICTURE, HUH?!
In the mood for love!
One narcissist person, one hungry person, and one _____ person. I can't think now. Fill in the blank as you please.
A table photo! One of the last photos the groom took before he got sloshed with alcohol by his entourage!
YA-AAAMMMM SEEEAA-EENNGGG!!!
I like this photo!Thursday, 7 May 2009
ERM...
This was shown by one of the groups doing their Biology presentation yesterday.
Call me mountain tortoise, but this is really the first time I'm watching any video/animation of this kind.
It seriously looks painfully. Although it's just an animation, it's still OUCH! to watch. It makes one cringe in the seat. Okie, I know it's supposed to be painful, but this? Oh my. Thank goodness I'm still young and healthy. If I'm, like, you know, 35-year-old (HIGH-RISK PREGNANCY!) and unmarried, or have no children, or am not yet done with building my own family, and so happened to watch this video, think my knees will go weak or something.
Call me mountain tortoise, but this is really the first time I'm watching any video/animation of this kind.
It seriously looks painfully. Although it's just an animation, it's still OUCH! to watch. It makes one cringe in the seat. Okie, I know it's supposed to be painful, but this? Oh my. Thank goodness I'm still young and healthy. If I'm, like, you know, 35-year-old (HIGH-RISK PREGNANCY!) and unmarried, or have no children, or am not yet done with building my own family, and so happened to watch this video, think my knees will go weak or something.
Friday, 1 May 2009
BERI BERI GOOD
Have been researching on this certain Dutch physician who was awarded a Nobel Prize in Physiology and Medicine in 1929 at the age of 81 - Dr. Christiaan Eijkman. He is the dude who - while attempting to determine the cause of Beriberi - eventually discovered vitamins.
Prior to his discovery, Louis Pasteur's and Robert Koch's Germ Theory was the dominant train of thought then. Almost all physicians and scientists worldwide believed that all diseases are caused by certain types of bacterium or germs. The same goes with Beriberi.
Like all scientists and physicians before him, Eijkman also tried to isolate the cause of Beriberi. He examined blood samples, body fluids and etc; but all were futile. It was also Eijkman who, after numberous frustrating attempts to isolate the bacteria that supposedly causes Beriberi but repeatedly failed to do so, thought out of the box.
By a stroke of luck, he discovered that something in rice brans helps to prevent Beriberi. He confirmed his findings by carrying out experiments using chickens. Almost at will, he was able to easily inflict Beriberi on whichever chickens he wishes - simply by controlling their diet: brown unpolished rice (i.e. rice with husk) verses white polished rice. (Isn't it amazing? The power of something which appears so seemingly trivial? I guess this underlines one of the basic, foundational principles: whatever that goes in, comes out. What goes in determines what comes out. Input relates to output.)
He concluded and postulated that rather than germs, could it be that there is something missing which is essential to the proper functioning of the human body? Rather than being parasitic, could Beriberi be caused as a result of a deficiency of this essential "substance"?
This idea was something "new" and "novel" back then. Unfortunately, his findings were met with skepticm and controversy; and all other scientists/physicians scoffed at his suggestion. The Germ Theory was just too dominant back in the old days. In addition, it did very well in explaining the cause of many diseases. The thought of Beriberi not caused by germ/bacteria was something out of the world, or so it seemed.
Anyway, I find this Eijkman guy pretty amazing.
For one, he thought out of the box. Unlike other physicians, when the primary idea doesn't work, Eijkman sourced for an alternative one. He was open-minded. Relentless. Persistent.
Secondly, despite the norm belief of Germ Theory, Eijkman's mind was flexible. He was not rigid. In a way, to put it in today's context, he believed that "one size doesn't fit all". He was flexible in his approach and mindset.
Thirdly, he stood by what he believed. A thousand and one physicians/scientists mistakenly believed in the wrong thing, but Eijkman - in the face of an army of opposition - dared to go against it. Despite the ridicule when he presented his findings, he did not doubt himself and his work. He knows what is good, and while so many more prominent physicians or scientists worldwide around him say otherwise, he still stood by it. No one supported him, but yet he still trusted his foresight and guts. He saw deeper than what logic tells him. He saw, he knew, he defended, he believed, he invested, and he waited. And what he believed in yielded fruits.
Finally, after years and years of failure in finding the cause of Beriberi, Eijkman's theory finally got accepted. More intensive researches and experiments were carried out by others, and his findings appeared to be heading in the right direction. It was then accepted that Beriberi is not caused by germs/bacteria, but due to something missing in the diet - and this essential substance was coined "vital amine". A chemist later shortened it to "vitamins".
And Eijkman? His theory triumphed in the end. One year before his death in 1930, he got his Nobel prize. 36 donkey years after he first made his discovery.
Prior to his discovery, Louis Pasteur's and Robert Koch's Germ Theory was the dominant train of thought then. Almost all physicians and scientists worldwide believed that all diseases are caused by certain types of bacterium or germs. The same goes with Beriberi.
Like all scientists and physicians before him, Eijkman also tried to isolate the cause of Beriberi. He examined blood samples, body fluids and etc; but all were futile. It was also Eijkman who, after numberous frustrating attempts to isolate the bacteria that supposedly causes Beriberi but repeatedly failed to do so, thought out of the box.
By a stroke of luck, he discovered that something in rice brans helps to prevent Beriberi. He confirmed his findings by carrying out experiments using chickens. Almost at will, he was able to easily inflict Beriberi on whichever chickens he wishes - simply by controlling their diet: brown unpolished rice (i.e. rice with husk) verses white polished rice. (Isn't it amazing? The power of something which appears so seemingly trivial? I guess this underlines one of the basic, foundational principles: whatever that goes in, comes out. What goes in determines what comes out. Input relates to output.)
He concluded and postulated that rather than germs, could it be that there is something missing which is essential to the proper functioning of the human body? Rather than being parasitic, could Beriberi be caused as a result of a deficiency of this essential "substance"?
This idea was something "new" and "novel" back then. Unfortunately, his findings were met with skepticm and controversy; and all other scientists/physicians scoffed at his suggestion. The Germ Theory was just too dominant back in the old days. In addition, it did very well in explaining the cause of many diseases. The thought of Beriberi not caused by germ/bacteria was something out of the world, or so it seemed.
Anyway, I find this Eijkman guy pretty amazing.
For one, he thought out of the box. Unlike other physicians, when the primary idea doesn't work, Eijkman sourced for an alternative one. He was open-minded. Relentless. Persistent.
Secondly, despite the norm belief of Germ Theory, Eijkman's mind was flexible. He was not rigid. In a way, to put it in today's context, he believed that "one size doesn't fit all". He was flexible in his approach and mindset.
Thirdly, he stood by what he believed. A thousand and one physicians/scientists mistakenly believed in the wrong thing, but Eijkman - in the face of an army of opposition - dared to go against it. Despite the ridicule when he presented his findings, he did not doubt himself and his work. He knows what is good, and while so many more prominent physicians or scientists worldwide around him say otherwise, he still stood by it. No one supported him, but yet he still trusted his foresight and guts. He saw deeper than what logic tells him. He saw, he knew, he defended, he believed, he invested, and he waited. And what he believed in yielded fruits.
Finally, after years and years of failure in finding the cause of Beriberi, Eijkman's theory finally got accepted. More intensive researches and experiments were carried out by others, and his findings appeared to be heading in the right direction. It was then accepted that Beriberi is not caused by germs/bacteria, but due to something missing in the diet - and this essential substance was coined "vital amine". A chemist later shortened it to "vitamins".
And Eijkman? His theory triumphed in the end. One year before his death in 1930, he got his Nobel prize. 36 donkey years after he first made his discovery.
Subscribe to:
Comments (Atom)
Posts
