Minesweeper

Everyone probably knows what the Minesweeper game is, but how many would really find it an interesting game to play? or rather, how many would even bother opening that application which is ubiquitously found in most Windows OS?

It is such a simple game that it doesnt require a speedy graphic video card, nor a boost in the audio system. It doesnt demand an incredibly high RAM, nor does it occupy even a gig of your space! It's so modest a game, that you prolly need only a good working mouse to play it, and a wee bit of common sense, of course!

To me, it is not just a game that is located in the Start --> All Programs --> Games. In fact, it is another of my favourite childhood games which can get me addicted to the PC for hours long. Even though the presentation of the game is plain and non-decorative, I actually find it a mind-boggling puzzle game!

The rule of thumb in this game? Very simple - the number in a square tells you how many mines there are adjacent to that square. We have to use some Mathematics to play it. I still remember how teachers in Convent taught us the "P if and only if Q" and the "Kebarangkalian" concepts, and that was how i found my love in this simple game. So, it is actually the 'Probability and Logic' game - u get the idea!

Perhaps, finding pleasure in simple things is just my cup of tea. While other teens of my age might be frenzied over games like DOTA, RA, Warcraft and so forth, but i somehow turned myself into a Minesweeper addict when i was still in school.

I stopped playing the game for quite a while now, but after watching the trailer "Minesweeper, the Movie" (thanks, my dear chicken-back-side!), it really makes me recall how much i used to love it, playing again and again just to beat my own high score. It's okay if everyone thinks that it's an old-boring-classic game, but this so-called trailer is definitely bringing the game to live!

Now if i were to play Minesweeper again, i would imagine myself as a real minesweeper - wearing those gung-ho outfits, standing on those grids with mines underneath. Imagining myself planting the flags, anticipating explosions, and the whole shebang! How cool is that!?

My grandmother's wooden clogs

I live in an old townhouse built during the colonial times. I live with my grandmother. I take pride in a lot of things which portray our local culture in this heritage-old house. That includes my grandmother's wooden clogs.

Sometimes, I love to roam around the house in her clogs when she's not around. I love the clattering sounds made by the clogs against the ground each time i make a step. I love the weight of the wooden-soled clogs as i lift my feet up everytime. I love the feel of the smoothened texture of the wood on my sole.

There was once when i quietly wore my grandmother's clogs again when she was watching tv upstairs. She came downstairs after her tv show, and she must have searched high and low for her clogs! The obnoxious part of me was not aware because my feet must have felt so comfortable in her pair. I really forgot the fact that i have deprived her of her clogs.

She didnt asked me for her clogs, instead she just let me continue wearing them. She discreetly took a new pair of clogs from her cupboard, and she started taking out a knife. I was shocked when i saw her using the knife, and i instantenously asked her "Ma, what are you doing!!??"

She replied, "Don't worry, just go ahead wearing the clogs.. I'll use these new clogs, but i need to resurface it first"..

though i didnt understand what she meant by resurfacing with a knife, but i really felt so sorry for her. She looked delicate (and she has shaking hands and weak osteoarthritic knees), i really felt so bad. in fact, I silently scolded myself for wearing her clogs. I went bare-footed, and i fitted her feet into the warm clogs from my feet. I reminded her not to use the knife anymore for any reason. I couldnt have forgiven myself if my grandmother really started using the knife in whatever way.

I think i should start getting myself a pair of wooden clogs and start wearing them. By the time i reach my grandmother's age (and if the clogs are still not worn out), they will be as smooth as that of my grandmother's! At that time, i can live to tell a tale to my grandchildren that my grandmother used the exact same kind of shoes once upon a time.

A gleam of hope

-London's British Museum Nov '07-

Monday blues, and if that's what you are feeling right now, go to the mirror, and convince yourself that there is always a gleam of hope somewhere!

This is specially dedicated to a person so dear to me, i know she will soon be able to overcome all obstacles she has to face right now. i don't mean this as a post-secret kind of thing, but i well knew that she may not bump into this thing anytime now or soon.

Just my way of showing how much i love her.

Someone from high school

I saw her once at the psychiatric clinic a few months ago. At that time, i was following my senior pharmacist to learn more about discharge dispensing for psychiatric outpatients.

I was about to introduce my name to her, thinking that she may not have remembered so many names from school. but I was surprised when she called me by my name - she even remembered my full name!! I wondered why she visited the psychiatric clinic, she told me that she was under follow-up at the clinic. Of course, I was caught by surprise again - I'm not sure if she was on any medication, but it seemed like she was.

It was just last week, when i bumped into her again at the medical ward. She was at the entrance of the building, and she seemed as though she was lost! I greeted her, and I asked where she was heading to. She was looking anxious and tensed, and she told me one of her relatives just got admitted to the ward, but she wasnt sure which ward was it. She wasnt even sure which floor of the entire building to go to!

I asked her for the relative's particulars, made a call or two, and finally we managed to trace the ward the relative was admitted to. I could see how her face lighted up immediately when she saw the familiar face of her relative in the ward. It was a refreshing scene, at least to me.

She was my Pendidikan Jasmani teacher back in high school. And she taught me only for one month. Thank you for remembering my full name, that shows to me how a teacher really cares for her students.

I hope and pray that her relative is getting well by now.

das Paar der Rosen

Finely carved, they seem so rare,
On two lean stalks, they make a pair;
An exquisite beauty, they seem to bear,
With glistening silver, which makes them flare.
.

just another day, now.

a second,
a minute,
an hour,
and then a day goes by.
It's 11th again today.

I can lie to the whole world,
but at the end of the day,
i cant do it to myself.

4 ways to kill a mood

4 ways to kill a mood on a Monday (The Chinese believe the disastrous figure 4 anyway!):

• a mid-week presentation (and another presentation 8 days later, also unprepared yet)

• stepping into a puddle of water accidentally ( in my favourite shoes, sobs! )

• to be splashed with unexpected murky water from the ceiling (not drops of it, but gallons!)

• going to work on a Tuesday only to see a whole messy workplace (and having to clean them up)!

Period.

Splashing Monday!

Splash splash splash
It came in a flash!
Haste haste haste
I've no time to waste!

from pill-free to half a dozen of medications

I could sense that she was worried from her creased face. Her husband has just survived from an unexpected myocardial infarction, and that afternoon, in the pharmacy, she sat right in front of me to collect her husband's discharge medications.

The body of the prescription was penned with a long list of medications. When I started explaining to her each of the medications the husband is to take, the frail lady did try to digest, understand and remember everything. But I decided not to go on - I asked her if I could speak to the husband directly.

5 minutes later, the husband was escorted into the pharmacy. There were a few other in-patients waiting for their medications to be dispensed at the same time, but I didn't want to rush through the discharge counselling with this particular man.

I asked for his name, and led a casual conversation. I learnt that he's working in a farm, and he has previously no known health problems - he doesnt even know the taste of taking medications every day in his entire life.

Looking at the bag of medications on the table, it was pretty tough at first to explain to him that he has to be on those pills e-v-e-r-y-d-a-y from that day onwards. I had to make him understand the indication of each medication. I had to explain the dosage and administration. I had to make him aware of the possible side effects. And most importantly, I had to make him understand why he has to comply to all his medications.

For someone like me who even refused to take a pill when i have a headache, pain or a mild fever, I can easily understand how the man felt upon seeing those medications. To be bound to one medication is already a scare to some patients, what more to consume half a dozen of those coloured pills everyday after a course of hospitalisation.

It is really a daunting daily task, because for every pill that a patient is taking, it makes the person feels that he or she is aging 5 years older.