Sunday, October 31, 2010


image I heard it for the first time not from books that i read. Not from the dictionary and neither from the TV. But from a lecturer, My English  matriculation lecturer. we were struggling doing our mock English oral examination for MUET. It was the most dreadful University English Test ever to most Malay speaking Malaysians because this test involves actual speaking/discussing to one another. There were 4 of us in a group and Miss Norimah was observing us for the entire 10 minutes. topics were given at the start of the test and we all must talk about the given topics in that 10 minutes time. missing a topic means a severe deduction in points. image
I figured, to maximize the group points, someone will need to steer the discussion to a certain direction so that all topics are covered. And I naturally took the lead after seeing for the first 1 minute that my 3 other group members were having difficulty to organize what to talk. the discussion went ok, I think. not marvellous, just OK. but Miss Norimah also told me that I was very committed. A blah word at that time because I really didn’t know what it means in relation to the ten-minute-group-discussion that we just had.
Looking at my confusion, she explained. “I said, you were very committed at controlling the group so that everyone gets their chance to talk and get a point,”  
image I looked at her, feeling more confused. “But Miss, of course I’d do that, if not we’d lose points.”
She smiled and explained again, “Well, most people are for themselves. they’d just talk uninterruptedly for ten minutes and steal all the points, leaving the others scoring a zero. Well done! You can go back to your place.”
i heard it so many times after that. probably a very common description people said about me.
I am never a funny person, never the person people would ask to go out having a laugh with, never the person you see as the heart of the party. I am just committed…
So, no matter how hard it will be, facing the person that broke my heart on weekly basis, I will be committed to my PhD support group from now on. Especially after looking at Suhaili and Kak Faizah cried last Friday (it was probably the first time I saw them cry, ever!). Pity them, no doubt personal problems are creeping into their professional lives too. they must hate it when that happened, as do I.
I feel sorry for them. I was selfish. but now I am… committed. =)

Friday, October 29, 2010

Sometimes, the right (best) thing to do is to let go.

image I have been engaging my self with bucket loads of thinking lately. With a lot of thinking comes very little literature reading and writing and that really annoy me. nothing annoys me more than a personal problem that creeps itself into my professional life. Utterly unacceptable. But, I am only human. sometimes, my less than perfect human brain could only handle one world problem at a time.image
I love my PhD support group because it helps to keep me on track with my PhD, being with fellow Muslim Malaysian keeps me more grounded, and just the idea of regular meetings with friends makes the week feels more bearable. Not that my every week as a PhD student had been awful, everyday is awesome in room 2.3.6, but it gets “awesomer” if there is a PhD support group at the end of each week. It is difficult to understand why I like such meetings so much, but I do..I really do.
Loving it does not make it any easier. not one bit. (swallowed some sadness…) But after careful thinking, for our own benefits (or perhaps just mine… ), I made the decision to withdraw from the group. Although it is not possible to expect a reaction (I thank MJ for this lovely quote), I kind of already knew how I would react to being in the same group with this person who shattered my heart to pieces. I don’t hate her, I am obviously not angry at her. I am just E x t r e m e l y (with a capital “E”) disappointed. Upon mentioning her name, I feel like crying. So how functional will I be, really in a PhD support group if me, the “leader” wants to cry all the time? 
No one could imagine how devastating it is for me. but then, you can argue that Intan is just too carried away with her emotions. But have you seen me cry? no one has. Have you seen me talking about it to everyone all the time? hardly. But I should tell you dear unexisting readers, that I have cried so many many times over this.
In ANHB bathroom, check.
In my bathroom, check.
In the animal house, check.
In ANHB memorial garden, check.
and not to forget, silently in my heart all the time, check.
now, check.
image Crying obviously does not make anything any better. but in my defence it helps me to make an informed choice. the choices are, (one) whether I could be the bigger person, to forgive and forget and to move on with my life, pretending as though nothing ever happened.. or (two) mend my heartbreak, by minimizing contact, increase focus on my research and channel my constant desire to do good to someone else. Someone who would not break my heart. or have less possibility to do so, like the orphans in Somalia, or hungry people of Cambodia etc, etc.
I don’t discuss my feelings to people. because mom said, “Who would like to hear stories about your petty feelings?” She was right. She always is. (suddenly another warm tears bud at the corner of my lateral canthuses). I always believe that by crying you take some of the emotional burden off. but it doesn’t seem to happen for me yet. May be that’s why choosing option two is the right (best) thing to do.
May Allah give me strength to go through all these.
I try to be a good person, but may be I am just not good enough.
I try to be a strong person, but this time I am just not strong enough.
till then,

Wednesday, October 27, 2010

major changes

iphone1 me, writing my blog everyday is not a good sign. it literally screams emotional instability. but since this is the place where ideas and emotions interact.. then I assume, it is not an offense to write as much as I want as long as my thesis is not neglected.
yesterday I had a meeting with my supervisor. MJ said talking to him, even a casual chat… can change your whole life (PhD wise) 360 degrees around. And she was abso-freaking-lutely right. now that my big programming study is underway, lacking the very important aspect of novelty in it, he suggested that “why don’t we do a circadian analysis as well? I heard something about it in some conference I went to sometimes ago.”
and I nodded yes like my neck was made of BedShed mattress’s spring. Yes, of course it is going to complicate things…especially with the 4 collection time points. (and somehow I sensed an aura of extreme dread in the air coming from the people around me in an instant)… but it made my PhD much more MEANINGFUL. I am not just another student replicating the Seckle group’s experimental model. I actually have something novel to present to the world now. AND THAT IS VERY IMPORTANT TO ME.iphone-wallpapers-cute-girl-05
so other than the fact that someone broke my heart and I am making all excuses to minimize contact with this person, I actually have a STRONG, LEGITIMATE reason to withdraw myself from group activities that involve her. SWEET. It all works out to my favour. yeay for Intan!
shouldn’t I be a bit more secretive about this person’s identity? Nah… the entire population in room 2.3.6 knows about it. I bet with clever guessing you’ll know who she is very2 soon.
No one is an island. every so often you’ll need friends and support from people who cares for you. But back stabbers are really not in my list of good friends. everyone else are, everyone else in my previous PhD support group are…except one. but I can’t bear to see her face again that’s why i need to withdraw myself from the group. You wouldn’t want me to be in that group anyway because I can only mask this overbearing disappointment for a couple of meetings may be..and  pretty soon I might break down and who knows what I’d do. slap someone on the face perhaps.. now, that would be very2 nice indeed. =). tempting…
cupcakes So life resumes as it should. all careful break-up plans are also underway. MISCHIEVIOUS..I know.
In the midst of all these, I realize that despite extreme loathing to her actions towards me, there is no way that I would go that low to her levels to get back at her. no point, really. In fact, I don’t even care to sit down and explain to her. too tired for that. most people say that me not telling is the reason why they do not know how I feel. they may not do it if they knew I will be so upset about it. but I am not good at discussing because, I can not control my hands. sometimes they tend to slap people very fast.

Tuesday, October 26, 2010

Sometimes, you have to swallow the medicine even if it is bitter. But at all times, never swallow a poison even if it is sweet and coated with chocolate. That is just good sense.

Sometimes, you have to swallow the medicine even if it is bitter. But at all times, never swallow a poison even if it is sweet and coated with chocolate. That is just good sense.

Even a war strickened country can bounce back on its feet, therefore, so do I. So do I. Today is Tuesday. My feeling is generally a bit upset from finding out that there was a big samurai knife being plunged at my back... Cordially being put there by a good old girlfriend. Owh the feeling. Nothing compares.

Presently, i tried my best to deviate away from talking, discussing or thinking about it. But meh.. Who am i kidding? I kept on thinking about it and in fact had already made some life changing decisions with regards to the matter in question.

Agree to complicate my research with circadian analysis, check.
Withdraw myself from phd support group, check.
Pretend that i am ok, check.
Cry my heart out at night, erm..check.

So let me check that cry my heart out box tonight. I'm off to take a slumber. Hopefully tomorrow i will wake up feeling refreshed and unaffected by this megaextreme dissappointment.


- Posted using BlogPress from my iPad

Monday, October 25, 2010

Please, I don’t want to see you again…

I have just turned 28 few days ago. the birthday celebration was lovely. We (Suhaili, Hubby & Me) went to Takaza for dinner. We ordered a massive amount of food. we were too full by the end of the meal, I barely ate my spaghetti carbonara… to make way for the heavenly chocolate lava. But at least I felt less guilty for the wasted food coz hubby helped me finished all the bacon (halaal bacon, of course).
So I am officially 28 now. An adult, married and matured. At this age I expect that I would see less and less of opportunists, back stabbers and pure evil hearted people because those are all immature, childish personalities. But at 28, I never thought that I could still be so naive. those characteristics does not mature with age, if ever, they only got worst. Enough said, only one day after turning 28 I met with the very person that should really, for the lack of better word; rot in hell.
what did he do? you might ask.. he? no, it’s a she. She lied (well who doesn’t), but she lied when it is against her belief to lie. She manipulated me when it is against her belief to manipulate. She took advantage of me who happily called my self her friend, when it is against her belief to take advantage on people. And most of all, she betrayed me. not once, but twice. how could I still befriends with this person, I am still puzzled. may be, I do have a soft spot for her. but, now that I know what kind of person, this girl is. I should really start avoiding her.
Because surprisingly, I am not angry at all.
If anything, I am extremely disappointed.
In fact, I am really devastated.
IMG_1133You would think that people whom you helped would remember your kindness.Nah… they just don’t. well, I am not generalizing. But this one particular person, just don’t. so I have only one thing left to say. Please, I don’t want to see you anymore. you know who you are, and I bet you also know what you did. till then,
May Allah guide both you and me to be better persons… in our own separate ways. I know I will find a way to forgive you, but not now while I am still so heartbroken.
P/S: Suhaili baked an awesome chocolate cake yesterday… in conjunction with my birthday, I presumed. It was the best birthday cake ever! should really get the recipe. love it so much.

Friday, October 15, 2010

~ Your blog is your unedited version of yourself. ~

~ Your blog is your unedited version of yourself. ~ Lorelle

Due to certain living circumstances, such as staying in a distant country, not in immediate contact with my besties and my sister, the highly expensive cost of calling back to Malaysia and the fact that emails hardly get immediate reply anymore, a very expressive person like me, who have a constant need to report the day back to someone else just so that I can get it out of my system and move on therefore, had to resort to blogging.

Forgive me if I am too direct in my blog. I usually am not. I just think that if i switch-on that editing freak that I am, firstly I will never get to publish anything until my entries are perfect, which none of them are. Secondly, it takes away the joy of blogging, which is to tell more about you, your life and your thingking process...

And thirdly, extensive editing...really? It is just tiring. Enough with having to edit my thesis and other people's written work, I just want to free write and enjoy the act of writing for once.

So yeah, in my blog I am honest. So pardon me if some of my writings made you feel judged or are sarcastic or is a slap on the face, because they are just letters, arranged into words and structured into sentences. For all you know, they might not be relevant at all. =^.^=

I use everyday things, everyday people, newspaper articles, and my own fascination to get that writing muscles working. You might already be in my blog, with different names or just your initials. Or you might be in here someday.

Till then,

- Posted using BlogPress from my iPad

Thursday, October 14, 2010

“Your profession is not what brings home your paycheck. Your profession is what you were put on earth to do. With such passion and such intensity that it becomes spiritual in calling."

“Your profession is not what brings home your paycheck. Your profession is what you were put on earth to do. With such passion and such intensity that it becomes spiritual in calling.”

Well, you know me, I would never agree that one's passion for his or her profession should become spiritual in calling. But I do agree that passion put things into perspective, makes it much easier to wake up in the morning and harder to sleep at night from the anticipation of tomorrows work.

I quote Saiful Nang, a very famous Malaysian professional photographer, that only 5% of the people in the world actually love what they do. The remaining 95% only work for the sake of the paycheck...and also how lucky he felt to be one of that 5%.

That is exactly how I feel with teaching. I have always known that I would teach in the future. At school, I made extra effort to understand the subjects so that I could teach it to somebody. I had the biggest study group of 11 people when I was in uni and I actually spent everyday teaching and sharing informations with my friends. My third year juniors scheduled classes with me during my final year and I remembered actually loving every single moment of teaching them. Not a moment that I felt like I HAD to do it. Not a moment that I felt the time was dragging very slowly when I teach. If anything, time feels like flying in every class that I attend as a teacher/lecturer/tutor.

I thank Allah for bringing me to this path. That dreadful feeling that "something is missing" that I had been having ever since graduation has now vanished forever. I am now in the field made for me. A field where I have no fear to become myself, where I can fluorish and blossom as a person. Now I can understand why Saiful Nang felt so blessed for being able to get paid doing something that he loves, because I can too.

Educators at tertiery centers get paid several magnitudes higher than those in primary and secondary schools. Shame on the government for overlooking the important roles of these equally passionate teachers. But I stand tall with them sharing our same passion for teaching. Double doctor or not. =^.^=

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Location:University of Western Australia

Wednesday, October 13, 2010

The best dream…

Imagine your best dream. Your favourite music is playing softly at the background.
You are wearing all white, with a long flowy skirt and an intricately embroidered veil.
A bouquet of fresh pink flowers kept neatly in place by a delicate white ribbon,
and that haute couture glittery shoes that make you feel like a real princess..
Seal that dream with the perfect princess cut solitaire diamond ring… and all your previous nightmare seemed to be washed away by this one very pretty dream.
Today I am going to share with you my best dream. Believe it or not, I had it last night.
In my dream, I was on my entrance to the Baitullah. There were a lot of people walking pass me, all in a hurry wanting to get to the first “saf”, the closest to the “kaabah”.  And in all of the confusion of how did I get there, the crowd behind me sort of pushing me forward and soon I was in the first saf.
I couldn’t remember the dream down to the finer details. but that is enough to keep me smiling all throughout the day today. when I woke up, I made a wish that someday, Allah will grant me my wish to go there. InsyaAllah, soon…ameen.  

Sunday, October 10, 2010

Of fire and friend

Last Thursday ceased to be an average Thursday for me. Early in the morning, I received a frantic message from a friend asking to call her back, there was an emergency...she said. I guess there was something wrong with my thinking process during that time because I honestly believed that her emergency was at the most will be a lab machine broke down or her cultured cells died.. Something that are considerably disappointing in the research community but were deemed greatly trivial in comparison to what actually happened.

Her house caught fire. Better yet, she had just escaped a near death experience form a fire.

When she said that over the phone, it was extremely hard to register it in my mind. A house caught fire? Is this real life? Or am I still dreaming? Fires are the stuffs you hear in the news... Not the kind of thing you hear from a person from the other end of the line!

Although it was still hard to make sense, I hurriedly went to see how she was doing. Upon approaching, the smell of burnt wood greeted both my husband and I. It was repelling but sad at the same times. A fire has just died. And along with it are the things it consumed while it was alive. Luckily no one was seriously injured. Like any fire scene I occasionally observed in Malaysia, neighbours usually stay for quite some times to help the unfortunate victims to get back on their feet. Usually there will be donations of food, clothing and money. Those who do not have anything to give will at least offer help and shelter..

Freakishly weird, the place of incident was quiet and still. There was no one except the three girls that were shaken by what happened, busy cleaning the place out. They had just been evicted from the premise. I pity them. For fire victims who had just escaped death, with no relative around for them to turn to for help and having loss so many things during the disaster, and no place to stay for the night, no one was there to comfort them. ABSOLUTELY NO ONE!

And that, had no doubt made them (and me) miss Malaysia even more. A hard life, just got harder. The stone hard, icy cold, hollow chested and dry-vein Edward Cullen would have shown more emotions than the community of Hollywood court. But what can I say? We are living in a materialistic world. If we do not pose any significant importance to the community then we are as good as invincible. And not trying to be narrow minded or anything, but may be their headscarfs had been doing the talking for far too long. Tell me that I am wrong.

I have in one of my rooms, one of the girl victim. If you do not think that it was her headscarf that made her feel abandon in a community of Islam minority, what else? What ever happened to "do good to your neighbour?"

Pretty intense emotion there, Intan..calm down.

Here are the pictures of the house. I couldn't take more because they were busy cleaning then..

Alhamdulillah, everyone managed to get a temporary accommodation from the caring Malaysian community around the area, until they find a new place to call home.

- Posted using BlogPress from my iPad

Location:Hollywood court, Monash avenue,nedlands

Thursday, October 7, 2010

"All that I hope is for you to get better, and then she cried..."

In a room full of twenty something girls, discussing about boyfriends, mensies, PMS, and naughty dreams are inevitable. So does the discussion about PAP smear results.

Have you had an abnormal pap smear result before? What did they asked you to do? Come in 6 months? Biopsy? It IS a major pain in the buttski to have to go for pap smears every so often don't you think so? To schedule the once a year appointment is already a hassle, let alone twice. So,I can imagine why people would complaint about it.

But before I proceed, let me introduce you to Natassha. She is a girl from my past, when I was working in a big hospital wearing fancy white coats with stethoscope hanging on my neck and the all so important pager in my pocket. That was when I met Natassha. I was 24 and she was 28 then...the age that I am going to turn to on Oct 22nd this year.

Natassha had 2 children, a 1 and a half year old Ayesha and a 4-month-old little boy Areef who was barely weaned from the bottle. Because we were almost the same age, we became instant friends. With me being the friendly doctor and her being the end stage cervical cancer patient coming for follow up.

Other than that typical old scarf covering her obviously bald head, no doubt coming from vigourous chemo regimes, Natassha was a happy, positive young woman. Tall and slightly thin, as many other chemo patients I have seen... She would have looked breathe takingly beautiful if not for her pair of tired eyes. I always wondered, did she cry the whole night last night? She didn't seem like someone who would least not in front of others.

And maybe I was right.

I met her several times that month. She had weekly follow up then due to the extensiveness of her disease. When I first met her in the specialist clinic, I judged her. "She could be promiscuous because everyone knows that cervical cancer is a disease spread mainly by sexual intercourse. You must be extremely unlucky to contract the disease just from the one partner that you have.... I wondered, whether the husband knew about this before he married her? Slut!!! Huh, me and my glorious code of conduct. Give her a break. Get to know her first," I thought.

And I was dead wrong.

Like me, she married her husband at a relatively young age of 21.he was her first love. They were highschool sweethearts. They were busy studying and therefore had to postpone starting a family. Right after uni, she got a steady job as an engineer and few years later got Ayesha. While she was still nursing Ayesha, she was confirmed to be pregnant again.

Now, had she ever done a pap smear? Yes, she had once. A routine pap smear which was done to all post partum mothers 6 weeks after the delivery of a child. The smear was normal. And soon after, she got pregnant again, so that pap smear was her one and only.

Problems started when she was 7 months pregnant with Areef. She experienced post coital bleeding and staining for no apparent reason. Worried that she might had placenta praevia (low lying placenta), she came to the clinic. Ultrasound scan showed a good size baby with a fundal placenta.

Vaginal examination was carried out and you should know the finding because I have already given you the diagnosis. It was a growth (full stop). Bleeding and fungating. There was no other diagnosis left. But nonetheless, a tissue sample was taken.

She was shaken, but her husband....was devastated. By the painful look on his face, I knew instantly then how deep a man could love his wife. I knew he wanted to cry. Everyone in the room knew that he wanted to cry too. But he was the husband. If he cried, what would happen to Natassha and the healthily growing baby boy inside her?in my own interpretation, i think he swallowed his sadness and while he ushered his wife out of the clinic, he gave a second glance at the gynae specialist. A glance that was full of both hope and despair all at the same time.

As she sat there telling me this story, i listened attentively... I was filling the chemo form for her. Due to the pregnancy, she had to wait until the baby was mature enough to be delivered before she could start her chemo. There was no way she would opt for an emergency evacuation even if it would mean it could save her life. I remembered how the husband's face always changed when she mentioned this. He obviously would give everyhting in this world for her, but yet, all she wanted to do is to give him a boy.

On my last day of gynaecology posting, she was the last patient I saw that afternoon. I was writing her discharge form. But I was also worried for her. She had exhausted all her savings to pay for the good chemo drugs only to find out that her cancer cells were resistant to the drug. Even though she knew that she should just give up, but for her children and most importantly for her husband's sake, she couldn't...

She told me,"Now that I am sick, I couldn't work anymore. My husband is the sole breadwinner. Every month, we run out of money by the middle of the month to buy my medications and formula milks for the kids. Looking at our situation now, all I wanted to do is to quit trying so hard. I just want to stop buying meds and going for chemo because then we could save a lot. But my husband told me again and again that I should not worry about where we are going to find the money from. All I should concentrate now is to get better.."because all I hope is for you to get better"...," then for the first time I saw she cried.

Right after she said her goodbye, i ran to the cancer unit that handle all cancer patients in need of financial help. Whilst I ran, i felt warm tears budding at the corners of my eyes. "This job is so hard". I am a doctor. I know her prognosis was only 10%. i knew that before her financial help application could be processed, she would have long gone from the world. I knew that the 2 cheerful babies would never knew her mother who made the greatest sacrifice in the world and that loving husband was going to be a widower in 2 months time. Sure, their financial burden will be lifted up. But so does the love of his life.

Sad story, these cancer things are... I cry every time I think about them. Natassha especially. I hope she is in a good place now. Rest in peace, friend. May Allah bless your soul.

.....Come to think about it, I wish she just had praevia.

and as for the last order of the day, a reminder to all of us, girls...


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Sunday, October 3, 2010

That dream lounge

I don't have a house yet, can't really buy houses when you are thousands of kilometers away from home, can you? But gosh I do love decorating. Now that I have some spare time in between the teaching and the research, I figure maybe I should start with the decor pan.

So let us start with that dream lounge.

For a special place where everyone gather and loosen up after a hard day's work, soft cool colour with a lot of plush cushions, air condition and warm lightings. I can just land on one of the sofas and take a slumber right now.

I had always love a dream theme for my house but it could be too overwhelming for such a busy area like the lounge, what with children running around during the weekend chasing after each other (how cute, i I am picturing children in my future! =^.^=). so adding the classic swing could just do the part without too much complications to the room.

The materials and pictures were inspired from one of Gwyneth Paltrow's houses. Yup, houses (plural).. But she really has a class doesn't she?

Next will be the bedroom and the tree branches double bed will be the inspiration. *wink,wink*

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Saturday, October 2, 2010

The funeral that I missed

To Neoh Choo Hoong, I am sorry mate, My lack of understanding of my own religion made me missed paying my last respect to you.

Hi everyone, I have found several hadiths that indicate Muslims are allowed to attend non-Muslims funeral. If only I did this research 4 years ago.

1. ‘Ali b. Abi Tālib r.a came to the Prophet s.a.w and said, “Your uncle, the misguided one, has died.” “Go and bury him,” replied the Prophet. (al-Nasā’i, 190).

In the version in the Musannaf, Ibn Abi Shaybah’s narration adds that after ‘Ali did that, the Prophet s.a.w made a great du‘ā for him and then told him to make ghusl due to the mud and dirt that had accrued. (3/228 )

2.there was also documentation about the companions of the Prophet s.a.w that attended the funeral of the Christian Umm al-Hārith b. Abi Rabī‘ah. (ibid, 3/228 )

3. The Prophet s.a.w was also given permission to visit his mother’s grave (who is a non-Muslim). (Sahih Muslim)

4. Abu Wā’il narrated that he told ‘Umar (radhy Allāhu ‘anhu) that his mother, a Christian, had passed away, who then replied, “Get on your ride and stay in front of her (funeral procession)” (8, Musannaf, 3/228 )

It is not permissible for us to partake in the religious service itself as there will be prayers during the service that were are not allowed to join in. What we can do is to offer condolences to the family, and may also take part in their procession to the Crematorium (if they are doing so). We do however need to be careful to avoid the act of cremating itself as this is a prohibited in Islam.

In the funeral hall, stay at the back of the hall to let the family knows that we are there and are paying your last respect. All we have to do is to avoid joining the prayers and final blessings for the person who just passed.

Finally, as Muslims, we must remember that everything we do must be in line with the spirit of Shari’ah, a system that respects the dead of all nations that was brought by a Prophet who was sent as a mercy to all humankind.

By the way,if I was attending Micheal Jackson's funeral, I will be on the front row instead. Because Micheal Jackson on the other hand, is a Muslim. Just like his older brother. May peace be with you.

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Friday, October 1, 2010

Finally they fix the blogpress bug

Ever since I got this magical Apple product, I had been itching to blog about it. Knowing that blogpress had always been very good to me in my iPhone, I immediately bought blogpress for iPad. Cost me 2 dollars or so. The reviews had been fantastic. The best blogging appplication by far, i heard. But for 3-4 daysIi had been dissappointed. There was a magical bug keep crashing the app.

Feeling completely shuttered for few days, finally oh finally the crashing problem was acknowledged by blogpress and then long awaited update was available nit few minutes ago, and voila, here I am doing what I do best, rambling non-stop.

Really, there is nothing else to write about but this. And that 2 dollars I spent, worth every penny!

Uploading a picture was easy through my own picasa web album

Pictures look positively radiant. These pink flowers were taken from our garden...nah! Science library..

Pictures can also be easily arranged just like when you are writing in your on blogspot page..pretty handy heh.. No image manipulation feature though. But that is not a big problem. I am happy enough to not be grumpy about that now.

Mind you, I hate blogging in blogspot myself. The frequent saving feature really annoys me. So if I am using my laptop, I usually blog via windows live journal. And really, blogpress is rather like windows live journal minus the picture manipulation feature. So I am quite satisfied.

I am going to pen off now. It is just heavenly seeing the signature blogpress already prefixed for me.

I am so sleepy now, but I still want to watch UK's "How not to decorate"


- Posted using BlogPress from my iPad

Location:Nedlands, Western Australia

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