Disconnected

My notebook has decided to turn the lights out on me. I was in the middle of sorting my pictures on my hard drive when the screen was reduced to about ten percent of it's normal brightness. The affect was similar to that of being in a dark room. You can basically make out the outlines of the bed and the dresser but you can't make out the details of the knobs and the handles. I found myself gently trying to cajole my notebook into normal mode, very much like a man would his favourite car. 'Come on, don't do this to me. Come on, you can do it,' I whispered. In a sense I wasn't totally off-course since my computer's gotten me to places much like a car would. (In fact, I think I've traveled farther than I would have with a car).I even stroked the screen several times in reflex as if there was a fog stopping me from seeing it clearly. I considered banging it several times on the table like you would a broken television but decided against it, recalling that banging a broken television does diddly squat to fix it. Now I'm relegated to gatecrashing other people's computer. In this modern day and age it may be insufferable to live disconnected from the internet. I've discovered that it's considerably worse to live disconnected from your own personal computer.

Old habits die hard.
Bad habits die harder.
Bad instincts die hardest.

Marilah Mari, Mari Mengundi

There is nothing that I can say about the GE outcome that hasn't been said (or blogged) already. Except maybe that the term 'winds of change' appropriately describes the post-election mood in Malaysia. I've been following the progress of the GE through bloggers' posts and online newspapers from the parties involved and form both alliances. It's good to know that despite the heavily biased media, there are still an abundance of unbiased and forward-thinking minds (I could heap more praise on them but then there'd be no end to it, would there?) out there who are objectively and unemotionally scrutinizing this historic period and giving their two-cents about it. Perhaps the country isn't in such dire straits as I imagined it to be. It's amusing how there are still individuals who succumb to their political fervor by invading people's blogs and unleashing torrents of insults thinly veiled by political righteousness. Surely anyone in their right mind can see how futile that is. Even more amusing is how these people hide behind fake names or anonymity, which corrodes what little truth or credibility their comments might have had to begin with. Part of me wishes I was back home to witness this momentous occasion. Then again, this could be the best (or proper) position for me to observe the turn of events around Malaysia.

The next five years is going to be an interesting ride, indeed.

Now all of you be-have

My self-righteous alter-ego has made another escape and thus threatened to jeopardize another one of my already-fragile friendships. My fun-mister self was out chatting with a friend about his latest excursion into the Malaysian wilderness. Offhandedly he mentioned some hanky-panky he'd gotten into. It was a harmless escapade and my fun-mister-self fully understood the reason for this revelation. My dear friend had simply wanted to share a personal anecdote and perhaps take a little pride in his fecklessness. Without realizing it, my inner-school teacher came out and was fast typing at the keyboard, literally wagging a finger, shaking my head and going "Tsk, tsk, shame on you!" I couldn't believe it. She'd jumped out of nowhere and I was helpless tugging at her sleeves begging her to stop. She finally ceased her chastisement when my friend announced that he had some urgent business to attend to. I know full well that it was code for 'That's it, I've had enough of you!". By then I knew it was too late to smooth things over and make amends. The school teacher was gone and in her place was little Miss Nice trying to think up an apology. If only I could hold myself together better - ALL of my selves.

Something's going wrong in the world

You have the opportunity to change it here. Will you do it?

Oh very young one

She trudged up the driveway with her little purple sled and contemplated the two-feet-thick snow. I watched in amusement as she tentatively stepped onto the snow and sank all the way to her waist. Some of the boys were already sliding down the hillside. Their ecstatic whooping propelled her to take another step further and she sank deeper into the snow.

"Rabiah, do you need a hand?" I asked, not exactly sure how I'd be able to help if she'd said yes.

She half turned her head and the pink hood covered her face. She had to turned her whole body around in order to address me. "No, it's ok," she replied. She looked down at her feet. "Yeah, it's ok," she repeated, I thought, more to herself than to me. Her head shook an assertive 'no', her eyebrows knitted in worry but her rosebud lips mouthed the words so emphatically I momentarily forgot she was only four years old.

"Are you sure?" I repeated. She came back with a firmer nod but with a hint of the same worried expression. I looked over at my brother. He laughed and gave a helpless shrug of his shoulders. Alright, let the girl be her own guinea pig.

I decided to hold my camera at the ready and followed at a safe distance. Inevitably I did have to pluck her out of the snow and carry her purple sled, which she soon forgot in her struggle and her haste to catch up with the boys.

Watching her advance towards the slopes, my face was frozen in a smile. What a perfect picture - the girl in her pink get-up, the purple sled, the clean white snow and the crisp air. Her cuteness, her innocence and her infinite confidence to venture fearlessly into the (relative) unknown unassisted filled me with something near-celestial. Was it happiness? Pure, pristine pleasure? Exhilaration? A state of transcendence? I couldn't be sure but if the scene replayed itself a million times over, I was certain I'd never tire of it.

I couldn't put a finger on what aspect of this picture that was putting me in a state of a natural high. The pleasure was so tangible I could almost taste it on my tongue. I did, however, discover a child's God-given shield against the malice of the world - their cuteness. At that moment I couldn't imagine anyone in their right mind who would harm a child. Such conviction amidst the fear. Such confidence despite the anxiety. And the prettiest face to go with all that.

www.woes.com

How many times have you entered the wrong username for the wrong email account?
How many times have you entered the wrong password for the wrong account?
How many times have you accidentally activated the capslock key when entering your password?
How many times have you forgotten to check the box for the statement of understanding?
How many times have you overlooked that pesty little word verification?
How many times have you simply given up because all that trouble is just not worth the precious little you had to say?