Year 15 BPC

I have read this article by Lucy Kellaway with much interest as I began to relate with every points mentioned. As far back as I could recall a year and half ago (while still at uni), I remember committing my time to live through the time of pre-modernization with electronics. I did not even last though 3 hours! Suffice to say that I, if not we as the general public living in this modern era, have become so dependent on electronic gadgets that I would be akin to a retarded fool wandering on the big streets in the city feeling completely lost without them.

Would you go back to the days of typewriter? Maybe you would but anyone can bet against you that you will not last more than a month (even a month's time is an optimistic assumption). Going down this way could mean a change in [a higher] lifestyle [to a lower one] altogether. It makes me wonder if our children one generation below (those born in the late 90's and beyond) would ever put up with primitive technology such as manual typewriters, filofax, diary pads, flip chart presentations, etc.

It's really something to think about...
Have a read at the article below.

Source: Financial Times, June 29 2008.
I am writing this column with a silver fountain pen. I had planned to bang it out on a manual typewriter, but I threw away my old Olivetti a long time ago and don’t know anyone who still has one.

Pen or Olivetti makes no difference: the point is not to write it on a computer. I have just started a 24-hour low-tech vigil to mark the stepping down of Bill Gates, who more than any other human being has made the modern office what it is. I wanted to celebrate his departure from full-time work at Microsoft by reminding myself of what life was like when windows were things that let the light in.

Last Tuesday afternoon, I composed an automatic e-mail reply that said: “Lucy Kellaway is in the office, but not on the computer. You can send me a letter, or ring, or visit me on the second floor.” Then I pressed Submit, but got a message saying: “Error. Database has too many unique field names. Ask administrator to compact database.” God, I hate computers.

I love them, too. I have no truck with the idea that they have frazzled our minds and shrunk our souls: most office workers seem to be doing perfectly well, as far as I can judge. Although I am addicted to e-mail, it’s quite under control. Twenty-four hours’ cold turkey would be no problem.

“I bet you £2 you’ll crack,” my daughter said when I told her about my plan. “Done,” I said.

That afternoon, I shut down my machine and turned off my BlackBerry. I cleared enough space on my desk for a lined pad of paper. I sat and looked at it. What am I supposed to do now, I wondered? Research my column, was the answer. But, without the internet, how does one find anything out? I became a journalist in the year 15 BPC (Before Personal Computers) and so I should remember, but I can’t.

Then I noticed that lots of people seemed to be coughing and squeaking on their chairs. Computers, it seems, make one deaf and, with the computer off, it was as if the power of hearing had returned to me. This wasn’t entirely a pleasure as the sounds of an open-plan office are better blotted out, especially if you are trying to concentrate.

Otherwise, though, I was finding concentrating fine. The problem was that, deprived of all the stimulation of the internet, I wasn’t sure what I was supposed to be concentrating on. I looked longingly over a colleague’s shoulder and saw that he was reading something on the BBC website and writing an e-mail. His screen was busy; I just had a blank sheet of paper.

That evening, I went home early, feeling anxious about all the people who were surely trying to get in touch with me. At around 9pm, I snuck upstairs and quickly checked my e-mail, reasoning that, as I was at home, it didn’t count. This was a mistake: not only was there nothing interesting but also my daughter caught me at it and so I lost face . . . and £2.

The next day, I got in late, there being no hurry. The black screen on my computer looked like a death, but what had died was my job. I felt an impostor in the office, feebly jotting down some notes on a pad like a work experience person. I didn’t want to disturb colleagues as they were attached to screens, so must be working. I stared out of the window, fretting that my lunch might have been cancelled without my knowing. In fact it wasn’t, and I made it a long one and had some wine in the way we did in the BPC age.

Back in the office, feeling slightly tight, I wrote a thank you letter to my lunch host. An e-mail would have taken about one minute, but a traditional letter was quite a kerfuffle, involving a hunt for envelopes and paper and two phone calls, one to directory enquiries for the company phone number and one to the company for the address.

It took me 11 minutes all together, but I felt an unfamiliar stab of satisfaction when I was done and put the crisp envelope into the almost disused out-box.

Then I settled down with the fountain pen to write this. It was the biggest shock of all: writing with a pen involves thinking about what you want to say. On the computer, there is no need for this: I write any old thing in vast quantities, hoping that eventually I will write something I quite like.

On a computer, I write, then think. But the fountain pen forces one to do it the other way round, which is quicker but much harder. I am woefully out of practice.

But how many words had I done? How did we live without word count? I reread what I’d written and it seemed a bit amateurish, as if this was my first article ever. Still, a little earlier than usual, I was nearly done.

It had been a peaceful, if slightly lonely day. My phone had gone twice, both times the IT help desk trying to sort out the out-of-office e-mail problem from the day before. One person dropped by for a chat. I received no letters.

I had set out to see what work would be like without a computer. This, I discovered, was the wrong question. Work IS computers now. The two are the same thing. It may be technically possible to work without them but one has the feeling that one is in a wrong age or a wrong key.

Computers may make it hard to concentrate and they waste acres of time. But I don’t want to go back to the quieter life BPC.

I want to turn my computer on, copytype this article, check the word length, then see if anyone exciting has sent me a message.

New Look

Ahh, what a refreshing make-over of my pet blog. Been over three years and pushing to the fourth year soon. The colors, predominantly blue contours, goes easy with the eyes for reading comfort. The heading of this blog seemed much more organised, finished with a picture of me, in Athens (Greece), then followed by a brief introduction of what Braindumpster is all about.

Homecoming 2

Good news, I will be visiting home country again in December. This time HF will be coming with me. If I manage to drag her icy cold feet far enough, we'll be there till Jan 2, 2008. She'll be meeting my parents and family members for the first time, thus the cold numb feet.

This Time Last Year
...we were behaving like two lunatics running ecstatically and randomly on the streets in Florence (Italy) with a camera wielded in our hands snapping at everything we see. Being silly as we can get was perhaps about the only way to show that we were truly enjoying ourselves -- especially HF. If memory serves the better of me, I doubt we have not mimicked every statues and sculptures that we come across. While I tried not to be a HF's joy-killer, I couldn't help but to feel a little empty as I look at the sculptures. And obviously enough, that sculpture looked back at me, probably probing the million dollar question, "What do you know about me?"
"I have absolutely no clue, David! I just know 'that' (imagining pointing at 'that') is puny because all you need is just a leave to acquit you from public indecency."

We didn't have the luxury of time and money, and perhaps above all, knowledge as to spark a genuine interest to visit the museums. At the very least, I know HF doesn't have any. Time was spent exploring the city of Florence. We stumbled upon a street stretched over a bridge (Ponte Vecchio & Arno River) where jewelers ruled the streets. If it was night time, I bet the glitters from every hundreds of jeweler stores would be bright enough to illuminate the sidewalks of that street! Suddenly, HF was paralyzed torso down & neck up. Stuck at Ponte Vecchio, Italy's oldest and longest surviving stone bridge, it was also the longest agonizing moments I had to go through with HF who at the time seem to be hypnotized and enchanted by the glittering colors of gold, silver, and diamonds. She tried to convinced me that she was not the only one, and indeed, she was not the only one with torso and mental paralysis by acute golden sort of rays. Did I look surprise? I masked it, but I did enjoy myself nevertheless -- observing the behaviors of the paralysis captivating them by these jewelries. I wish to return to this place when I could afford a jewelry or two for my beloved one.

I, however, do have my fair share of paralysis too. But of magnificent structures and pizzas! We arrived at Florence's duomo megastructure -- Basilica di Santa Maria del Fiore -- designed by Filippo Brunelleschi. It is an astounding structure and a landmark. Being there reminded me not only can we achieve great things in life, but also the impossible. I recalled the documentary I watched on discovery channel about Esref Armagan, a blind painter, who was right here on an experiment test to prove that he could draw Brunelleschi's dome with perspective. He was born blind. He passed the test. All he did was a couple of touches on Brunelleschi's six-sided dome structure. Sat down and began drawing. It was mind-boggling.

Filippo Brunelleschi's Basillica di Santa Maria del Fiore, Florence, Italy.

Filippo Brunelleschi's Basillica di Santa Maria del Fiore, Florence, Italy.

Golden sculptured panels of biblical stories (I think) on an entrance gate.

Hf and I before the 'wallpapered' duomo

Inside the duomo, the artworks of painters, sculptors, stonemasonry, etc were all out of the ordinary. Awesome! Just have to be there to absorb my statements.

The Trompe-l'œil of Niccolò da Tolentino, the famed condottiero.

Enchanted! Beyond-words beautiful frescos -- the interiors of the duomo.

...a closer look

While these ceiling frescos are not decorated with gold leafs and/or paints as did the doumo of Marco Polo in Venice, they are still as impressive!

At the end of our trip, I had to readjust the position of my head-neck to be forward looking. There were just too many to see. The ones in Sistine Chapel had the better of my neck! But it was fun!

When I first saw Duomo Fiore, it was late evening and we were looking for our hotel. The exterior of the duomo looked as though the entire structure was wallpapered with green bar strips. When we were there again the next morning, HF laughed at me right in my face, "So, wallpapered huh? Idiot!!" Great, I became the butt of the joke first thing in the morning!

Home made super-freaking-'solutely delicious original Italian Margheritta pizza, only available in Naples, home to professional Italian pickpockets and thieves. Thank God I still had enough spare change to afford this mouth-watering aromatic pizza!

Possibly traveling the Peninsula
This December we may be visiting Singapore, an island of Malaysia for either snorkling or scuuba diving, and Thailand. Looking forward to get together with family and friends once again.

Bond Fire Night 2008

This year yet again nobody can help themselves to burn effigies of sort to fuel the fire, at least it was the largest bonfire I have ever seen -- at Hyde Park, Leeds. As a matter of fact, nobody (apart from the organizers) would be allowed to do that in public places (except for I think the person who did it -- Guy Fawkes). By 7PM, the park was already jam-packed with people, mostly young people as the park is surrounded by student residentials. The crowd was great! There could easily be 20,000 people at the park then. It was at least 50m radius from the bonfire -- fenced. Guards and security personnels inside. Several fire extinguishers within the circle. Five blinding mercury spotlights around the circumference... made walking to a destination difficult -- silhouette effect.

The fireworks this time, compared to the ones displayed at Roundhay Park last year, was not, in my opinion, very impressive. In fact, and surprisingly, I felt bored watching the unsynchronized display. Every rockets that lit up the night sky were most probably store purchased. They were boring, unlively, too much noise, uncreative, and small. It seemed that the fireworks lacked the skillful handwork of professional pyrotechnics.

Even though the disappointing fireworks display was not the primary agenda of the night -- the bondfire was -- the organizers for the fireworks display could have at least and should have put more efforts in it because of their associative factor. People turn up at the bondfire also to watch the fireworks. Without it, the bondfire night would be lacking completeness. I feel they should be feeling a little ashame because there are people out there who have bought a bigger, better, single-use fireworks for his own amusements!

We should have gone to Roundhay Park for this night.

Since Bond Fire night is the only night of the year where fireworks display is a very real possibility, organizers should really get together to plan for the biggest night of all to commemorate what Guy Fawkes began -- England's biggest bondfire, and a competitive fireworks display. So big that they won't need those annoying blinding mercury spotlights anymore and would justify the 50m stand-off from the fire. So big that the entire city would thronged to the site with full anticipation to watch the best display ever. But I guess to burn down a city is never worth anything.

Shanghai Traffic Preview

Referring to the second paragraph of my previous posting entitled "Shanghai", a video was especially made to illustrate just that. Before recording this video, I amuse myself by standing at the junction along Nanjing Road and Henan Road and watched every motorists' behaviors on the road.



To start with, for example, you'll first notice a cyclist (wearing red polo) ignored the traffic lights on his side and happily pedaled ahead while the road crossing this junction was still green. This is skill!

Then, when the light turns green, hordes and hordes of motor-cyclists revved up and jet by -- without helmets. The amount of cyclists and motorcyclists is a staggering number. Also take notice of sounds from just this video clip. Everybody is honking at one another -- and it's only normal. This is only one cross junction of Shanghai.

It's not that those without helmets are more prone to getting knocked down by another motorist, but the amount of motorists out there who are not abiding traffic rules. The attitude of crossing is more like when it's a clear way, go. It does not matter if it's either red, amber, or green. In a way, it tells me that these rules and pedestrian facilities are only for-show for those who doesn't drive anything bigger than a car. On the contrary, in Kuala Lumpur, pedestrians are complaining to the newspapers and the local municipals that our zebra-crossings and such are 'only for-show' for the motorists! Those with cars (and motorbikes) over here thinks they own the streets and think much less of those who are walking. And when one Malaysian driver honks at another, the honk is, more often than not, accompanied with a furious and irritated face or a cold stare. Personally, I think Malaysians have a long way before coming to terms with being courteous.

What is a honk for anyway?
1. "Heads up. I'm behind you. Make way" OR
2. "WTF! GET THE Frack outta my way!"

Point of inception

I think I am going to start a little episodic story to put on here. It will probably be about...

... should I spoil it? Nah!

Reunion

My year-long wish to travel to Shanghai has, well, finally been realized on Sept 6. I had wanted to visit HF's parents, who reside in Shanghai, since I had been back for almost 2 months. HF had to be back in Shanghai for her late grandfather's funeral. As much as I would like to make it with her at the funeral, there just wasn't time to sort out all necessary travel documents as that weekend coincided with a long weekend National Day holiday.

The wait
As soon as I obtained Chinese visitor visa, I just couldn't wait to see HF, who I have not seen since July 10. It was a midnight flight (MH 386) and I couldn't sleep throughout. Again, I couldn't believe that I will be face-to-face with HF sooner than I thought, even though for just four days.

After getting off at Zhongshan Park Station (中山公园地铁站) I waited for HF at the steps just in front of KFC. Since she's been back 4 days earlier than me, I was certain that she would have had a haircut or went to the hair saloon and/or got a new dress. It was supposed to be a 10-minute wait but 40 minutes had passed. She was not fasionably late but apparently, as I later learnt, she waited in another KFC branch on the other side of the road. I was waiting with a pink heart-shape cushion in arms to give it to her when we meet.

United
"Is she coming? It's been 30 minutes! Has she lost her way? How could she be lost in her hometown?", I asked. My anxious wait was over when she appeared in her new sleeveless turtleneck skyblue top with her dad. And sure enough, a new haircut and saloon-treated hair.

Despite of what has happened to her family, it was so good to see her again. My baggages were lugged away by her father to a cab. We had dinner together at her home on the first night. We ate out on the second night. HF had snake on Saturday. I was glad we spent lots of quality time together while in Shanghai as I knew we only had limited time before she leaves for Leeds on the following Monday (Sept 10). What struck me as a surprise was that HF was quick to depart from her mourning state of mind. She was back to her bubbly and cheerful self, like a little girl. I was like "OOkaaaayy..........", so I just took her as she was.



About the video above
Overcame with joy when I first saw you again in Shanghai after we've been apart for two months. Felt as though I was in love again. They don't need to know why I have chosen you. You don't need to know why I have remained with you. I just want to be with you.

This video marks both Huang Fei and I when we were in Shanghai. I went over for a visit and it upsets me to see her torn into pieces when she had to go back to England and leave me behind.

My visa application has been hindering me from going back to be reunited with her sooner.

The song is by Jay Chou (周杰伦) called 枫叶 and I believe it's correct translation is "Maple leaf". Because we have been traveling together, I intend to show how my travel was not really complete without her. Often I felt left out, like the maple leaf at the end of the video, which was the only leaf that turned red perhaps still waiting before falling with the rest. Among other things, there should have been two tea cups, two everything. The song silenced prematurely for a conversation and resumed with the words "I just wanna be with you" in Mandarin.

Probable trip to Shanghai

Since the British High Commission is currently reviewing my appeal for a visa, I won't be hearing from them for the next 4-6 weeks! Earlier this week, thoughts of visiting Shanghai crossed my mind and I have been thinking about going there for a vacation seriously. One of my main agenda was to visit HF's parents during my stay. I sought for a couple of people to sponsor a return flight ticket to Shanghai (PVG) and because Malaysia will be celebrating it's 50th years of Independence, it won't be till Monday before anyone is able to do anything.

To my surprised, I received a call from HF on Thursday's evening (11:03 GMT). She was crying on the other end. Not a word spoken. Still crying even after asking what's happened many, many times. Then the news broke out:
HF: Danny... my grandpa passed away!
ME: OMG! Oh no! How did that happened? Are you okay?

Obviously she wasn't okay but I was overcame with shock that my HF was wailing non-stop that I didn't have a split-second thought to know what i was asking.

HF: *just crying*
HF: The funeral will be on Sunday.
ME: I'm very sorry to hear that. Are you going back to Shanghai?
HF: I will go back on Sunday. I will see if I can have them postpone the funeral to Tuesday. Can you come too?

ME: Yeah! Of course, I will be there.

She has no idea of my plans to visit Shanghai to see her parents for a couple of weeks. My position at this moment would, according to Arthur, sound like the comedy-drama movie entitled "Four Weddings and a Funeral" staring Hugh Grant. It's "One Wedding and a Funeral" for me so far.

I feel very sorry to hear the demise of HF late grandfather. I still think I would go for a visit.

Welcome home to...

Durians! The thorniest fruit with the strongest smell and taste ever in the fruit kingdom! At least I would like to think that my "Welcome Home" platters were these creamy delicious sweet desserts.

Look it up in Wikipedia if you don't already know what this is. But if you're not Malaysian, Thai, Cantonese, or Singaporean, you would most probably hate everything about this king of fruits!

**durian farts...!!**

So, I haven't visited curry houses yet nor had I had much curries. **pinches nose** However, the one thing I am trying to 'have' is a normal biological clock. Jetlag has left me **durian belched** totally restless! Just had 4 hours of sleep. The worst is probably trying to re-adjust to the humid heat here. I'm still having hard time trying to breathe properly. My brother and cousins advised that I will probably need a week to get used to the weather here.

I can't wait to have a walk-in freezer so I can live there till I get used to it! I sucked!

The Taboo of Accent (Confession)

MW was one of the few persons I actually confessed my relief on hearing a Londoner's accent to when working for Bagel Nash. It sounded totally random and odd at first but somehow that was justified as the Yorkshire accent has taken an indirect toll on me. *lol!* How? It's a long story to which some of MW's friends have had the agonizing moments of listening to my long story, herself included. I almost forgot to mention that the Yorkshire accent is, IMHO, "too cool" for me to bear. I never despise any accents for any matter. I hold out a very comical stand point of view on the Yorkshire accent and I do not know why. It's just the way it is.

Anyway, the diversities of accent is perhaps one of the many things I love in life. Having said this, it does not, however, means I faked my accent whenever I speak. I cannot begin to tell you how complicated it is for a Malaysian, as with myself, to refuse to admit that we do not have an accent. In one way or another, it does reveal where you are originally from if your ears are sensitive enough to identify. Oddly enough, I didn't know my ears were quite sensitive to people's accents from different parts of the world, or even parts of England or UK. Sometimes when shopping in Leeds city center, I would inadvertently picked up a very familiar accent and know that person is from Malaysia, Singapore, or Indonesia. I always get very curious as to the geographic or demographic origin whenever I hear a new accent from the person I just met, if already different from that locality.

I remember very clearly when I was warned not to entirely change the way I speak before I left for Canada. I guessed the reason for such a warning was to fundamentally maintain an already familiar understanding when speaking. If that was an offense within my family, then I would have been crucified by them. *laughs!* It all came naturally, I GUESS (hoping I'm not wrong)!! And when I came to UK, my dad said, "So, you're gonna come back with an English accent now, huh?". I denied. Boy, how I was so wrong! I remember I used to say "to-may-toes" but I soon caught on to saying "to-ma(h)-toes".

So, here comes the question. Do I have an accent?
Ironically enough, I must say it depends on several things; there's no straight answer to this one. So, the answer is a "yes" and a "no".
Analogically, there is a "linguistic switch" in my head. I could flip it "on" or flip it "off" depending on whom I'm speaking with. I know, it sounds weird. But it's something that, I think, most Malaysians and Singaporeans (born and bred there) would eventually and inevitably develop after having lived outside of Asia for some time. I strived to be understood in the context of that particular locality.

Here's my confession. First, suppose that you are my non-Asian friend. You and I have no trouble understanding each other in speaking or listening. So, if you traveled with me back home you will observe that whenever we (Malaysian and Singaporeans) speak to our family and friends back home, you will NOT have a complete understanding of what was spoken even though we would be speaking in English. Nevermind the colloquials used, as my English would still sound like a completely different language to you. My "switch" would be switched off to avoid being labeled as a social outcast (but not to its full meaning). As crazy as this may already sound, it is a friggin' taboo back home to speak with an "on" switched! People get labeled with all sorts of names--"Cakap macam orang putih!" would probably be the likely candidate out of hundreds of possibilities. That would simply be translated to mean "a snob and a wanna-be" in Malay (the language).

So, for those of you who knows me, here in the UK or in Canada or United States, know that my switch is "on" because you're hearing my standard accent. My accent is nowhere near "arrived". If you imagine flying from Nigeria to London, you know you have arrived London when you landed. So, in terms of my accent, it is somewhere in between Asia and North America, mixed or probably confused with English accents. It is a nice "potpourri" of accents with no identifiable geographic or demographic region. *laughs!!*

So, what happens when I meet my country mates here in UK? Which switch will you be at? The switch is, uhh, faulty! It really depends because there's this whole thing of "taboo" to avoid. If it is worth avoiding raising the taboo issue, then it will definitely be "off", otherwise, it's staying "on".

Are you confused? Some people have got so good in switching back and forth without any problems or confusions. No, I am not confused. *lol!*

If a person spoke English, can you tell if that person is, if Asian, Filipino or Portugese, Japanese or Korean, Chinese or Hongkongese, Filipino or Indonesian, Indonesian or Malaysian? OR if non-Asian, Scottish or English, French or Spanish, English or West European?

Lastly, something not taboo, if you don't already know Russell Peters, I'd definitely recommend you to watch his stand-up comedy shows. They can be found in YouTube.com.

Outraged over bank charges

High street banks in the UK believed that they are providing their customers a service and can charge them whether or not they are directly related to your account.

They say it is a "fair, reasonable, and transparent" charge. I say they are a bunch of opportunists! It is clearly an excellent example of The Poor Making the Rich Richer! Or best of of all and I think, "The Rich Making the Poor Poorer" fits this entire article.

I do not oppose to charges on overdrawn accounts. The charges in place, per se, is a fair consequence. However the amount that is being charged upon customers is unreasonable and unfair, albeit warned. It is more than the legal maximum amount. It can have a deleterious consequence on a person's financial health.

If you have insufficient funds to pay your bills directly from you account, say for that month, the charges have only made your situation worst. At £35 (average) for each transaction, it could mean more than a penalty charge, albeit this is something that the banks will never admit to. It can be seen as their way of taking advantage of the situation to make even more money out of a poor man's pocket. Many thinks a charge between £5 and 12£ is a fair and reasonable charge--although we all wished there will be no charges at all. Heaven forbids, they could have easily levy a charge of £120 (more or less) each transaction for such a situation! Evidently, that would be tantamount to robbing -- the intention to deprive a person of his belonging indefinitely! Note that the amount could be an arbitrary amount!

I read in newspaper about the unfortunate incident of an English girl who depended on public funds (welfare benefits) as her source of income. She has bills to pay monthly so she has several Direct Debit (DD) and/or Standing Order (SO) instructions with her bank so that her bank will pay out the specified amount on the specified day every month. She did not get paid (her benefits) on time in one of the months and that month alone, her bank has charged her over £750!! This is a CLEAN PROFIT for them! That figure must have included interest rates on late payments as well as fees for unpaid items. Notice that interest rates on late payments (a variable amount) are different from a fees levied for late payment (a fixed charge).

In a forum, I read from a participant's posting saying that she got charged 38£ for an overdrawn amount of 0.29£ on her account. Reasonable? I think many will be furious! If that does not spell out the letters R-I-D-I-C-U-L-O-U-S, you should just stop reading and go back and continue sipping your champagne beside your private pool. In some ways, I have occasionally seen these high street banks as robbers hiding behind the veil of a legal business and excluded morality!

The charges are often labeled as "Administrative charges" [for unpaid items].
What [TF] are they?
They say that it is the service that they provide us that gave us the convenience of payments, i.e. DD and SO. That because insufficient funds, administrative works took place. But I thought all these were computerized!? HF once shouted over the phone with a HSBC's customer service, "What administrative work have you done that I have to pay you £38??!!" She was right, they have not done any work! It was just another means for them to make more money. The customer service on the other end of the line kept saying that there was no money. He couldn't answer HF's question. Ironically, if there was no money, they have practically made you worst--a bankrupt!
If you know of a gold mine, wouldn't you want to mine all of it out?! A £38 charge over a 3.08£ overdrawned on HF's account! After the unpleasant commotion over the phone, HF was promised she will get her money back. Indeed, she got her money back!

The banks know they are not doing all of this right. They will take your money and keep quite about it. If you complaint, they will say that it is already in the terms and conditions and YOU have AGREED to them when you bank with them. Many will be deterred by this. But if you don't do anything, you're only letting them keep your money that is rightfully yours! It's like them saying "If you want your money back, you gotta ask for it! Until then, it is ours to keep!" Their terms and conditions of their services allows them to legally do the latter part by levying the said charges. It could be, for all you know, a 100£, per transaction! You gotta fight for it!

See http://tinyurl.com/zl4tg for a list of people who have managed to claim back their money from these 'illegal bank charges'. You'll be quite amazed!

IF they are doing everything legally, then they will have every reasons to refute a claim and NOT to refund. Strange enough, they DID refund many people their money and disguised it as "a gesture of goodwill and without admission of liability or error". Further, banks indirectly threatened (and 'black-list') you if you try to claim your money again by saying "we may need to consider if we are prepared to continue to provide you with your existing banking facilities".

One person got back over 8,000£ in the reclaim of over 5 years of these charges! I got back my full amount of the claim I asked for. If the money is not yours, then it will never be yours regardless the number of times you complaint and threatens to take them to court for settlement. Suffice to say that it certainly does not take a financial analyst or a great imagination to realize the blatant truth of this situation.

Chinese New Year

The year so far has been packed with joys of festivities. Didn't we exchanged gifts over Christmas? Watched grand pyrolympics show ushering the New Year of 2007? Bought/receive more gifts for/from a special person/friend on his/her birthday? Up to this point, it may seem to be all for most people.

Wait a minute, did I miss Valentine's Day?? As for V-day, I doubt many could come up with Jasin Boland's feat. It's like the Valentine of Valentine's day! Little thoughtful gestures and keep the romantic factor alive would suffice for most, and that was exactly what I did although I wish I could have done more. HF got me a year's subscription for a stock photography website so I can showcase my creativity (if I have any left). I prepared a special candle-light home-cooked meal just for her with Eeyore the donkey waiting for her by the dish decorated with helium balloons and red tulips. Some got married on this day, thus, calls for a double celebration -- turning the over commercialized day into a more meaningful personal celebration. I've even seen flyers that reads "I hate Valentines" or "Valentine's my arse" as a form of advertising for a nightclub. I hope it went well.

They have been the best so far.

Chinese New Year is up next and it's happening this weekend! And this festival celebrated by Chinese communities all over the world lasts for 15 calendar days. Had I been a very traditional Chinese Chinese (one that closely abides in all Chinese customs and traditions), I would not have just been driven up the walls, but up to the ceiling. (LoL!) Being a Chinese Malaysian, only the first few days are of importance. And the Chinese Valentine's Day is on the 15th day, that would mean I have TWO Valentine's Day. My lady would be very, very pleased. :)

We have planned to make special dishes that are customary to have only during CNY. Unfortunately, these special dishes are not just one or two. I was just thinking because the Chinese eats any living thing with a back (dorsal) facing the skies/sun, they certainly will not have a problem to come up with another. I'm not saying that we will have reptiles, or canines as a dish, but simply suggesting there are innumerous of those special dishes.

Don't you just love all of these? There's always something to look forward to do. I'm not exhausted, but I am broke. In a way, I'm quite thankful that there will be no more festivals where we will be directly involved... at least not until I have a positive flow of income.

Blue Screen of Death

There has been no problems with regards to performance and usability of my new Dell laptop. However, today, in fact just a few minutes ago, something unusual happened that caused the blue screen of death, in which I thought was almost forgotten!

I have not added any hardwares or peripherals to this machine. It is totally unexpected that this kind of error should arise for a new machine. I wonder if Dell could do something about it? I didn't purchase their "insurance plans" for technical support because they're too expensive, and I only see it as their excuse for squeezing our pocket dry-er!

I tried looking for solutions to this problem by reading Microsoft's Knowledge Base site and other sites suggesting a resolution to the problem but ultimately and honestly, I wouldn't dare to do anything just yet.

Wish me luck!