Happy Birthday mi amor!

*This is a scheduled post, I am currently out of Blogger reach*

Look who's 27 now!!!

More matured, more intelligent, more handsome, cuter, buffer, smarter, wiser, cooler, more loving *hearts hearts* and the list goes on… (of all the good things that coming along the way).

At this age, I would like to remind you of your goal for this year – Graduate your MBA with excel (a.k.a Dean's List) and a buffed up sexy washboard abs!

Look what you have achieved these previous year – Graduated your PADI diving certificate, got out of Petronas and moved to Pos Malaysia with better profits and came to visit me twice (since your last birthday). And there are just too much that I'm running out of time to write them all up in here. However, I am so incredibly proud of you darling!

I wish you more success to come and fantastic years ahead as you deserve all the fabulousity in this world! *further birthday message is not for published in my blog*

Happy birthday Ahmad Zhafri!

I love you so much! Xoxo!

Iota #24 – Those cancerous edible thingy

I always knew that Indonesia has a rich selection of foods. Food is love. Therefore, I could manage to love this place.

Yesterday, I went for some groceries shopping at Giant. They actually have a specific aisle of instant noodles in their supermarkets. I don't remember if the supermarkets in Malaysia have specified an aisle just for instant noodles! Anyways, they have variety of flavours, brands and even imported instant noodles. It's like a fiesta of artificial flavors and cancerous factors! That sounds scary alright… but it didn't bother me that much as I went through the isle looking for some unique flavors.

Indomie has come out with a lottt more flavors that consist the specialties of every state in Indonesia nationwide. I just had Indomie goreng rasa rendang pedas Medan, then I bought the Coto Makassar flavor, then I saw something like mie kocok Bandung, soto Ambangan Surabaya, and just a lot more! It is surreal to know that we can have the taste of the whole of Indonesia special cuisines in just two minutes cook that cost about Rp1250. Oh yea, they even have the 'sate' flavor! If you wish like eating sate, you can now opt for noodles. Awesome ain't it?

So, about the indomie goreng rendang pedas Medan, it sucks! I believe that it wasn't suppose to taste that way. I just got a wrong combination of seasonings. I didn't get the seasoning powder in my packet instead I got two of the garnish.

Alright now, enough of that cancerous noodles. I'm off to Wlingi now, for O&G outstation posting. I won't be around for the next 10 days. See yah when I got back!

Xoxo~

Iota #23 – Award

This post on-call feeling – *a big sigh*

It has been a dramatically hectic week. I've awarded a friend the best actress in this second decade of my life.

Wait, hold on there!

Let me rephrase… I've awarded a so-called friend as the best actress in this second decade of my life. Yeah, she is that good. Not only in acting, but also directing and scriptwriting, I am mesmerized! Her acting is genuinely phony, and her stories come in various versions, even Mark Burnett can't beat that! Furthermore, she is also the best make-up artist for special effect on human expression and artificial props (e.g tears and hugs). If only I could make her walk up the red carpet (I mean, if only I could catch her red handed) and onto the stage, she would steal the magazine highlights and all the limelights! 'WOW!'

Enough of that pants on fire, even dragons can't afford to burn so much fire through their mouths!

It's getting hot hot hot!! Imma taking out my clothes. If only I have a pair of fuming bright red lingerie, I'd put them on. Sexyhh~ (but isn't pink cute??)

Dear liar,

Liar liar pants on fire,
Hang them up on telephone wire!

Dear you-know-yourself,
I mean no harm, but am I just smart or what?

You got busted!
Not once,
Not twice,
Trice? or maybe 4 times? 5 times? Or all the time when you did 'that'.
Oh God, what are you thinking??!

Like I ever care if you lied to me? Or to us? Or to them? Or even to everyone else.
But just to get to know that those 'stories' were lies are just not good you know...

Let me spell you something that has long been inside your dictionary since ever,
H to the Y to the P to the O to the C to the R to the I to the S to the Y.
What's that spell??
Yeah, that's YOU~ Boo!!

Who cares about you lying anyway?
We definitely don't loss a thing if we were called your lying 'victims' (haha).
Pity those who care and being affected.
Send my regards to your missed most family anyways~
They've got their trust on you (when they got trashed by you...)



Now I got it, why these 6 years were such a mental tortured for you.
Now I understand what those people felt when they live together with you.
And now I know why it's hard for you to call a person a 'friend',
If that's the way you call yourself a friend... you'll never find one.

xoxo~

p/s : nice lingerie! *wiNk*

While sniffing my fingers…

Nasi Padang again for lunch this weekend!

I never thought I would have a place for Nasi Padang in my heart. Not saying that it's not nice, but I just found it ok, nothing too special about it (before). Not until I had it at Rmh Mkn Sederhana, I like how they serve us! "Bedebukk!" (sound effect yg agak exaggerating) about 30 plates of dishes are disposed on our table. It makes my appetite grows sadistically vicious on food!

The lunch was good, furthermore with good company too! Having said that, I miss the long conversation and gossip sessions with my housemates which we had it just now.

One of the best ways to deeply enjoy Nasi Padang is to eat by hand. However, there was a little thwart in my heart while I was walking to the basin to wash my hands, and thought to myself "Oh pity my nails, I just got them manicured yesterday!".

Nothing kept me from preserving my newly manicured nails from the scrumptiousness of the food – IDC!

Then, even 4 hours after lunch, I could still smell a little tiny bit of the little something from lunch.

*sniffing my fingers*

Could this be the smell of the ikan asam pedas? Or the rendang daging? Perhaps the sambal petai sotong? Or Kari udang? Or maybe the daging dengdeng? Hmm… the smell of the nangka masak lemak? The sambal hijau? Or maybe the pucuk ubi?

Who cares about the manicured nails after all, I got the food (feel a little bit dying inside…).

I was actually very excited yesterday as I scheduled myself for a little treat for my hands and feet. They have been working arduously for the past few weeks. As for my fingers, they've been occasionally sticking into vaginas, likewise my feet, they've been standing for hours, I pardon, hours in the operation theater. So extra treat for my feet, besides pedicure, they also got reflexology! Ah~ I love massage!

To wrap up my tummy today, I had a cute dinner with Frente. Not saying that Frente is cute (nanti dia perasan pulak!), but my fruit platter and the chocolate fondue were cute, with the little flags. It was more like a chocolate aroma therapy burner actually! I definitely like the band that was performing at the Amsterdam this evening. One thumb up!

When the Lele speaks

According to my financial record, the last time I had Nasi Lalapan Lele Penyet was on the 2^nd February 2010. That probably was during the time of ancient Lele dynasty!

"I prefer 1 lele than 10 pieces of chicken" – Bil

"Setuju! Setuju!" – Sit.

I was only getting my dinner at the warung, didn't expect any unusual thing to happen! I got the long lost taste of nasi lalapan lele, and with some hot-from-the-deep-fried-wok banana fritters. While I was waiting for my lele, I was approached by this unknown guy, without hello, he asked

"Kuliah ya mbak?"

Oops, terkejut beruk I! but still put on my calm façade and simply replied

"No"

Whattha? I talked to stranger! and the conversation took a few more questions, when the ibu lalapan finally speak up and burst out her long due doubt about me…

Ibu lalapan : "Praktek apa di rumah sakit?"

Si Perut Lapar : "Dokter"

Ibu lalapan : "Klau di Malaysia dulu mbak kerjanya apa?"

Si Perut Lapar : "Ga kerja…"

Ibu lalapan tersenyum seribu makna : "Oooh… tak kirain mbaknya pernah jadi selebritis atau model yang foto-foto" (Oooh, I think you were once a celebrity or model) *type sambil rasa geli2 separuh badan*

Si Perut Lapar control nak gelak tertonggeng2 : "Hah? Masa sih buk, terakhir di Malaysia saya sekolah!"

Ibu lalapan : "Ngak, maksudnya loh mbaknya cantik"

Si Perut dah tak lapar berdoa dalam hati "Amin… amin… ya Allah semoga benar kata-kata ibu lalapan ni!".

Hasn't she seen all these stubborn fats hanging around my arms and belly? These pimple scars on my face? These funny set of rabbit teeth? If I were even dream of becoming a model, Tara Banks would LOL and ROFL me in the front page of Oh! while Aoki Lee and Ming Lee would go back to school thinking that this world is so cruel that beautiful people are on extinction that I had to take over. Pfft~

Anyways, beauty is in the eye of the beholder. And I like the eyes of the ibu lalapan! Few minutes later, my lalapan is ready, I paid her the exact amount of how much my lalapan cost, no tax, no extra tips for the acclamation. Thank you ibu lalap! Your lele rocks!

Operatiekamer

Operatiekamer a.k.a OK is a-OK!

Here in my hospital, instead of calling our Operation Theater as 'OT', we called it 'OK' (pronounced Oh-Car), in which stands for Operatiekamerin Dutch. Why Dutch? Ntah la labu… maybe because Indonesia was once colonized by the Dutch and that they adapted few of their terms.Today, I went into the OK for a laparotomy procedure and a tubectomy. I didn't even assist the operation, my being there was just for study and observing purpose, but I had to stand there for more than a 5-dready hours!

So there I stood, and walked around the operation table finding a perfect spot to view the procedure. Those were indeed my first laparotomy and tubectomy procedure (previously were caesarean sections and hysterectomy.

At first, the laparotomy was cool. They actually took out the whole guts to get to the ovary where the cancer cells are. The un-cool part was that the cancer cells had metastasis to everywhere that they took about 3-4 hours to explore the abdomen cavity to clear up every bit of the cancerous cells. It then turned to bore me as I had to stand long to watch them doing the exploration.The extra 1-2 hours was held to the surgery department surgeons to fix the patient's perforated peritoneum. And still, I had to stand there to watch the procedure. It was kinda cool though, but I was too tired standing up.

It was actually nothing much different than those procedures I watched on TV. They could actually make videos out of those procedures and let us just watch them while having popcorns and laze on couch, instead of us having to stand long hours in the freezing OK. Besides, it was bothersome that I had to change into the OK sterilized outfit (which is not sexy!) and put on the cap and mask at all time!

Haritu 5 jam, harini 5 jam. Baru 5 jam, kesian kaki I… can I become a surgeon??

When I miss you...

Unfortunately, there is nothing much I can do to help me relief this huge burden of longing for you…

This is my emancipation – I try to gather various stuffs that bear resemblances of us.

I miss having a quiet time with you, where we both just sit, quietly, looking bluntly where only the horizon meets our eyes, breathing of the same air, thinking of nothing but just to treasure our time of togetherness. Just by knowing that we’re no distance apart, with no words conversed but yet so exhilarating – bliss~

We’re individuals that come as an item. The two white doves resembles our freedom as individual – we fly our own flight but of the exact same destination.

It has always been me and you, the lights are never off. Our background has always been an explicit rainbow in vibrant colors that illustrate our effervescence, and that we are that constantly ostentatious.

The iPhone is part of our lifelines, that’s how we connect best, anywhere, anytime!

The smiley friendster icon just to remind us of what we are – Best friends forever! And that I never fail to fall for your smiles :)

The Nike plus sensor that comes in pair shows that we are long distance gym partners.

The beach – my romantic dream gateway with you.

Since I am never around on your birthday, I got you belated birthday cake.

You are the apple of my eyes.

You are so cute and sweet, you are my cuppy cake.

Our love is growing, and we never stop seeding the love trees.

One morning I woke up, I found there was a bouquet in my room. And that was the first dozen of pink roses I got from you, with my full name printed on the card. You never fail to make my 31^st January!

7 – (years) that’s how long this love has grown and still growing and will keep on growing forever – ever after, amiin!

When I miss you, I miss us... :'(

Iota #22 - The bathroom

It's irritating to see strands of hair clogging the toilet drain. Even if it's just a few strands. And what's more annoying is the person to whom the hair belongs to is someone who never washes the bathroom!!

How can I say that that someone never washes the bath? Who knows she might have washed it several time during her shower?

Hell yeah, even if I have to believe that she have washed it, I must say that she must have washed her body at what she thought was the toilet. The toilet is never amazingly clean suddenly if it wasn't me who washed it.

A better evidence to support my previous statement is from my experience to see the bathroom at its dirtiest was after I came back from my 1 month holiday. And that happened twice (since we moved in), clogging drain, dirty floor and walls, and even spider webs on the corner of the ceiling. Doesn't this enough to show that she really never washed the bathroom?

It was fine at the beginning because she always had excuse that she is too busy for it. Since she entered the practical before me, I was made to understand her busy-ness and give in, therefore I always 'didn't mind' if I had to always clean our bathroom. But as time goes by, when my hectic time comes, and she is having more leisure time than me, the situation is still the same. Her hair still clogging, and it's me who always have to clean the bath.

Now I understand that it's not about her lack of time nor her hectic schedule, but it's about her. It could either be that she doesn't see that the bath need to be cleaned or she either depend on me to clean it since she knows that I am more allergic to dirty places than her (perhaps she is disgusting).

This doesn’t just happen to our bathroom, but also to the whole house. Ask her how many times have she sweep or mopped the living hall floor, or the balcony or the kitchen? As far as I know, twice – in two years!

Mama says “sabar je la Bil”. The more I sabar the happier I become, because I do what mama told me!

God, what a selfish freaky I have to share the bathroom with...

I’m counting down to her graduation!

Nasi Padang

Makan tengah hari tadi tidak ada kena mengena dengan sebarang jenis sukan atau permainan, juga bukan suatu hidangan makanan untuk orang yang suka berolahraga, malah jauh sekali untuk orang yang sedang berdiet.

Kenapa nama dia Nasi Padang?

Huh, orang yang tak pernah belajar Geografi pun mungkin boleh jawab soalan ni!

Nasi Padang memang terkenal! Lebih-lebih lagi di Indonesia. Siapa yang tak pernah makan nasi padang? Oh wait, belum menjawab pertanyaan tadi… Nasi Padang dikenali sebagai ‘Nasi Padang’ kerana ianya diilhamkan oleh kaum yang tinggal di daerah nun jauh di Pulau Sumatera iaitu daerah Padang. Pasal tu lah nama dia Nasi Padang. Mungkin kalau orang Subang Jaya dapat mengilhamkan sejenis masakan, akan kita namakan Nasi Subang, walaupun tak ada kena mengena dengan sebarang barang hiasan wanita.

Jadi tadi, saya pergi makan dekat restaurant nasi padang yang terkenal. Saya tak tau pun kalau restaurant ni sebenarnya terkenal, sehingga pada suatu hari, sewaktu mama datang menjenguk, mama tanya

“Takde ke Nasi Padang mcm Rumah Makan Sederahana ke?”,

Oh, mama pun tau restaurant ni rupanya… mesti selalu makan dengan papa dekat Jakarta! Memang betul! Sebenarnya saya pun pernah makan dekat restaurant yang sama tetapi franchise di Jakarta, cuma waktu tu saya tak tau pun nama restaurantnya apa, main hentam makan je asal kenyang! Tapi Frente selalu bercerita tentang restaurant favourite papanya.

Di situ, seperti yang direkomendasikan orang ramai adalah lauk otak dan rendang limpa. Uish, exotic betul bunyinya! Jadi, dengan perasaan penuh ‘curiousity’ (saya terlupa bahasa melayunya apa) saya pun tabahkan hati, tetapkan iman, untuk mencuba otak lembu itu! Saya tak suka makan otak, tapi saya suka mencuba makanan baru, asal halal, lagi exotic lagi bagus! Terasa diri seperti di dalam rancangan Fear Factor, dan ada pula angan-angan untuk menjadi pengganti Andrew Zimmern untuk rancangan Bizarre Food di AFC.

Ini lah gambar otak lembu yang saya makan. Tetapi sayangnya, saya gagal menghabiskannya kerana tidak senang dengan konsistensinya yang membuatkan suasana di dalam mulut saya terasa seperti mau muntah.

Agaknya, ini bahagian otak yang mana ya? Medulla oblongata? (eh, saya suka bunyinya – medulla oblongata *baca dengan slang*). Apakah mungkin ini bahagian yang dinamakan Amygdala? Atau Cingulate Gyrus? Kerana, setelah memakan otak ini, saya merasakan lebih emosional dan aggressive. Kesian boyfriend saya terkena tempias otak lembu yang saya makan!

Lihatlah ni, banyak betul lauk yang dihidangkan! Walaupun cuma berdua, tetapi piring lauk yang dihidangkan sampai bertingkat-tingkat! Bahaya juga makan Nasi Padang kalau dihidangkan macam ni, silap-silap boleh kena ‘charge’ sampai beratus-ratus ribu rupiah! Tapi nasib baik lah kami pemakan Nasi Padang yang berpengalaman, jadi kita cuma memilih yang kita mau makan, dengan meng’control’ iman supaya tidak memakan kesemuanya! Tricky betul Nasi Padang ni sebenarnya. Sesuailah dengan namanya pun nasi Padang, memang banyak trick yang harus ditackle!

Setelah selesai mengisi perut, kami ke sebuah kedai alat tulis. Saya yang beria-ia mau ke sana kerana saya ingin membeli pen Standard Fizz 202. Dah lama dah saya berhajat untuk ke kedai alat tulis tu, sebab di kedai lain tidak ada jual pen tersebut. Pen tersebut memang sedap digunakan untuk menulis! Harganya juga SubhanAllah, amatlah murah. Jadi saya terus beli satu kotak yang berisi 12 batang a.k.a saya beli satu dozen pen! Murah! Jangan risau. Harga 12 batang hanyalah Rp12500. Jadi kalau nak di’convert’kan ke RM, tak sampai 40sen!

Memang sedap pakai pen ni! Pernah sampai terjadi satu peristiwa dimana pen saya hampir dikebas oleh seorang doktor pipi gelebeh untuk dijadikan hak miliknya, tetapi saya berjaya menyelamatkan dan merampas kembali pen saya!

Sekarang, saya akan lekatkan sticker nama 'Bil' pada setiap batang pen untuk menghindari dari kecurian. Eh, dah la tamak beli sampai satu dozen, kedekut plak tuH!

Biassse dia!

Shattered

I know my feelings are always right. No matter how you try to pull the wool over me. Just so you know (in case you don’t), I was born with a strong feeling and the best part is, I trust my feeling more than I trust anyone else.

But then, my sensitivity is left numbing.

And then,

Something is better left unblogged…

Within walking distance

It takes exactly 220 steps from my doorstep to the hospital main gate. I’ve always been lucky that I live nearby my work place. Even last time when I was still in campus, it took about 1000 steps to my house (yes, I count footsteps!).

Therefore, I always have time to lunch at home, sleep at home, bathe at home and do everything that people do at home, at home (and not at the workplace). Eventhough I appreciate the effort that the administration have prepared us an ‘exclusive’ place where we can call ‘home’ in the hospital (of which we called ‘kamko’ a.k.a kamar koas), but it is still never the same. Most of the major departments even have prepared us lounges for change, naps and hang around, but… I still prefer to walk extra steps to go back home.

I pay a what you called ridiculous price for our house rent, but I don’t mind paying as long as we get the desirable comfort. So, you have no reason to fumed and annoyed at me when I say ‘I want to go home’ in between working hours, because the steps I take to go back home is almost the same amount as to the cafeteria. Besides, I can get ready faster than those who are at the kamko, because at home I don’t have to queue for shower. No reason for you not allowing me to go back home for shower just because you are jealous that my house is closer to the hospital than yours and that I don’t invite you to come over for shower at my place – you sound rather ridiculous!

Now, since I’m at the Obgyn department (nearer to the gate), I ‘run’ back home more often. Particularly everyday for lunch and solat, every on-calls, and even sometimes when I need to go to the loo! I’m in love with this contentment and never stop counting my blessings every time I get to go home in between the ‘stressful’ time at work, be it just for a nick of minutes!

I wonder how I’d be later after I graduated and start to face the real world. Can I still get to go back home to wind up every now and then? There is no nearby hospital near my house in Subang Jaya that I could reach by foot… nak kerja dekat hospital mana nanti? Shall I rent a house behind the hospital where I’ll be working at later? I want a house exactly in less than 1 km radius from my work place so I can walk to work. I love walking, it’s environmental friendly and good for health! And besides, I don’t have to find parking for my feet, neither do I have to pay for season passes.

Tempting tempe

So, this is the progression of the story of tempe on my previous post.

The next morning I woke up, I found that the underdone tempe has turned into a fully fermented gorgeous whitey pack of soy beans, I was so excited! – that is what I called raw tempe! *hearts*

Since I was on-call the whole 24 hours (last 2 days), I hadn’t had the time to fried it that it has to be left for another day. I finally fried it last night for dinner. It was a little less good than the normal ready-to-fry tempe, but it is still finger licking good. I eat fried tempe just like that because it tastes better when I only concentrate on its taste without interference from other subjects in my mouth.

Don't I just love tempe? (okay, dah terliur! sekarang juga nak pegi goreng tempe!!)

Papa never say no

Sometimes I grow up in shower. Surprisingly, wise thoughts and brilliant ideas come unexpectedly and most of the time I got them during shower.

For the past few months, I always wished for a brand new smaller lappy (that I carry it and run back and forth the hospital and not feel a weight) and the desire thrives as time goes by – especially when I see people with their cute tiny lappies that can be clutched effortlessly under their smelly armpits. While mine, I have to keep it inside the laptop bag which is not smaller than traveling trunks!

What’s more pathetic is that, the battery doesn’t work long anymore. Not even a minute! (I swear this is not an exaggeration!). The fact that this laptop is only working on power plug on make it heat up faster than a toaster, therefore it cannot be called a laptop or my lap will get toasted if I got this so-called thing on my lap, or I’ll be served with my own scrumptious barbequed drumsticks! Okay, this is exaggerating, because even before it can heap up much energy to heat a dinner, it will automatically (without warning) shut itself down. Frustrating uh?

Recently, it gets more pathetic that out of the blue, the audio output is conked out that it doesn’t emit a single sound. After 1 or 2 days later, it failed to detect any wifi connection that the wifi driver suddenly went missing (biol tak biol laptop I ni?), so I had to called out a technician to fix it and pay quite an amount of money (and to reformate it for the i-don’t-know-how-many times).

Helplessly, I complained this to papa. Not only I voiced out my complains, but I also expressed my suppressed wish for a brand new smaller lappy. As usual, as I always expected, papa never no.

At that time, it really knocked me out that I was always right about him – that for whatever we asked him for, he would not say ‘no’. Yes, he did not say the word ‘no’, neither did he say ‘yes’. His favorite answer has always been ‘minggu depan’. But the fact that ‘papa never say no’ is a psychology trick that never fails to make me feel relieved and somehow believed that he eventually will say ‘yes’. Eventually…

His ‘minggu depan’ is always a motivation for me to wake up and wait for the next week and the next week after another, and another, even another and another. Maybe I’ll wait til he finally make that minggu depan comes, or perhaps, ends my hope with a ‘no’ – but papa never say ‘no’.

I can’t remember exactly his answer and final decision whether if he is getting me a brand new laptop or not. Positively now, I am not getting a new laptop and there is no hint about it. However, I never lost hope in him. Because I know somehow, in someway, by some means, his optimism (by never-say-no) is going to find its way to positivity, even if the answer is no new laptop for me.

But amazingly, after thinking about it, I started to grow a little shrewd, a little bit wiser. I realized that, in this 24 years of breathing through my own nostril, I never, never ever, never once, earn any money by myself for myself (duit raya is an exception). Everything I own, is from someone else’s sweats. The Malaysian citizens’ sweats make my school fees!

Should I still be breathing through my own pair of lungs but devouring on other people money for living, and still ask for more? Huh, Bil?!!!

Now that this laptop is working (yes it is still working) on it’s remaining poise to serve me the ‘best’ to help me endure these lingering years. I need its earnest service for at least another 2 years before I can afford to get a new laptop myself and put this laptop to rest (or to be spanked by my little brother and sisters). Then, I'll hand in my parents towel to wipe their sweats off...

Overall, this laptop is a kaput survivor, and I have to be one! Not an inconsiderable spoilt brad!

I will get something for myself, from myself. Even if it means that I have to save my own money (that I got from my parents’ sweats). Okay, cepat buat tabung, satu hari boleh save seribu rupiah.

Tempe buat besok

I have this huge craze for tempe, especially tempe goreng. Since I am on a total day-off today, I decided not to go to the gym (Zhaf decided this for me since last night, since I was not feeling so fit for working out) but to have a quick morning walk to the market instead, oh I actually prefer to call it ‘pasar’.

Last month, when mama was around and we went to the pasar together, I was surprise to know there’s a kind of tempe which is for sale today but to be prepared tomorrow – I called it tempe buat besok. So then we bought a few packets for my 7-month expecting cousin back in Malaysia. Talking about expecting, and wanting to eat tempe that is especially Jawa made, it gives me a big concern… I wonder if I would ever crave for one later when I’m expecting. Adoi, habis la drooling baby I nanti…

And even after almost a month, I was still curious on how the tempe buat besok works. I mean, the process of fermentation from a raw soy beans to an absolute mouth-watering tempe. So, beside of getting the normal tempe, I got a pack of tempe buat besok, just to see how the fermentation process works.

It has to be put in an open air, therefore I put it on our coffee table in front of the TV, so that I can observe the process everytime I came down to the living hall.

Up til now… it doesn’t show any progress (yet).

Your Mother

I just came down from the operation theater for a caesarian section. One word to describe – awesome!

I like the scrubbing part! Oh wait, I like when the cute butt of the baby pops out too! The incision was fast, effective, and cool, and not to forget, the hecting was one heck of journey – few layers for the uterus, then to the fascia, the subcutan (where layers of fats are) and cutan.

Though I didn't do much (as my job were as simple as controlling the blood and amnion flow by sucking it, and to hold the clamps) but I'm glad I've seen it! And I promise, I'll find more time to join the team next time before I left the department!

"'Who is more entitled to be treated with the best companionship by me?'

The Prophet said, 'Your mother.'

The man said. 'Who is next?'

The Prophet said, 'Your mother.'

The man further said, 'Who is next?'

The Prophet said, 'Your mother.'

The man asked for the fourth time, 'Who is next?'

The Prophet said, 'Your father.' "

(Sahih al-Bukhari, 8:2.)