Big Big Planet Blog2010-07-30T01:41:09ZSim and See MingCopyright 2010, Sim and See MingSPHPBLOGWindows 7, Sim 0 My new notebook seems to be a good machine too, but it runs on Windows 7. I've heard some great things about Windows 7, most of which I didn't understand and mostly from Windows Vista victims. The general impression seemed to be good, so I was looking forward to trying out all the new features.
The first thing I noticed was my notebook had a fancy touchpad interface now which fully intergrated with Windows 7. I could "pinch" to zoom, scroll without using the scroll bar, rotate pictures, plus sometimes unexpectedly bring out a neat looking eye icon that doesn't seem to do anything other than interrupt my cursor movement (I can only do it unexpectedy, I tried doing it intentionally but it cannot be done). I suspect it could be the eye icon is for hitting the back button on your browser because I accidentally hit back on the browser a few times while writing this entry and lost everthing I wrote. This is actually my third try and I'm writing it in Notepad and pasting it into my blog textbox later.
Anyway, let's not sweat the small stuff. On with our story. The first day or so on a new computer, I need to load up all my old apps. My notebook didn't come with a CD drive, so I just plugged in my old workhorse BenQ usb external DVD writer (you had to put one of those together in those days). It got recognised and the driver installed itself within a few seconds. Sweet! At this point, I usually just stick in my old CD's and load up my old apps and drivers. All of these are 32-bit apps, so of course some installed and some didn't. Of those that installed, I know at least 1 that isn't working properly (Canon Camera Window). Anyway, I spent two more late nights looking for replacements for all my old stuff that didnt install (PHP editors, FTP clients, drivers and apps for phones, cameras).
At some point, I dont know when, Windows 7 stopped recognising the external dvd writer. I went into the Devices and Printers menu to look at it and it said it had a problem with the driver. After clicking around for awhile, I found one help menu that reassuringly said I could right click on the device icon and troubleshoot. All my past troubleshooting menu adventures have always ended up in tears, but it seemed like the most risk-free thing to try at that point, so I went ahead. After a few short minutes of detecting problems, diagnosing problems, attempting to solve problems, my computer helpfully informed me that sorry, I was out of luck.
I wanted to get on the internet to find help, but then of course my internet service provider (Telekom) decided it didn't want to provide any internet services for the night.
This morning, when the service came back on, I looked and quite a few people had the same problem. CD-ROm worked for awhile, then stopped working. You had to go into the system registry and edit one of the driver registries (the last time I heard of anyone having to do that was in the late nineties).
So now, that's done, I'm waiting to go home and try and plug in the external dvd-writer to see if I'm back on track.
Meanwhile, Canon Camera Window still doesn't work, but I discovered I could remove the SD card from the camera, plug it into the computers built in card reader, and have Canon Zoombrowser (which thankfully does work) load it up. It actually downloads faster this way, but I would still like to get the old method working as well, just to feel complete. After that, I need to test out all the other apps and drivers that seemingly installed properly, to find out what else doesn't work. And perhaps after that, I will have to live for a period with the nagging fear that any number of apps that do work may stop working at some point.
Microsoft's tagline for Windows 7 is "Your PC, simplified".]]>http://bigbigplanet.com/blog/index.php?entry=entry100409-1146302010-04-09T00:00:00Z2010-04-09T00:00:00ZWe got Adscheck it out . There's new-ish reviews and build ups.
I've earned 0 cents so far. My wife says I'm several years too late. We'll see. I got some fresh (I think anyway) ideas for informative content with regards to my hobbies - RC cars and machining. If nothing else, it'll keep me working on the site to keep it from delapitating.
You don't see ads on this blog and Max's blog because I'm not sure if the scripts will jive with the rest of the code and frankly, I can't be bothered to find out.]]>http://bigbigplanet.com/blog/index.php?entry=entry100112-1405412010-01-12T00:00:00Z2010-01-12T00:00:00ZThings can only get easier
The day Max was born, my wife and I realised that being parents is mostly about worrying. When you have a newborn in the house, you never really let yourself forget how fragile they are. I was told to make sure he slept with his head to one side, so he wouldn’t choke and drown if he vomited. This made perfect sense, yet I never would have thought of it on my own. I wondered what else I didn’t know about taking care of babies. Just carrying him seemed like something that I could mess up badly, so I made up this habit of reminding myself to support his neck, lest I forgot and broke it.
I remember the first night he came home with us. We had bought this little barrier to put on our bed, so he could sleep in the middle without being crushed by either of us. I remember waking up to check that he was still breathing, and it always seemed like a minor miracle that he still was. I’d never been responsible for anyone in my life. I’d taken care of pets and plants before, but even then, I often mishandled them – watering too much, not watering enough, feeding too much, feeding the wrong things, not knowing enough, knowing enough but doing too much. Yet, here I was, in charge of a person - one so tiny and weak, he can’t even turn his head, and I’ve been taking care of him for several hours and he’s still breathing!
It must have been around this time that I told myself things would get easier. He would grow bigger and stronger and I wouldn’t have to worry about him then.
He took his time, but he did grow bigger and stronger. Soon, he was starting to crawl around in bed. We worried that he might fall off the bed when we weren’t watching so we put some pillows around him. Soon, he got strong enough to climb on top of the pillows and promptly proceeded to fall out of bed.
After that, we stopped letting him sleep alone. Chores and errands just about came to a halt as someone always had to be on falling baby duty. My wife was still working at the time, so we had a nanny during the day. She had the foresight to train Max to climb down from the bed as soon as he was able to stand up. We thought that was brilliant - he would learn about the height of the bed, and about falling and about being careful and he’d be safe again. Things would get easier then.
He did eventually learn to climb down from the bed by himself but he never did learn to stop rolling off the bed in his sleep.
About a month after his first birthday, he got quite ill. He’d had bouts of runny nose before, but the pediatrician always put off prescribing medication and he was always able to shrug it off on his own, with help from mommy’s milk. But this time, the flu got worse and he started coughing and making this frightening sound – a sound no child should ever have to make. He needed several trips to the doctor to use the nebuliser, which he naturally hated. Feeding him his medicine was an exercise that required two strong adults and plenty of washing up after.
Another thing that became apparent about this time was that he was getting quite heavy. Both me and my wife had tired arms and sore backs from carrying him. I told her not to worry, as he’d be walking soon anyway, so we wouldn’t need to carry him much longer.
Sure enough, it wasn’t long before he took his first step, but it wasn’t so much a walk – more of a drunken stagger. We were busier than ever, stooping over him with our aching backs, trying to keep him from putting his eye out on stone steps and table corners. It was just a short phase, I told myself. Soon, he’d be walking steady. Things would get easier then.
Before long, he was walking and running. More running than walking, and mostly in the direction opposite to where we wanted to go, so we started having to run after him whenever we took him out. Shopping trips started taking twice as long and became three times as tiring.
You know what I said then? I said things will get easier when he starts talking and we’re able to communicate with him.
Now he is almost two and a half, communicating well, and stubborn as an ox. He’s resistant to potty training, impossibly resistant to weaning, sits on the floor when we ask him to walk, runs all over the place when we need him to sit down, insists on eating with his hands, doesn’t like drinking water, doesn’t like drinking powdered milk or fresh milk, gets upset when he’s hungry, refuses to eat when he’s upset, only wants to wear his smelliest pair of shoes, doesn’t want to wear socks, doesn’t like to take baths and doesn’t like coming out of baths.
Still, I’m sure, things will get easier. ]]>http://bigbigplanet.com/blog/index.php?entry=entry100106-0321462010-01-05T00:00:00Z2010-01-05T00:00:00ZNew vise jaws I've had this vise for several years now. It's cheap and it works but the jaws aren't very well made.
Each jaw is held on by countersunk screws. Some of the screw holes aren't aligned properly, so the screws don't sit flush in the countersinks. Whenever I grip aluminium plate with the vise, the screws gouge into the surface of the aluminium. Time to make some new jaws out of aluminium.
Each side of the vise has a small step, so the new jaws will have to have a step as well. The surface of the step is curved unevenly so I need to flatten them first.
On the movable jaw, I just milled it flat. The mini mill didn't complaint too much about the hard material. On the fixed jaw, I had to grind and file, which took a long time.
After two nights and one Saturdays worth of work, I managed to fully ruin both pieces I was working on. The first one, I forgot the size of the screw holes and drilled them 1mm too big (plus I forgot to centre drill them).
On the second one, I managed to (A) cut the step 2mm too wide on the first pass, (B) counterbored the holes on the wrong side and (C) make the counterbore holes 1mm too small.
Lessons learnt: I need draw better plans than this before I start cutting, and if something doesn't seem right, I need to check my measurements.
A nice mess to clean up later. Oh well, at least that's one resolution done. Started out making something useful but ended up making something totally pointless.]]>http://bigbigplanet.com/blog/index.php?entry=entry091226-2123402009-12-26T00:00:00Z2009-12-26T00:00:00ZThe selfish weekend
Ahhhhh… One weekend left to the year and there are no more weddings, birthdays, house warmings, full moons, farewells, welcome home parties, annual dinners, store openings, soft launches, grand launches, religious celebrations, new years of one type or another or anything of that sort on my radar. I hope I didn’t just jinx it, but it really looks like I can sit back, relax and be totally selfish this weekend.
Not that I don’t enjoy festivities but, at the risk of sounding not very 1Malaysia, I get a bit overwhelmed by all the celebrations in this country. That’s why I am really looking forward to this weekend. In a funny way, it feels like the year is finally starting for me.
To celebrate, I’ve come up with some resolutions. Not for 2010, but for the rest of 2009. Here they are:
1. Make something useful or decorative or totally pointless on my milling machine. 2. Start the machining section of this website 3. Finish up day 2 and day 3 of the new Japan pages and put up a link 4. Find the notes to our South Africa, Cambodia and New Zealand trips 5. Write a blog rant I’ve been planning for years 6. Wire up my new RC car and take it out for a spin 7. Go for a swim 8. Bake a bread 9. Unwrap and watch The Simpsons Movie DVD 10. Learn the words to Mr Tamborine Man
I know what you’re thinking, but if you consider that I work on these things during the idle seconds of my life when I am truly alone, it’s actually quite an ambitious list. ]]>http://bigbigplanet.com/blog/index.php?entry=entry091221-1202562009-12-21T00:00:00Z2009-12-21T00:00:00ZFamily Feud It’s easy to see that the topics of this blog are mostly rants about my wife. This is not because I don’t love her. It’s just that ranting is what I do. I cannot not do it. I know this makes me a petty person, but this is how I deal with all the petty little things that eat at me daily. There’s an old Chinese saying that goes great men do not remember squabbles with petty folk. Great men don’t waste time sweating the small stuff of course, because they are too busy doing great things. I, on the other had, enjoy telling stories a little more than is healthy, and therefore am doomed to collect the smallest details that life tosses my way. You could call it a bad habit. I blame my poor memory for it. I like to write things down because I don’t trust my own memory (and come to think of it, the memory of others as well). My dad has lived through some interesting times and has collected more than a handful of pretty amazing stories to tell. My life pales in comparison, yet I have this great fear that one day, I would have lived through a great story and not remember much of it. This is why I write things like what you read on this blog. Unfortunately, this also means I’m not headed in a very good direction as far as greatness goes.
I’m not ignorant of the fact that washing dirty linen in public is widely considered foolish. Then again, we can’t afford to all think like that, can we? We can’t all pretend domestic disagreements don’t happen. Somebody has to write about them.
I do, of course, have other rant subjects beside my wife. I just don’t blog about them as much because I can talk to her about these things. Tonight, I had a spark of ingenuity. I thought why not talk to my wife about the issues we have with each other?
We’d already had a heated discussion earlier tonight about some really stupidly small things. After cooling off, I thought I’d not blog about them and we could just talk about them and resolve them one at a time. For some reason, this seemed like a good idea at the time. I was even feeling good about myself for coming up with such a novel idea.
I thought, okay I’d just apologise to her and then tell her my side of the story. I asked if she wanted to listen, to which she said she already heard it. If I was wise, I would have read the signs and quit right then. Me being me, neither wise nor great, pushed on – “No, that’s not the whole story, would you like to listen to the whole story?”
Eventually, she relented, so I started my story. I’m not a particularly fast or loud speaker, so I guess it’s not surprising that the first half and what would have been the second half of my first sentence were interjected by her side of the story, in its entirety, told in a high-pitched, high-volumed voice (which may or may not be considered yelling, depending on point-of-view). From there, I tried – I really tried – to salvage the situation with the calmest voice I could muster to request I be allowed to finish my story, to which she said she’d already heard it. I really really tried not to get drawn into another argument but I failed. Anyway, from the amount I was able to say and the amount she was able to say, we determined that all my difficulties stemmed from my inabilities to deal with hardship because I was brought up in a sheltered environment while her difficulties were caused by her being “stressed” and the fact that she was “stunned by (the) cockroach”.
As I mentioned before, my memory isn’t all that great, so it is conceivable that I might again one day have this brilliant idea of trying to talk calmly to my wife after we’ve had a heated discussion. When that happens, please, somebody give me a good knock on the head. ]]>http://bigbigplanet.com/blog/index.php?entry=entry091113-0259182009-11-12T00:00:00Z2009-11-12T00:00:00ZThe Dishwasher Two years ago, we were renovating our current house and one of the things my wife insisted she couldn’t live without was a dishwasher. I didn’t like the idea at first. My mom had a dishwasher that none of us used, although I forgot the reasons why. But my wife’s girlfriend had one which she used daily so the dishwasher quickly became a must-have item. When I say must-have, I mean my wife absolutely refused to move into our new place unless it came with a dishwasher.
After looking around for awhile, we decided on a small, unobtrusive unit called a dish drawer. It came with some eco-friendly features so it fit into our self-proclaimed eco-friendly themed at the time (By now of course, we’ve come to realize our home is anything but eco-friendly).
Anyway, the dishdrawer looked adequate for a small family like ours until we tried to use it for the first time. According to the manual, you’re not supposed to slot the dishes next to one another if you expect them to be clean. You can’t just put the plates straight in either. You have to first take care to clear out all the leftover food and thick gravy to make sure you don’t clog up the delicate innards of the machine. Also, if you have big plates, they take up two rows of slots. If you have a bowl, it will not fit into any of the slots so you just kind of hang it precariously over the top of the entire rack. If you had a pan or a pot, you can probably get it in somehow but it involves moving all the racks about – an operation that takes about three times as much time and effort as washing the pot yourself.
So on the very first day, I already had an inkling that this machine might not make dishwashing the fun family activity it looked like in all the brochures. To add to the challenge, my wife wanted certain items hand-washed. These included her expensive crystal glasses, her antique saucers, her vintage plates, her Japanese stuff, her souvenir mugs, her heirloom stuff, her new stuff and anything else we didn’t want to risk getting chipped or cracked.
The dish drawer came with a small trial packet of soap powder which we are two thirds of the way towards finishing. I reckon we used the machine about six times in the two years since we installed it, possibly all within the first six months when we still felt the need to justify our purchase.
About a week ago, my wife found that the dish drawer has been annexed by a small army of cockroaches. We ran a cycle through it, thinking that would get rid of the problem. Afterwards, I poked around the inside to see if there were any survivors. A small filter at the bottom of the dishwasher was retaining some water. I never noticed this before, so I wasn’t sure if it was normal or if we had a blockage. Assuming it was normal was the cheaper option so that’s what I did.
The next day, my wife informed me that we had a problem. She had run the dishwasher again and halfway through the cycle, there was an error message. The whole thing was filled with soap suds. I tried to take it apart and help the blockage along with a toilet plunger, but the water remained at the bottom of that filter dish, so I gave up and put everything back together. It was about then that my wife sheepishly confessed to having used regular dishwashing liquid in the dish drawer, so that could have been the problem too.
When the dishwasher repairman came, he sorted everything out. The problem wasn’t a blockage or cockroaches. The regular dishwashing liquid just made too much suds and got into some circuit board. He dried everything with a hair dryer, rinsed the soap out, and everything was fine again. The leftover water at the bottom filter tray at the end of each wash was normal. This was some concern to me because bacteria breed in water. But that was the way dishwashers are designed. They’re meant to be used daily, so the water wasn’t supposed to stay there for long periods of time.
At the moment, our solution is to just run the machine in rinse mode every few days or so. So, on top of the initial cost of the purchase and installation, our not-in-use eco-friendly dishwasher is now costing us electricity and water every week. ]]>http://bigbigplanet.com/blog/index.php?entry=entry090915-1239202009-09-15T00:00:00Z2009-09-15T00:00:00ZThe power of metaphors In the end, I gave up trying to sleep and we started to diagnose why this thing was bothering her so much. It bugged me a little that she was spending so much time on this, so I reminded her of some of our bigger concerns and concluded by saying "You're worrying about the wrong things."
As soon as I said it, I realised I'd done the 'insensitive' thing women always accuse us of. So, the whole bad sitcom script unfolded from there - she just needed comforting, she just needed someone to listen, why can't I just tell her not to worry (which, in my defense, I kind of did).
The diagnosis went on for awhile. Maybe something else happened before that we didn't know about. Maybe that other person was stressed out when she said these things, and in any case, what she said wasn't true anyway. Maybe other things have been bugging her and she's not just angry at this one thing. Maybe we just need to pay attention to this or that.
We weren't getting anywhere as far as solutions were concerned, but she was comforted just by our talking, which made me realise we've been doing so little of it. Soon, however, our conversation grinded to a halt, largely because she was distracted by her Blackberry. I could never compete with the Blackberry, so I pulled the blanket back over me and closed my eyes.
Then I heard her say "Okay, I'm getting some good advice from the Internet - It says here, 'Don't water your weeds.' I shall not water my weeds."
I thought quietly about this for awhile, and then these words fell out of my mouth...
"Ya, in other words, you're worrying about the wrong things."
]]>http://bigbigplanet.com/blog/index.php?entry=entry090723-0351142009-07-22T00:00:00Z2009-07-22T00:00:00ZSim vs the rocking chair We were at a garage sale this morning. A nice American man by the name of Kurt was moving and selling off most of his things dirt cheap. We met the Soul Doctor there, and we were supposed to help her pick out some things for her new place. As usual, my wife ended up buying half the things on sale and a few things that were not (at first). We got some more kitchen utensils, three folding chairs and one slightly broken rocking chair. We neither needed nor had space for a rocking chair but my wife liked it, so I knew logic wasn’t going to come into play. My wife loves old stuff. I call them junk. She calls them antiques. I say they’re old, but she says they have history. I don’t care much about items with other people’s history. It’s not my dad or uncle who used the old coffee shop stools we bought or my grandpa who sat in this rocking chair, so to me, everything she buys is just all old, cracked, dusty but otherwise ordinary. My wife, however, totally buys into this faux family history stuff. She once scolded an antique seller for wiping off the dust off a table before delivering it to our place.
Getting things into the car was a challenge as we had with us our visiting cousin, our baby, our baby car seat and our huge toe-crusher stroller. My wife was determined that everything would fit if she could just get everyone to cram into the back seat. I’m normally a pretty sensible guy but I’ve seen my wife pack in two wooden chairs with armrests plus a coffee table into the back seat of our compact sedan, which was something I never thought I’d see in this lifetime. So I reserved judgement until we’ve given her plan at least a good try.
No matter how we rotated the rocking chair, though, it seemed to always have one dimension that was an inch too wide or one armrest jutting out too far. After twenty minutes of huffing and puffing, even my wife’s optimism was starting to flag, so we gave up and left the rocking chair there until we’ve gone home and emptied the car.
Later that afternoon, when everyone had settled down at home, I emptied our car, took out the stroller, removed the baby seat, and headed out to pick up that rocking chair. I drove through two tolls. It was a hot afternoon even by KL standards. I was sweating in places that shouldn’t be sweating, but I was patient and obliging at least for the earlier part of my mission.
Patrick and Min were there when I arrived. We exchanged hellos and goodbyes and then I picked up the rocking chair. Patrick said, “You sure your car can fit ah?” I thought, “Well, it almost fit before and I had 3 passengers, a car seat, and a big stroller, plus other assorted junk then,” so I said as much. I declined all offers for help and headed back to the car with a rocking chair over my head.
The first thing I discovered was that the boot of the car was useless. No matter which way I rotated it, I couldn’t get more than a third of the rocking chair in there. The backseats were hopeless as well as the doors couldn’t open wide enough to even let in half a rocking chair. The only hope left was the front passenger seat and we had already tried that earlier. I was starting to have a bad feeling about the whole affair, but since I'd driven all across town for this thing, I was prepared to give it another try. I pushed the seat as far back as it would go and inclined the back rest all the way down. Then I tried loading the rocking chair. I tried sliding it in gently at first, wiggling it wherever it met a resisting piece of car upholstery. Failing that, I resorted to shoving and banging. I tried getting it in upside down, right side up, sideways on its side, sideways on its back, sideways on its front. I tried pushing the drivers seat all the way back, with the back rest fully inclined as well. How was I planning to drive the car home? I had no idea, but I was really fixed on getting the arm chair loaded. I don’t remember pushing anything as hard as I pushed that rocking chair. I remembered wondering at one point if the roof of the car was going to get dented from my efforts. I even tried putting the car into first gear and putting down the hand brake, thinking that it would make a difference but it didn’t. If the chair had been two inches smaller in any, just any, of its three dimensions, I’m sure I could have gotten it in.
As I came back up the driveway with the rocking chair over my head, I heard Patrick saying calmly to the others, “The rocking chair is back.”
I told Kurt I’d leave it there and we’d figure something out over the next two days. It was a long drive home, so I had time to bring my anger to a nice simmer before seeing my wife.
I told her I was done having anything to do with that rocking chair. I decided I would not move it, fix it, store it nor sit on it. So you could say my wife finally bought something I have a little history with. ]]>http://bigbigplanet.com/blog/index.php?entry=entry090502-1717332009-05-02T00:00:00Z2009-05-02T00:00:00ZClimbing again Lately, my back has been aching to the point where it really interfered with my life. By about dinner time each night, I didn’t want to do anything but lie down. I went to see a chiropractor and an orthopedic doctor. Both of them diagnosed me as spending too much time sitting down and not getting enough exercise. Apparently, it’s a very common problem among people my age (late thirties). I was handed a piece of paper off the orthopedic doctor’s shelf, which basically described about ten exercises I could do. I took a look at the exercises and figured they basically targeted the same muscles used in climbing. I’m not much good with exercise regiments or anything involving discipline, so last week, I decided it was just easier if I started visiting the climbing gym again.
I knew I was really out of shape so I tried to take it easy. It was quite difficult to judge what I could or couldn’t do. The good news is that I still remembered how to do it. My balance was more than a bit off, and my muscles were weak from two years of sloth, but I knew, generally, which hand went where, and what to do with my feet. I was getting quite comfortable with the moves when I came into this one part where I needed to swing my body in a slow controlled way to reach a far hold. Even though my mind remembered the move, it forgot that it accomplished it with a younger, fitter body two years ago. It was at this point that my body decided to send it a friendly reminder in the form of a cramp all up one side of my torso, which put an end to the climbing nonsense for that day.
Today, I went to the climbing gym again. I haven’t done anything special to keep fit or get better at climbing since the last visit. I haven’t been watching my diet. I haven’t done any stretching. I haven’t done any exercise apart from the casual bicycle ride with my wife and son. Surprisingly, everything felt much easier this week. I think my balance is slowly returning to me. As always, the fingers are the weak point, so I try not to work them too hard. I thought that since I’m starting almost from scratch, I’d do it right this time and build finger and upper body strength as slowly as possible, so that my feet have time to learn to balance properly. Strength comes eventually, but bad habits are hard to break.
The climbing session passed almost without any drama this time. My fingers were getting too tired so I decided to just climb the slab (a wall that leans away from you, which is easy on the hands, but you still need to use your feet and legs). My wife and son came into the gym about that time. I took a short break to give the boy some attention and show him around the place and then went back to finishing up on the slab. It was then that my boy made the decision that he was going to be a climber after all.
