There and Back Again

fibrate.net has been resurrected from the blank white screen (actually more scary than the blank blue screen).

The bug?

My D-link router.

How?

No idea, but I’m thrilled to rediscover PPPoE. Not like I need wireless connectivity considering my Mac is hardly portable. I could have saved myself all the trouble if only I had thought of simpler solutions first. Duh!

A Series Of Unfortunate Events

As many of you are well aware, my fibrate.net site is officially DEAD. The painful journey to its demise is reminiscent of a hospital stay fraught with complications.

First, the chief complaint : Inability to save or publish posts.

A few differential diagnoses sprang to mind : bug with new WordPress upgrade 2.7, problem with host server, problem with web browser, Streamyx.

So I tried upgrading to Safari 4. Failed. Turned out it wasn’t compatible with my current version of Mac OS. So I upgraded to the latest version of Mac OS…but there was a bug with the installation process. It hung. On a Mac! A quick googling revealed that this was a known bug, and to overcome it I had to remove my Updates folder (read the pathophysiology, but I don’t remember it now). Still failed. Turned out I also needed a security update. Duh!

Finally, I got Safari 4 working. Still couldn’t post.

Firefox couldn’t even load my site.

Checked with my host. Everything was fine on his end.

Thought of further upgrading to WP 2.7.1. The automatic upgrade plugin suddenly didn’t work. No sweat. Downloaded it from WordPress and manually transferred the files via a ftp server ( I use Cyberduck). The upgrade involved overwriting certain folders and deleting and installing some. You know what? Now Cyberduck started to act up too! The more the merrier mah! I couldn’t transfer a single file. I couldn’t even restore the deleted folders. Googled for help…and then decided maybe I should upgrade to the latest version of Cyberduck. That I did. Outcome? The same.

Now, after excruciating hours spent in front of the monitor and weeks of frustration, fibrate.net is a blank white canvas. I hope to announce its imminent resurrection here someday. Till then, point your browser window here!

Bonding Over Pixels

While I don’t condone the acquisition of ultrasound machines by non-medical professionals for home use, I can fully comprehend a certain Mr Tom Cruise’s motivation for purchasing one.

If I could help it I’d want to see my baby everyday…even if the images rendered are of low resolution and monochromatic. It’s been 2 weeks since I last had my scan, and I can’t wait for the next one! And I’m rather certain I’m not the only pregnant woman on this planet who feels this way.

The reassurance of fetal well-being is comforting – to see for yourself the definite proof of the life you created…the echoes of a beating heart, to know that your baby is growing appropriately despite the hormone-rendered maternal anorexia, and that there’s no gross morphological abnormality (will soon be having a detailed scan). People with borderline neurosis like me (just kidding!) tend to worry a little too much. Having witnessed many unfavourable fetal outcomes in the line of my work has not been of any help at all.

The big thing for me though, is the maternal-fetal bonding afforded by the ultrasound. I’d walk around the house sometimes craving for some form of palpable interaction, patting my abdomen and having little monologues with my little one. A kick or two in response would be nice, but it won’t be another few weeks before I can perceive any fetal movement. Watching him/her on the ultrasound monitor in real time brings us a little closer. It’s a thrill to see even a tiny stirring motion, or a wild fling of a limb. A bundle of energy, this one (or could this be the result of a cup of tea or two per week I’ve been havng on the sly?).

Till the next scan…

The Olive Branch

How do you cure the bad blood between 2 feuding departments in your workplace?

Erase memories of temper tantrums, bad behaviour, object throwing and name calling?

Why, have a goodwill get-together to foster ties, of course. A bowling outing followed by steamboat dinner has been proposed.

All very noble, but please count me out, because for heaven’s sake, I am three decades old and am at a very mature stage in my life where I can decide for myself exactly the kind of company that I desire. If we could get along before, we won’t need a farcical outing to bond. If we never hit it off right from the beginning, hitting a few pins and sharing a bowl of soup ain’t going to endear us to each other. The core problem is a lack of respect for each other, often resulting in misperceived superiority and unfair criticisms of our work.

Don’t get me wrong. I’m not being anti-social and unfriendly. I think I get along rather well with everyone at work, but I don’t think the real issue here is friendship. Heck, you don’t even have to like me. Just check your arrogance at the door when you enter the hospital. A little professionalism is all I ask.

I’ll be having leg cramps on that day. You can bet on that.

Crime Of Passion

For the record, we are good, honest folks with no previous record of smuggling utensils or blankets out of airplanes. Or ta pau-ing food from a buffet spread.

Yet hubby brought these home for me after breakfast, stuffed inconspicuously into his shirt pocket. Straight from the buffet.

 

It’s a crime of passion all right. After all, how do you say no to a pregnant lady craving a sodium fix?

*Still having no luck finding Marmite/Bovril in Seremban and selected supermarkets in KL. Laying off Champagne Marmite for obvious reasons. Oh no, please don’t take this as a desperate solicitation for free yeast extract!