How do power supplies work?

Intriguing question isn’t it? We all use them whether it’s for computers, tv’s or household appliances. But how do they really work? By definition , the power supply must function by feeding electrical current to an electrical load. The common power supply is called “linear” although the process of transforming DC current to AC current is non-linear.
Take the usual battery for example. It’s a device that has a load of chemical energy and it transforms it to electrical energy. They come in all sorts of sizes and shapes, from miniature ones used for hearing aids to car batteries.
One of the most used power supply is the switched mode power supply. Mostly we use this kind of supply for desktop computers. The AC voltage is filtered thus obtaining AC electrical flow, in order for your computer to function properly! The switching takes place at very high frequencies , usually form 10 khz to 1Mhz , therefore facilitating the use of transformers and capacitors that are cheaper, smaller and lighter than the usual linear ones, more information
One of the “smartest” power supplies are the programmable ones. In my opinion these are a must in every household that intensively uses hi-tech appliances such a as computers , home theatre’s etc., because you can set a certain value for the voltage, that the power supply recognizes and stops every piece of technology it is connected to, before it’s to late! This happens when abnormal high value voltage flow trough the electrical network and burns everything it encounters without any warning , even if all your stuff is turned off at the time.
There are other overload protections such as fuses and circuit breakers. The fuse contains a very small wire that will melt if to much electrical energy will flow trough! The breaker contains a trigger that shuts the circuit down , and it’s much safer if you ask me!


I've heard that 'it's better to have love and lost than to have never loved at all', but have you heard of 'never have loved at all and feeling the loss'?

I think that's what happened. I was apprehensive to describe why Friday was so wretched, but last night as I was trying to sleep, I figured that maybe it should be done. Let me tell you this story.

Last Friday was wretched because I think I got my heart accidentally broken. It was the last thing I expected that could ever happen. See, there's this guy I know and we've been friends for about 7 years now. And that's it. However, on Friday morning before work officially started, and was checking this networking program where I noticed he had changed his status from 'single' to 'in a relationship'.

It was a noisy morning that day, with folks walking in and out. Had it been quiet, I might have heard a snap of something breaking into two. The place where my heart was was numb with pain. I had stopped breathing for a few seconds and when I finally did, the tears just rolled out. I had to run to the bathroom. Could I have been secretly harbouring feelings for this guy that even I wasn't aware of?

I haven't had the chance to talk to him after that (he works far away across miles of ocean) , so I have no idea who the girl is or anything... and as a friend, I'm supposed to be happy for him, but now I find myself wondering what is it that is wrong with me.

I managed to surpress all those thoughts that night by running for 40 minutes until I was so tired, and spent Saturday out with the girls. I stayed away as far as I could from any computer that day. In the end, I thought that it was just a shock, and that I actually did not have any romantic feelings for this guy and all was fine.

But on Sunday, when I went to order a copy of HP and the Deathly Hallows, my mom casually remarked:
Mom: Pity the guy... he got you the previous book. Friends don't do that. Is it more than friends? (she was referring to the fact that he bought for me the 6th HP book two years ago, (books are ridiculously expensive in Malaysia) and that she and my dad got worried because I kept saying he was my friend and they thought that there's something more and one of us were bound to get hurt someday) How could I tell her that he has someone else, and after all this while after learning that fact I realised that I did like him - more than a friend?

Upon hearing what she said, the dull ache came back in a gush. I looked away lest she saw the tears welling in my eyes. I shook my head and said 'no'. Throughout the day, I felt like crying and did so too. Only the fact that I had a mild flu hid the fact that the red eyes and nose was because I cried and not really the flu.

I'm so ridiculously sad, but I find myself unable to tell anyone about this... not my close freinds from uni, or school, or my parents or even my sister. My parents and sister should not know how much this information is hurting me.

It's awful, to think that you realise that you have feeling for someone only after you know that you have no chance to get in the picture. I have the first experience of a broken heart without ever having the feeling of being properly in love. What am I going to do?


I put this post up last night on my other blog

So, there's just a small gap of three months to pass by for GOF to finally play, and for HP and the Deathly Hallows to finally hit the bookstores and send it's legions of fans to tears (more so because it is the final book and there will be no more to wait anticipatedly for, as opposed to Harry finally dying together with Voldermort - my predicted ending)
Anyways, back to the real world... as I was walking down the stairs after work today, I spotted a fairly large butterfly hovering nearby. As expected I kinda ducked to avoid head on collision with the said butterfly. I'm cool with insects, I just don't want them flying near me. I once single handedly caused an old radio to fall off it's place just because a big fat grasshopper decided to hop in to say hi!

When I was roomates with D, she used to say that butterflies brought good luck to those who stumbled upon its path, which is what I did, and surprisingly, the butterfly decided to stalk me. It trailed beside me for about a hundred metres or so until it got bored.
For a moment, I actually thought that someone had transfigured themselves into a butterfly (with brown markings to blend in) to spy on our workplace - security is bloody tight! Hence the reference to HP in the first paragraph. I tossed the idea aside as soon as I left the parking lot.

Coincidently, I met another good luck sign on my way back. There was a rainbow in the sky (at 6:40pm!) where a passing cloud fulfilled its destiny by raining for a bit - judging from the slightly wet road... the sky remained clear as ever, hiding all evidence of having rained,except for the rainbow,that is.

As of now, 9:40pm on this very normal Thursday, nothing of great significance has happened yet.

This part is for today:
Oh boy! Without going into details, I proclaim today to be the wretchedest day ever! Somebody kill me please? And screw that butterfly!


In a frantic rush for the Jul 21st deadline, I typed this out and almost sent it for the competition. I have been 'blocked' ever since :(

How do you write a story when there is no story to be written and you’re well into your 11th hour? Well, not yours exactly, as you’re not really on your death bed grasping desperately onto whatever little life you have got, but there’s a mean deadline waiting. As the minutes tick by cruelly, you almost give up in despair, for who has ever heard of anyone with such a predicament?

Anyway, you just continue with your attempt to write. It can be done, you believe although it must be admitted that it will definitely be a difficult process. In the end, you will finally know that if it can’t be done, then you will not be reading this.

How you managed to get yourself into this mess, you ask yourself quietly as you see the clock at the right hand corner of your computer change into the next minute in a blink of the eye. You know for certain that you’re never going to get that minute back!

You scan your brain for an idea to expand into a wonderful tale that could enthral future readers, wondering why it is suddenly turning its back on you. You begin to believe that both your brain and your muse have gone for a long vacation and conveniently forgot to inform you about it, and now you’re stuck with no story, with nowhere to turn to. Crazy ideas that pop into your head seem to head nowhere. It is all a clutter of unconnected thoughts that pervade the empty crevices of your brain and they end up being discarded like garbage in the bin outside.

Finally you give in to your fingers as they move across the keyboard at speeds you never expected them to achieve.


This happened some time back... when I was at home, forcing myself to read a book which I started in December but find it almost impossible to complete... I blame it on all the other distractions!

Anyway, my dad was watching football (or soccer depending on which part of the world you're from) on the telly and was rooting for Liverpool, whereas I was not really rooting for any team in particular. Well, except for the team that was playing against Liverpool....

Me: (in a quiet whisper) Man U! Man U!
Dad: I thought you quit supporting them after Cantona left.
Me: Yeah
Dad: Then read your book... Liverpool has to win tonight (day). Anyway, why are you suddenly watching football?
Me: I just saw a cute guy
Dad: I think I know who you're talking about
Me: Really?

"It's that one right?" dad asked pointing to a guy in white. "He's Neville." Dad said rather nonchalantly.

There are 22 people on the field excluding the referees. 11 of them play for Man U. There's a 1 in 11 chance for my dad to guess the right one and he said it correctly the first time. Could the myth about parents knowing their kids well could be really true?


Where is the fine line between being a fan and being an addict?

I always thought that I was just a fan, be it in the simplest form of 3 in 1 with some hot water, or at the mamak, or even the version with all the fancy names... think frapuccino!

Yesterday, I realised (rather horrifiedly!) that I've passed the stage of just being a fan and had graduated to the status of an addict. As to when on earth did this strange occurence take place, I have no idea.

Now, it's been a habit of late (on working days, that is) where I have a cup in the mornings or during lunch break, where I rummage my bag for that red tube of deliciousness that exudes an aroma that fills the air with delight, but to my dismay, I found none!

I rummaged again, but all I found were rectangular packets of cereal... no way, this can't have happened. I'm sure I replenished my supply just last week. Distressed, I opened my desk drawer, hoping against all odds that a stray red tube might be lurking underneath the pencil and pens and business cards. Alas! There was nothing there... just an empty drawer where the business cards looked as though they were secretly laughing at me... "She's addicted... Ha! Ha! Ha!" they whisper amongst themselves. Presuming that I can't hear them.

You can bet that the rest of the day was pretty much miserable... the hours stretched painfully, the sleepy feeling overwhelming as the afternoon turned to early evening. The line has been crossed. There's no turning back... I have made myself into a slave of the beans that mean the world to thousands of others out there. I'm in the 'ín crowd'.

Dear world, welcome a brand new coffee addict!


It's just a few days past 3 months since I breathed a sigh of relief that my attempt to learn a new language has come to a close. I sat for a nerve-wrecking examination that lasted for like what felt like forever, and missed out on a friend's important day because of clashing schedules, and stopped my NaNoWriMo novel at 32000 words to study!

Anyway, the exam was fast forgotten, what with the mad rush to get other things finished and general mundane stuff such as work and all... until one day a paper with a few of our names was passed around, seeking our opinion on taking further classes, to upgrade our level from 4 to 3 (it's backwards, I know)

I nonchalantly crossed the space next to my name... No way am I gonna put myself through that torturous process again.

Yeah, so, the results came out the other day (Thursday) and it was opened by the people at work! What embarrassment! However, I suppose after all the good luck wishes that I received from you all, I kinda need to tell that I actually passed (Not with flying colours of course... that will only happen when pigs fly! Ha! Ha! Well, I sort of failed my listening test, but overall I passed. (Jumping with joy here)... It also looks like the few sacrifices I made paid off... Two less things to be bitter about!

I wonder if this is how the world really works or is it just me, but despite passing, I'm afraid I'm still unable to converse in Japanese fluently.... This might be a future real life scenario:
Japanese person: Speaks in high speed Japanese...babbles on...
Me: Hai... (pretending to understand)
Japanese person: Continues speaking in high speed, and adds a 'ka' to the back of her sentence intonating a question while looking at me questioningly...
Me: Ah, wakarimasen (I don't understand) followed by a foolish grin.