浪漫的事

Mohamed 問我有沒有看過這麼多螢火蟲。我說有，我來這裡已經是第四個夏天了。
只要天色漸暗，樹叢裡，草地上，就開始冒火光，一閃一滅間，人就痴迷著望著，好像在看煙火一樣。

有一年，一件浪漫的事發生在夏天傍晚的草地上，那個人伸手雙掌間含住了一隻螢火蟲，他輕輕的張開手掌，我痴迷的看著那蟲子一閃一滅，然後他輕輕的向上拖了一下，螢火蟲飛回整群的一閃一滅中。
他不知道他對我做了一件非常浪漫的事情，我非常感動，一種真摯的悸動。

回想起來，刻意安排的所謂浪漫的事情對我都發生不了作用。
有個人在電話另一頭彈著吉他對我唱歌，有個人送來九十九朵紅玫瑰，有個人用毛筆寫了情詩給我。
我點點頭抿抿嘴，微笑跟他們說再見。那樣的浪漫打不進我心坎，卻只是證明了他們都是好人，我不是。
I am mean. 找不到一個適當的中文詞來解釋 mean.

螢火蟲的那雙手後來跟我並沒有結果。浪漫是多麼短暫的一剎那，無法預期未來會如何。
而我也從來沒告訴他，他給了我浪漫的悸動。

從前，騎機車的年紀，當時的男友會伸手幫我蓋上我的安全帽前罩。
他不知道這樣的一個小動作有多麼浪漫。

現在的男友喜歡餵我，看著他做飯，是非常幸福的事。
拔牙後，他做了幾天的嬰兒食品給我吃，他不知道這樣的細心有多麼浪漫。
他不知道牽著我的手散著步是多麼浪漫。

怎樣是浪漫？要遇到才知道。
我不要你誇口摘下星星，也不需要你會跳阿根廷探戈，更不想要你突襲我一個驚喜。

盯著 Andrei 的鈕釦，他的舞技進步了，越來越能夠掌握小小的竅門引領我做出看似花俏的動作。
我跳舞，因為開心。讓你看著我跳舞，如果你微笑，這就是一件浪漫的事。

洗牙

昨天是星期六，是個週末，我漏接了一通電話，本來以為是 marc 打來的，聽了留言後汗顏。
波蘭口音，我的牙醫竟然在週末的時候打給我，提醒我禮拜一早上九點十五分要去看牙。

自從去年悔不當初的莫名其妙的拔了兩次智齒，我就發誓再也不會在美國讓任何人碰我的牙。
但是第二次拔智齒的時候，拔牙醫生跟我說我的某顆臼齒的 filling 磨損了，該去填起來，我假裝沒聽到。尤其那時候麻醉剛退，我根本還沒完全醒過來。誰知道拔牙醫生也跟 marc 說了，要他提醒我。

我推說，我的牙醫在台灣。
marc 竟然去找了一個牙醫，還幫我掛了號。
心不甘情不願的去了，牙醫姓羅蜜歐，仔細的檢查了我的牙，照了 X 光。她說我拔智齒的傷口還腫腫的，不建議我現在就填補那個漏洞。跟我約了一個禮拜之後再去看她。日子到了，我編了一個理由，打了電話過去取消了我的門診。
那個時候是一月份。
後來 marc 唸了我好幾天。

一個月前，收到牙醫的一張明信片，提醒我該是時候洗牙了。
唉唷，服務這麼周到害我開始有罪惡感。
那張明信片一直沒丟掉，一直擺在我桌上，每天都看得到它，每天都跟自己說我晚一點該打通電話去掛個號。
一直到一個禮拜前，marc 突然天外飛來一筆說，你後來有沒有去看牙啊？我不想再帶你去拔牙了。
我白了他一眼，我說，你該去剪頭髮了。
他竟然說，你去約個時間看牙，我就去剪頭髮。

在台北的時候，每半年洗一次牙，一次半個小時。
那天，她花了整整兩個小時，仔仔細細的洗了我滿嘴。好像是髮型設計師一樣，拿著剪刀修來修去，東探探西摸摸，直到滿意為止。羅蜜歐醫生那個鏡子、鑽子、口水吸引器，配合著牙線、水蜜桃口味麻醉液、蔓越梅口味美白劑，最後再來個 X 光。

小小一個家庭牙醫診所，她一個人包下所有的工作，接電話、看診、推銷口腔保健產品、閒聊瑣事、收錢。
我只覺得我被好好的服務到了，感覺滿好的。

直到她說，你在九月以前還可以再來洗一次牙，你的學生保險讓你一年洗兩次，也就是說你還有一千塊錢還沒用到。
嗯，很感謝你的細心，但是張嘴張兩個小時是一件很折磨人的事情。我不想為了讓你多賺一千塊錢，三個月內洗兩次牙。

用了她推銷的漱口水，的確不錯，清新不刺激。
明天記得要心意堅定的跟她說，我年底才會為了洗牙去看她。

那天洗牙的時候，雖然她有給我帶一個護目鏡以防水氣噴到我的眼睛，但是大部分的時候，我還是閉上眼睛。
總覺得眼睛一張開，我就可以看見窗外的敦化南路，敦化南路上的綠樹。

brownie

I have quit drinking since the first day of 2006. Read my Chinese webpage for my New Year’s embarrassing incident in Bellagio.
However, I am still fond of beer and wine and taste a little, no more than half a glass. To waste my best friends’ gifts in judging beer and wine is the last thing I would do.
Zabeth says that you could always find beer in her fridge. The best beer in any given condition. She started looking for the best beer in Pennsylvania even before recovering from her jet lag. According to her German beer-tasting blood, Pilsner Urquell is the best beer ever. I have to believe her because Pilsner Urquell is Czech beer not German. See how unbiased she is. Her favorite German beer is Dortmunder Union Pils. To date, in her testing phase of Pennsylvanian beer, Hop Devil is the runner-up, while the existence of the winner remains promising. These are easy thing to remember. The difficult thing is when she try to explain me the differences among lager, ale, stout, etc.As to wine, Marc has various favorites, depending on what he’s eating. Chicken, fish, lamb, beef, rabbit, escargots, foie gras, or cheese; what kind of cheese, how the meat is cooked, what the function of the food is – an appetizer, entrée, or dessert. Serving the wine cold or warm sometimes also has to take the weather into account. Anyway, when it comes to wine, he is the boss.
Actually I am happy to be a follower, as long as the leader does not test my limit of patience. When I count on you, please make a decision no more than 3 minutes per possible choice. So far Zabeth and Marc are very good at deciding beer and wine for me. In addition, they are also good at taking over my glass if I cannot finish it.
All and all, the chance of me getting drunk is very low.
I don’t have popular bad habits, such as smoking, drinking, and gambling. I like doing yoga, go hiking, and taking hot bath. Basically I live a relatively healthy life. The last time I got seriously ill was 2 and half years ago.
I was sick at KirkStock last weekend. I hope he could updated the website with some pictures taken during that weekend. www.kirkstock.com
Kirk French is Marc’s friend in Anthropology Dept. He has lived in the middle of woods for 3 years and worked on the house and land for exchange of rent. He is leaving for St. Louis and thought it would be a great fun if people gathered together for a weekend.
It was a great fun. He and his friends invited 11 bands to perform on stage, which Marc helped to build up. His “yard” was so huge that tens of tents were uncrownedly scattered here and there.
The first night (June 2nd) was not very exciting because of rain. The bands didn’t start until 11pm. I played with Uno the cat who was only several months old. I watched Joe making sausages with the recipe from Spats. I sold a few KirkStock T-shirts with a red “staff” T-shirt on. I chatted with people coming in and out of the house. I waited for Marc returning from his shift in the parking lot (a large meadow field). I ate something. I talked to Cameron the 12-yr-old. I wrote something in my notebook. I didn’t give any portable toilet a chance. Eventually, Marc and I were tired out and went home. We didn’t camp there.
The other day (June 3rd) I found out that not many “staff” people camped there. It’s just much better to sleep in a dry warm bed.
The weather was much nicer. Marc and I went on hiking. Starting off from the performance stage, walking through dead branches and falling leaves, we found a hiking trail. We gorgeously hiked for one and half hour. The view was amazingly pretty at the top of the “mountain” (from a Pennsylvanian point of view). It was a plateau up there. Grass was freshly green. Tree trunks were deadly white but still straight from tip in the sky to root in the ground. Air was openly refreshing. Some rocks decorated randomly. The picture was great, and I condemned my forgetting carrying my camera.
We walked (and I slid) down a wide path for animals. Well, that’s what Marc speculated. It was like in Brokeback Mountain the movie, the path in mountains where sheep was going.
It was a very interesting and new experience for me anyway.
Joe was brilliant that he found an abandoned rusty van and turned it into an oven. An oven where the sausages were smoked. Smoked by burning apple tree branches inside the van.
The sausages turned out to be the most delicious food I had in the weekend. Very juicy, tasty, and chewy.
With my red staff T-shirt, I helped selling some sausages, T-shirts, and burritos.
In the kitchen, I saw a guy making brownies.
He said something that I didn’t register. I just smiled and walked away.
Later, Marc came to me with a brownie. I had a bite. Marc suggested me not to have more because there was “something” in it. I felt nothing and tasted nothing and cared nothing.
Before heading to the Wilcox Hotel’s performance (Jason and Ryan’s band), the brownie guy offered me another piece. Kirk saw me and asked me if I knew what that was. I said it’s a brownie. He may have thought I knew exactly what I would experience later. Actually I was way too innocent in this case.
After the Wilcox Hotel show, I was looking for a nice spot for my natural call. It was too dark in the woods. I didn’t feel like to pee under the condition that I could not see the environment where dogs and wild animals were running around. Finally, I used a portable toilet. What could I do!!?? I hated and still hate a portable toilet. It was one of the disgusting things in the world. My worst experience was in the Central Park of New York. That was a hot day. The toilet was FULL of unbreathable stuff. The seat was muddy. The… I don’t want to recall that event. Anyway I had to give in last Saturday night; otherwise my bladder would explode. It was okay. Some deodorant worked well. The “container” was not stuffed. There was even toilet paper. My goose bumps went off anyway but my mood did not change too much after using the toilet.
You know what, I could not help thinking about the portable toilet joke or tragedy when I was in the booth. The story went with a guy in one portable toilet in a parking lot. A car backing up bumped into the booth and pushed it down. The guy in the booth of course was horrified and smeared and pissed (the punch line).
Chatting on and off, I became bored and cold. It was me or the temperature? I was shivering. I went to sit down near the bonfire. Not for long, I went into the house and sat down on the couch and picked out my book to read. I could not focus on any single word. Literally unable to focus. My eyes were out of control. They just did not fixate at any location. I thought I may have got a cold or something because my head started aching.
Then Marc came along and asked me if I was alright. He told me the brownie now was digested and effects were showing up. I didn’t believe him at first. Later, I tried to stand up but my knees could not straight up or support my trunk. I knew something was up.
My whole body was obviously shaking now. Thomas came to sit beside me and tried to comfort me. He also had taken one piece but because of his body fat and his history of substance usage, he was fine and relaxed. Relaxed. He told me to be relaxed, which was supposed to be the effect of the brownie. I was not relaxed at all. I just wanted to stop trembling. Even my teeth were hitting each other. I figured the least uncomfortable state was to keep my eyes closed. Seeing a shaking world (due to my shaking eyeballs) was not very nerve-soothing.
Marc and I went to the balcony to be isolated from the crowd. Sick people were not allowed to be in a party because we depressed the atmosphere. I was being mentally mean and physically weak. Marc left me for help. People said drinking lots of water would help. Thus I was given bottles of water. People said throwing up would help. Thus there was a barrel for me to vomit.
I leaned on the damp couch, eyes closed, hearing people’s asking if I was alright. Matt, the neighbor of Kirk, came to pat my head and give me a bottle of water. Marc hugged me with his also shaking body. He didn’t feel well either. He said either the dosage was too high or the quality was bad. Either way, I should have not had it because I never had had it before.
I vomited. I drank water. I don’t remember how long we stayed there on the balcony damp couch. Kirk led me upstairs to lie down. He had one piece too but was okay.
Sara and Eric gave us a ride back home.
By the way, on the KirkStock Logo, by the guitar string, there was the signature of the designer, R. Gill. That was Sara’s sister. She drove 5 hours from Ohio to attend to this KirkStock thing. Very devoted. Actually many people came from distant places. A guy came from Texas because he has known Kirk for many years. Some fans of bands drove long way here. Many performers were not living in State College or any where in Pennsylvania.
I vomited for the second time on the way home. Sara pulled over and switched down the window for me. I felt bad that my vomited thing touched her car, but felt much better in stomach.
If that was the feeling of being drunk, I will not get drunk ever.
If that was the feeling of being high, I will get high with coffee only.
I slept almost all day on Sunday. That’s it. My brownie story.
I have preferred to follow Zabeth and Marc’s lead to sip some good beer and wine, now even so.
I liked the Brown Bird guy from New York. You can click on his link on the KirkStock.com
He was the most entertaining singer in the weekend. Wide mouth. Impressive outfit. Blue or jazz-ish style of singing. Great voice. He made me smile all the time when he’s on stage. That’s a natural high.