happy new year

It's over.
It's almost over.
My 5-yr-old laptop almost died. The screen died after I backed up the latest version of the dissertation. Feels like a dear friend turning his back on me and saying "Goodbye my lover. Goodbye my friend," like James Blunts' voice, touchingly broken, keeping singing "You have been the one. You have been the one for me."
Oh, my dear laptop.
I held my breath and tears and heart beat. Feel so hollow as if I am playing a role in the music video.

Working day and night, trying to finish the draft before going to Newark for a job interview, personal relationships have sucked, but I had no energy to deal with it. I just kept going and pushing my limit to do the work and not to appear weak.
A huge snow storm hit the town and the whole north east side of America on the pink lover's day and the day before. Everything had to be canceled. Sorry that people who have lovers were not allowed to celebrate out side of their beds. So I would not feel even sadder.
Thanks to my dear friend, Alex, who helped me dig my car out of the snow at the night of Valentine's Day. It was a hard labor work. The snow was deep and hard. The temperature was merciless. I figured that sweat would be better than tears. Let's do it. Alex once again made homesick-inducing meal to warm me up.

After parking the car safely in a garage downtown, I walked back to the dark empty room. Breathe in. Breathe out. I will survive. I said.
It was before dawn. I started off at 6am to Newark. Things were fine and sunny until 7:30am.
The road was not plowed completely. The trucks were arrogantly flying. The wind was crazily blowing snow down from anything to my wind shield.
Many times, my small car with small tires moved in all directions but mine. I was scared to death.
9:30am, Millie (Dr. Anna's secretary) called, "Where are you, hon?"
10:30am, Millie called again.
11:00am, Millie called yet again.
I had not moved forward more than 30 miles for the past 3 hours. Sometimes, no moving was safer than moving.
I thought I was going to be hit by trucks or stuck in snow hills, and no one would come to rescue me, and I would get no jobs.
Feeling miserable, somehow my hands were still on the wheel. Passing a hilltop, suddenly I could finally drive at a normal highway speed.
I arrived at 1pm.

My morning schedule had been postponed to the next morning. The rest remained going and I met people and gave a talk. My talk was presented on an IBM laptop that decided not to cooperated with my powerpoint. Please, the spirit of my laptop please go away from me. I smiled at my audience and thought in silence.
It was tiresome but pleasant.
By the time of dinner, I could hardly open my eyes after every blink.

KMRREC is a research center, affiliated with UMDNJ and KMRR hospital. But at the same time, KMRREC is independent. It is a private company with employees including medical doctors, ph.Ds., research scientists, and postdocs. People dress well and talk formal. Perhaps I will be an OL but doing research. What an ideal!
But they also gave the most challenging interviews. Questions after questions, from my short-term vision to my long-term goal, from my background to my future projects, from my first line on the CV to the last line of my conversation. (Oh yeah... each of them had a copy of my CV in hand)
I was relieved that they could laugh at my unintentional jokes here and there.

Friday morning I met four more researchers. At 1pm, I decided to leave without entering Manhattan for a class of yoga, because the traffic tragedies people kept telling me.
On I-80, everything was fine and sunny until 2:30pm. I arrived the intersection of I-80 and I-380, and the radio said that the section from I-81 to I-380 on I-80 were to be closed until tomorrow morning.
Damn it.
Following the traffic to I-380 and then PA-940, the whole line stopped somewhere in the woods for 2 hours. During which, lucky me, mama called. I had chats with her and Brother for more than an hour while I sat in the same spot.

Checking the map, a decision was made. I would go 940 and turn to 93 and reach I-80 again. I told some folks about my plan in a gas station. They gave me a good-luck smile and decided to return to where they had come from. No, there was no way that I was going back to NJ at that point.
I wanted to keep moving, even though super slowly. That was 6pm.

According to my plan, the detour was about 30 miles. If I was lucky to go at 20 mph, I should have meet I-80 by 8pm.
At 8pm, I was in the middle of no where, stuck in the car, stuck in an endless line.
At 9:30pm, I reached I-80 where was beyond the intersection of I-81. I thought I could get on I-80. But the entrance was blocked. Damn radio lied to me.

Checking the map again, I was angry and awake and highly alert and muscle-pain in my body.
OK, I would keep going on 93 and connect to 11 and I should meet I-80 again. If I couldn't get on I-80, I would keep on 11 and turn to 322 back to State College by sunrise!
I was determined, so determined to reach my goal.
The traffic actually was not bad from that point.
I saw the sign of I-80 junction, and prayed to whatever god who rules the highway. Yes! It was open!
Again the car ran at 80mph. I lied myself down on bed at 11:30pm.

It was Chinese New Year's Eve. I turned on my laptop trying to skype my family, which reminded me of its screen leave.
James Blunt sang in my head when I stared at the black monitor.
I was too tired to yell my emotion out.

The blue beetle is covered by dirty snow stains and icy water, as if it has gone through a war field. I am proud of it. It was the smallest car in the whole post-storm stupidity -- the government cut down the budget of road cleaning and made a clean-up demand too late to recover people's normal life.

Is being tough smart?

marc massaged away my toughness, and sleep overcame me.