james

I walked into the cafeteria and saw someone walking out. In quarter of a second, I glanced his face and my memory ran like crazy.
"Hey! Did you graduate from Penn State?" I did something I rarely rarely do, which is shouting out to a stranger. Well, he may have been a stranger if my memory of him was wrong.
'Yeah...' He stopped and looked at me with a puzzling expression.
"Sorry about this. I graduated from Penn State too. And you just look so familiar to me. I am Toby's student." I said so because anyone who ever took Toby's class would never ever forget Toby, who is one of the best teachers I have ever met, and also my academia father.
Soon I added my name to the introduction without any hope that this person would recognize me at all. He provided his hand, and I shaked his hand, and he told me his name.
'I'm James,' Oh I thought it was George, so close, and he continued 'I was so-an-so's student.'
"Right, you were in Kinesiology." I of course remember he was in Kinesiology.
Motor control is a shared interest between cognitive psychology and kinesiology. James and I took a cognitive psychology class together back in 2003, I believe, which was not Toby's but David's. Anyway, James was cute, and he is still cute or cuter.
We briefly exchanged our recent professional lives while I was thinking "What a good-looking guy!"

James. I must have a thing for this name. Purely coincidents? Or it is simply such a common name.
In Taiwan, people get an English name which usually has nothing to do with the original Chinese name. It is just something we Taiwanese do. Back there when I was twelve, my first love affair was with a classmate named James. He had beautiful fingers and kissable lips (although I did not kiss him because it was not ethical to kiss a boy who had an official girlfriend). My boyfriend in college years also had this same English name. Now my star you-know-who goes by this name in the English-speaking world.
I like James in my lab. He is a great kid with a kind of humor that I love: low-key, semi-sarcastic, soft voice with a sharp point.
I like James in my postdoc group. He is one of the smartest people I've ever known in my generation. Funny and smart. Thinks so quickly and critically like Toby.

Oh! I know why I thought his name was George. He looks like the George in the movie "My Best Friend's Wedding". Isn't he cute?
Mama and I used to watch this movie again and again whenever HBO played it. Funny thing is that I remember the character's name George but cannot recall what Julia Roberts' or Cameron Diaz' charactor's name.
Why? Because this guy was cute, and this actor's name was never in my system, or he played a gay man? I love gay people and cute guys :)
Alright, this random encounter should be it. It being that my little crush was over.
However, it was so nice that I could be suddenly pulled back to years ago in the middle of my busy day exchanging 20 emails with Toby.

Oh! Why I remembered James? Perhaps exchanging email with Toby primed me!
Alright, I gotta stop applying psychology terms to my foolish self-analysis. Good night, people, Friday is coming.

challenge!

My sudoku career started in Spring 2008 with a five-dollar investment on "Pocket Sudoku Volume 1" bought in New York Penn Station or Newark Airport.
It contains 75 "Light and Easy", 25 "Moderate", 25 "Demanding", 23 "Beware! Very Challenging!" and 2 "Bonus Giant Sudoku".

I am now at the 75th "Light and Easy". You must be thinking "Pei is a slow, not-so-smart and over-educated person." Oh well... I only practice it every weekend when riding trains to Manhattan or anytime I was waiting for a flight or stuck in an airport.
Sometimes it was so easy, and I could quickly solve a puzzle in 5 minutes (hey! I tried! ).
Sometimes it was very difficult, and my brain denied to work. The one I posted here, the 46th "Light and Easy", took me three train rides without solving it, and I held it and moved on to the next puzzle. You know, like taking a paper exam in school: temporarily skip the difficult questions and solve the rest and come back to it when you have time.

I gave it to Superstar, who claims being smarter than me (in jargon: he may have faster processing speed, or better handle on his working memory. Alternatively, the 2-year military service may have given him time to be good at it.).
But he did not fill out any cell after my first (and second and third) attempts.
Months and months later, after I practiced more, I thought I was good enough to solve it. I came back to it and oh... thinking is a job! Another 30-minute train ride did not make any progress.
I gave it to Superstar again. This time it took him one train ride and one car ride, totally about one hour, to get it done!
Solved!!! Alright, he is smarter.

Mr. Will Shortz, this is not light and easy. For the next edition, it should be moved to the next level.

Anyway, try it. Perhaps it is light and easy for you.

what's up

"How are you doing?"
"Good. Nothing to complain about." My answer surprised myself.

Really. Nothing to complain about. I am not stressed out for writing a grant, a paper, a cover letter for job application, a PhD dissertation, a comp question, a note for exam preparation, a homework essay, or a line of affection for someone I secretly dreamed.
I am relatively healthy too. Two bottles of Chinese-medicine cream suppress the dry and itchy symptoms of my hands. My knee is doing better after correcting myself from over-extending. I sleep well and long enough everyday. I eat well and probably too much for my slowing metabolism.
Social life and love life are good. I really have nothing major to complain about.
It feels weird that I am not anxious.

It does.
I have nothing to update my friends. I return to my listener role as previously when I never talked about myself. Back then, I simply refused to open up, but now I really have nothing much to say. What a boring me.
Of course there are some isolated episodes that could be something I could chat about. Things like yesterday I spent almost one hour persuading a person to do his job. The trade was if I wrote a thank-him letter to his boss, he would send things I requested immediately.
"Hey, dude. This is supposedly your job. You want me to compliment you to your boss for doing your job? Seriously?" No, I did not say so. I nodded to the phone and agreed. Because of his strong accent, it took me extra minutes to spell his and his boss's names correctly. I composed a nice letter and faxed it to him.

Things like a research assistant who I sometimes had happy hour with is leaving to attending a med school in Nebraska.
Things like Jenny came to me and joked about how I never replied to her email that actually was not asking for my help.
Things like a big boss was ok enough with me by saying his underwear was green on St. Patrick's Day although he did not wear anything green noticeable.
Things like tedious administrative things needing my attention, which is currently quite ok to give.
Things like doing dishes and laundries.

Nothing serious is up.
This feels weird.
I have not felt this way for a long long time. I am not anxious or excited. Things are going pretty smoothly.

In the same time, people around me are having or about to have life-changing things.
Superstar is deciding what to do with his professional life.
A medical doctor, volunteering in my lab for about 6 months now, from India got matched as a resident doctor in the US.
Two co-workers announced they are pregnant and due in the same month. One friend admitted to me that she and her husband are trying to get pregnant.
A cousin is getting married in 10 days.
A friend is recovering from a surgery removing his gall bladder.
Another friend is going on gluten-free diet for sure forever.

I am sitting here and feel ... peaceful and ... nice. I am in the state of baseline.
Today is a nice day.
I wish I have a nice day tomorrow too. I wish you too.
Or something better than nice is up, so that I will say "Great!" instead "Good."

What's up?

i really love my ..

This pair cost me six dollars for priceless joy. The main component is a piece of wood painted in grassy green but always complimented as jade green. I must look very nice with the pair. People love to stop and make a nice remark to my earrings.

I thought I lost one of them. I did not throw away the remaining earring. My first idea was to collect all of my lone earrings together and make a necklace. Last weekend I stopped by the store where I purchased the earrings with green wood. I hoped to see the same pair and was willing to pay twelve dollars (it was 50% or so discount for the last time). I did not find them, sadly.

This morning I was looking for a necklace and saw a lone green-wood earring sitting at the bottom of the jewelry box! I reunited the pair on my palm immediately and totally tossed the idea of wearing the necklace. "I am going to sport the new-found previously-missing earrings," and I found myself looking very happy in the mirror.

I throw things away. Every now and then, I actively throw things away on purpose. Or you may say that I am a conscious collector. I do not keep things that I know I do not need it for any practical or abstract reason any more. I do not buy something before knowing exactly what I am going to do with it. This is why I could spend hours trying out tens of outfits but only get one or none at the end. I could go online, surfing for an hour, placing items in my e-checkout cart, but never clicking the "summit" button to complete the purchasing procedure. I call this my e-window shopping.
When throwing things away, I do not hesitate much. Some insignificant gift given by someone insignificant will be in the trash can if I never find any possible way to give it away. T-shirts that haven't been on my body for years and never comfortable to sweat in will be thrown away next time I see them occupying space in my drawer. Diaries containing bad memories were thrown away.

With all those said, my point is that things usually do not get lost. If I cannot find something, it was because I never had them in the first place or because I deliberately trashed them.
Thus, I was pretty upset when I could not find the earring. And you can imagine how delighted I was as seeing it.

Some gossip magazine likes to put together several pictures of the same celebrity and to show this person really likes to carry one particular purse, cap, scarf, or sunglasses to anywhere.
I really like these particular earrings. Sometimes I was consciously telling myself not to put them on but give other pairs a try. "Other pairs are more expensive. They are pretty too. Your co-workers may get bored seeing you with the same earrings everyday."
The shoes I wear most are a pair I got in the first year of my American life. They were from Payless and cost about twelve dollars.

Here is some kind of self-analysis.
The mostly frequently wore pairs are usually on the cheap side of the monetary scale. The reason why I keep buying new items is for maintaining the high status of my favorite item on the top list, for not wearing out my favorites too quickly, or for trying to find new favorites. However, favorite is hard to find or to replace. Before I find it or replace the old one, hundreds or thousands of dollars were already gone over the years. That is, I actually spent hundreds or thousands on my favorite earrings or shoes. That is, my six-dollar favorite earrings and twelve-dollar shoes are priceless comparing to their sold value, but actually highly priced because I seldom wear other earrings or shoes that emptied my savings.

Wow, I am really glad that I found my favorite earrings back. I almost lost a fortune.

pause

Noelia Hurtado & Pablo Rodriguez - Milonga BTF 2008
by brusselstangofestival

Milonga is a major milestone for tango learners.
I don't remember since when I finally felt comfortable dancing milonga in a milonga. (The former "milonga" means a style of tango dance like shown in the videos here. The latter "milonga" means a tango ball.)
Milonga is very fast-paced. I usually cannot hold myself up for a tanda of milonga after 2 hours of dancing in those tango high heels. It is a whole-body workout. Not just my physical strength is not enough to dance milonga for 15 minutes, but also my bodily sensibility is not reduced because of fatigue, causing me not feeling the leader well, and hence I perform not as well as I was able to.
But see this video, the leader paused from time to time with grace and musicality. That must have felt so so so good. The follower must not have felt tired or unable to catch up her breath.
I love it when the leader pauses. Tension builds up. Breath may be deepened. Dance is not stopped but implicitly going. It is very very sexy. I seldom met a leader knowing how to pause nicely. I almost never met a leader who paused in milonga, and most of the pauses in milonga was caused by sudden disconnection between me and the leader (for he was not confident in dancing milonga, or for I could not catch his pace).

Pause can be trained.
Long long time ago I was learning how to do British comedy on stage. The group leader who ran that session told us to pause while reading the script. She gave no instruction where to pause or how long to pause. She just named people up to the stage, and we tried.
I got the best try. I paused and everyone laughed. Somehow it worked although I did not and still do not know why.
Since then, I guess, I found myself easily making people laugh and say "You're funny!". Somehow I have some genes for being a comedian. For example, today, I was joking if I had kids, I would send them back to Taiwan for Mama to raise them. Everyone at the lunch table laughed, and Jenny immediately said "Oh, you'll be a good parent because you are funny." I looked at her and shrugged (because I didn't know how to reply), and this reaction made everyone laughed harder. "Alright," I decided to say after two seconds of pause, "I am funny, and I shall be a good parent according to you. Thanks for your compliment."
Oh, why was I joking during a business lunch with my boss and co-workers? Because I didn't want to discuss anything serious to ruin my appetite. Because Cristin and Matt were saying horribly ill-behaved children running around in a burger diner called "Five Brothers". Because Millie said to me "You don't blame the food for kids' behavior. You blame who bring the kids over there and allow them to be like that." So I said "Kids should be sent back to Taiwan." And Jenny and my boss started offering me babysitting my future kids after I shared my joke. My point is, yes, there should be a point, people like me because they think I am funny. And I got volunteers for my unborn children. How nice. I must be very likable.

A pause brings the punch line in a joke and presents an exciting anticipating moment in tango.
In milonga, a pause is the punch line as well as an exciting moment. Tango is so playful and fun! Please, leaders, play with pauses. Followers would love to dance with you again and again.
Here, I share one more excellent milonga with pauses and playful moves:

siblings

A hey from Saint Petersburg.
Another hey from Taipei.
Both come to me in New Jersey.
Skype connects my family together for several minutes, and Yu my brother disconnects me by walking away from his station.
This is our first online meeting but not our first meeting with Yu walking away on me.
Well, he comes back in 30 minutes although I wish he was going to bed. It is 5am over there.
This is what family is for. We disagree with each other, throw horrible words or even objects at each other, but eventually come back together. We are a functional family.
Coincidentally, we are all experiencing abnormally cold winter in three places on the globe. We can all say "take care and keep yourself warm" to each other.



Being physically alone is not difficult at all. From time to time, I enjoy it. This attitude toward personal space runs in my family. We all respect each other's time and space. When we were living together, we were like roommates with no verbal politeness. When we were apart, we were like friends with very intimate conversations. I have been in the States for 6 almost 7 years. Yu was away from time to time for the mandate military service and currently for a static journey of studying/looking for his true self in Russia. Mama and I worry about Yu. I worry about Mama. Mama worry about me and Yu. I am wondering whom Yu worry about. I want to think of him being less selfish than I always believe he is. I can't help it. We are all selfish.
Mama likes to say how come her two kids turn out so differently while she raises us in the same way. No, not in the same way at all. He is the youngest. I am the big sister. He and I suffer from the youngest-kid and the oldest-kid symdromes respectively.
Therefore, I change when someone takes care of me.
And I believe he will change when no one takes care of him.

However, I also believe that he will not survive if no one takes care of him. He is too used to being taken care of. One cannot throw a domestic cat into the wild wide world in winter and anticipate its immediate matureness. It would catch a bad cold for a start. If it survived the disease, it might learn a lession. If it died, nothing left. However, Yu has been thrown to the wild with care, too much care. He should have not received physical but only moral support. But as a mother, Mama would never provide just moral support. She and I often disagree on how to encourage Yu. She has the final say anyway, so my points can never be proved.

I did not come to the States with a happy smiley face. Tears washed and rewashed my face during the trip to the airport. Over the years, I found myself suddenly bursting into tears behind the wheel by myself. You have no idea about cultural barrier, language frustration, loneliness, love, heart-breaking, or your own stupidity in studying the subject you have passion about by reading books or listening to a person who has experienced any of it. You learn by walking through it painfully. You learn without any possible way that might prepare you for it. I learned. I am still learning.
Being the big sister, I have been in this situation all the time. The situation of being naively watched by Yu.
He sees where I am now but overlooks how I get here.

What is he thinking? Is he convinced that being my younger brother makes the way he is now? I do not deny my influence on him, but I am not apologizing for who I am or what I am. I hope he does not give me too much credit. He has chances to select what he wants and who he wants to be. His chances are given without quota after each failure. Being the youngest, he has been in this situation many times. The situation of being subjectively watched by me. I see where he is now. Do I overlook how he get here? I must have. The bottom line is I am not him and I will not learn what he has learned.
So what? I wish I could be any help. This wish never actually comes true because he never wants to accept my help. I know I am blaming him again. I can't help it.
He is too proud to admit his laziness. He asks for help all the time but seldom accepts it.
I am too proud to show my weakness. I rarely ask for help and often suck it all up.
We both are competitive and like to win. It turns out that we never win each other over.

"Don't think about it." This is the answer I give to Mama who constantly worries about Yu's future.
"Stop thinking about it." This is the answer I give to Yu who constantly feels unhappy.
I shall not think about it. It being unsolveable issues between Yu and me. The cold temperature keeps us in our own places away from home and keeps us stuck with upsetting thoughts.

Here comes a random thought brought by my favorite Colbert Report. As a big fan of SATC, I thank Colbert for linking Gandhi and SATC, making me laugh with the famous theme song tonight. (And please go to bed, my brother. Good night or good morning. It is 11:30pm over here, and I am going to bed.)

The Colbert ReportMon - Thurs 11:30pm / 10:30c

Tip/Wag - Gandhi's Expensive Shoes

Colbert Report Full Episodes
Political Humor

Rap Battle
Joke of the Day

I learn to find joy anywhere anytime. Otherwise, I would have had myself killed by all the I-can't-help-it thoughts. Life is hard. Oh well... stop whining. Laugh when I can. Random thoughts are healthy.

"Life is short. Do whatever makes you happy, my dear." These are Mama's words to her kids. I am getting there, Mama. Don't worry.