十二月!

一切都要從 iPhone 說起...
幾個禮拜前, 我寫了一封短信給我弟, 他收到後跟麻嗎說我在美國過得很糟, 麻嗎一夜難眠, 台北時間凌晨五點她打來問我 "你還好嗎?" 我嚇了一跳, 回問 "你還好嗎?" 她以為我還在隱瞞, 又再問一次, 所以我跟她說我房間的暖氣超不暖, 我超可憐. 於是她堅持她要寄一條韓國電毯來.
郵局快遞跟她保證電毯會在我的農曆生日那天寄到, 於是她超開心的寫了一兩封信來跟我說明怎麼用電毯... 於是她每天都在詢問我收到電毯了沒.

農曆生日那天麻嗎打來說生日快樂, 當時我人正在年終晚會跟同事長官打哈哈, 每張圓桌上都放了一盆聖誕紅, 主持人說每一桌生日最接近的人可以拿走那一盆, 我立刻開心的接受, 然後驕傲的跟其他人說 "Today is my birthday, my mom just told me." 美國人一臉不解, 怎麼自己生日什後都不知道, 還要媽媽提醒. 他們很難理解很多事情的, 例如解釋 "民國幾年" 就很頭大.

一個禮拜之後, 我們實驗室自己的 secret santa 年終慶, 按往例大家會順便慶祝我的生日, 我收到一些聖誕禮物一些生日禮物, 開心之餘, 我老闆在 party 過後説大家今天就工作到這裡, 可以回家了. 我飆回家, 拿著昨天收到的包裹通知單, 衝到郵局去拿我的電毯.

喔, 對了, 為什麼我說 "一切都要從 iPhone 說起", 原來我每次用 iPhone 寫中文信寄給我弟, 他都收到文字與亂碼交雜的訊息, 至於他怎麼解讀成我過得不好, 我就不得而知了. 但是陰錯陽差的我收到電毯啦! 於是立刻用 iPhone 拍下影像寄給麻嗎, 麻嗎居然又是凌晨五點就掛網, 她說除了電毯還有其他驚喜, 我趕快打開電毯包裝, 嘿嘿, 發現三包海苔! 真是超愛麻嗎的!


然後我就沒完沒了的開始計畫自己的生日節目. 企圖用台灣時間開 party過生日, 因為美國時間已經被訂走了要吃茹絲葵. 結果... 超強暴風雪來襲, 我寫了一小段放在 Facebook 上：
1. Found myself stuck in the building because the snow right outside the door was too heavy and too deep... making the door impossible to be pushed open.

2. Yelled help to the passersby once I got a little air gap pushed out.

3. A man with a shovel rescued me. But I did not find him very satisfied with my gratitude. Well... I hesitated and decided not to give him money. I did not want to insult him. What he did was priceless.

4. Fed myself with breakfast after climbing to the grocery store and climbing back to my building.

5. Worked 4 hours straight.

6. I am starving again....

7. Got an FB message from Yvt reminding me that in Taiwan I'm officially 31!!!

8. Let's eat and drink and dance and be happy!!!



幫幫都幾乎滅頂
　

原本 30 分鐘的地鐵變成一個半小時, 大紐約地區整個癱瘓, 原本訂的餐廳也沒開門, 還好 Upper Westside 有滿多可以選擇的好餐廳, 我們一行六人進了一家義大利餐廳, 開開心心了三四個小時.



唱了歌吹了蠟燭



28號當天呢, 我先享受了天堂般的九十分鐘馬殺雞. Hoboken 的 Body Balance 是個很舒適的按摩工作室, Jovana 是我遇到最讚的按摩師~ 全身舒暢啊... 完全不理會我老闆狂寫來的信, 她想假裝不知道我今天休假嗎? 我這一個禮拜都休假啊, 有什麼要緊事, 請告知我秘書. 什麼? 我沒有祕書嗎? 那不好意思啊, 愛莫能助.

為了出門吃個晚餐, 踏過滿目瘡痍的市街, 雪水處處是, 可是歡笑滿滿, 大家似乎都對踏雪又愛又恨的. 整個 midtown 充滿觀光客, 聽不到紐約口音的英文, 聽不到英文.
終於吃到 Ruth's Chris 的牛排啦, 紅肉的天堂.



再吹一次蠟燭 :)
開心呢



所以十二月有快樂啊! 謝謝大家!

風雪夜

大風雪吹得所有的門都在響, 僅僅在我這層樓才兩個單位, 就有四個門, 據說是防火專門設計的, 但是我單純覺得我房東的強項就是擾民. 這四個門都在哐啷響, 不過它們都不直接迎著風雪就這麼囂張, 可見直接檔著暴風的那些門一定很努力站在崗位上. 我的窗戶也在響, 雪打在紗窗上的聲音還滿討人厭的, 嘻嘻酥酥. 雪打在冷氣機上沒什麼聲音, 但是冷風似乎可以灌進冷氣口滲進房裡來.
我盯著天窗, 風太大了, 圓圓的天窗積不了雪, 據說外面已經積了兩尺深了.
開玩笑, 我可是在賓州見過大場面的, 兩尺算什麼. 說老實話, 我一點都不想念賓州.

開心的時光總是過得特別快, 今年過得特別快, 讓我小小的感傷, 因為我有預感明年的現在一切就要不一樣了, 一起吃飯玩笑的人將要換場, 每隔一兩年就是一個週期, 有人要離場或是幾齣友情的戲就要落幕, 不得不向留學生的宿命低頭. 即使已經不是學生了, 周圍的朋友是留學生就逃不了聽著流行歌忍不住落淚的週期.

瀟灑都是不得以練出來的功夫. 活在當下的同時還是想要罵髒話, 開心得笑到臉都僵了, 一個轉身卻又擔心功夫練得油條了, 讓人真的覺得我不在乎了. 這八年多真的很傷神, 曾經某一段時期頗要好的朋友如今已經不知去向, 或是我跟他們單純的往不同的方向成長, 吃了素,信了主,結了婚,搬離美國東北,或是我默默的決定“就這樣了,祝你幸福". 然後我又截然一身.

於是我就窩在麻嗎從台北寄來的韓國超暖和電毯裡敲著鍵盤聽著風雪聲, 想想只有家人是最可靠的. 雖然我可靠的家人只有一個... 總比沒有好, 一個德國朋友好幾年沒有回鄉, 因為沒有一個家人是她喜歡的. 家人也是一種緣份阿.

風雪夜的年底, 我期盼明年的同一個時間我會說 2011 過得真快阿.

being present

What would you do when a payphone rings?
I picked it up. The voice sounded like a glass-wearing white male in his late 20s.

Every time when I talked to a stranger on the phone, my visual system was activated with a vivid imagery of the speaker's gender, race, age, and even outfit. I don't know why but it works for me.

The glass-wearing white male in his late 20s said "We are almost there. Looking for a parking."
"Ok. But who are you?" I said.
"What are you talking about? Don't leave. We'll be there soon." He said.
"Fine," I said, "But you don't even know me."
"Just don't leave."

I guess in his hearing-mediated representation of me I were either his friend, his high school sweetheart, or his blind date. Anyway, I hung up the phone and laughed hard. After three rounds of beer, I laughed easily. Superstar, Aya, and I were all in an easily pleased mood. The atmosphere in the McSorley's Old Ale House lifted our spirit into an even higher level after tasting the best ramen in New York (or the US if I were in a New-Yorker state of mind).

Quality of food and drink definitely contributes a large part of a good dining experience. However, without an authentic, culture-specific feeling from the dining environment, one restaurant, beer house, cafe, or a vendor stand must not deserve the gold medal for being the best of its kind. Minca is no doubt the winner of the gold medal in the ramen domain: the Chinese-style Japanese cuisine with specially made (e.g., hand-made) noodles and thick broth of pork, fish or chicken. (I'm sorry, vegetarians)
It's hard to carry a conversation while fully appreciating ramen. The relationship between the diner and the ramen is way more important than anything else. The heavenly time was only enhanced by watching Aya having conversation with the waitresses. It was like listening to the tango jazz that DJ Gary Walker played from time to time or like dancing a tango vals: moving, turning, & smiling from understanding without explicitly exaggerating phrases such as "Thank you very much for your help!" or "Awesome!". Was I using wrong metaphors for the witness of the Japaneses conversation? Or I was simply happy.

Talking about visualization of a speaker, I had always thought DJ Gary Walker was a black man with witty jokes, frank opinions, and super contagious warm laughter. His voice and the music he played have brightening each and every morning of the past three years. To make sure that I spelled his name correctly, I went onto the Jazz88 website and found him a white man. Oh my... Suddenly I felt I didn't know him anymore... (as if I had known the imagery of him being a black man for three years).

The good night had to be continued after the ramen. The long line waiting outside Minca prevented us from having some beer or enjoying some low-paced chilled time. So we walked away with a goal of popping into a brewery. On the way from the Lower East Side to the East Village, there were many pubs, bars and lounges for selection. Neon signs screaming "OPEN", "Budweiser", "PUB", "Guinness", or "Happy hour all day everyday" failed to attract more than our transient attention. We were determined to... or I was determined to trust Superstar's sense of direction and memory to lead us to the famous old brewery. We found it.



When walking through the crowded bar area, I saw at least 10 half-pint beer mugs on each table we passed. "Wow, people are binge drinking here." I thought.
A big guy with a type of body for a dance club bouncer (looking like Gerard Butler but 10 years older) violently seated us. First, he separated two tables and kicked a chair against the wall. "Sit down here." He said.
We did according; however, I tried to move the chair that had been kicked moments ago to get closer to the table. He stopped me immediately and insisted that the chair had to be at the wall. "Just sit down." He demanded.
"How should we order?" I followed his instruction and asked for more.
"I'll be right there with you." He left us speechless, and then did come back with a question "So?"
"What do you have?" I knew I sounded innocent, but I saw no blackboard written with today's special. Being honest of being a newbie is my rule of life.
"Beer." He replied and left again. We looked at each other in awe. But pretty soon he came back with six half-pint beer mugs: 3 with amber-colored ale and 3 with dark stout.

The stout was impressively good and smooth and delighting!
Each of us tried the two flavors, and within a very short of time the mugs were empty.
"Another round?" The waiter came back.
"Sure!" We all responded, "Only stout this time, please." He brought back 6 mugs of stout. Now I knew why there were so many mugs on each table.

No TV. No sports. No games. No flashing lights. No young hot bartenders. No waiters with fake smiles. Just sounds of people, celebrating the end of a week, birthdays, or simply this existing moment decorated by good beer. Framed photos covered the wall. Wood shreds (or powder-ish rather) scattered on the floor. Laughter filled the air.
While we were having the third round, the payphone on the wall rang. Superstar answered it. He showed his trademark smile, but I could not hear a word. People were loud laughing, chatting, and being themselves around our table. Aya was telling her opinion on some subject that attracted attention from a nearby stranger. We were all laughing. The payphone rang the second time, and I volunteered to answer it. I seriously did not care whether that glass-wearing white male in his late 20s met up his friends. He might not be a glass-wearing white male in his late 20s anyway...
The waiter later told us that the payphone was actually the house phone, but no one seemed to care whether it rang or not. Things did not matter that night.

Sometimes you find lots of things do not matter. Being happily feeling the soundings at the present moment matters.

mark on the nose

For several days, I saw a stain on my nose, midway between my nose tip and the center of the eyebrows. I saw it first time one day home when using the bathroom after work. I wiped it off and wondered if my face was bleeding somewhere for the entire day because the stain was quite dry. I saw it again the next morning when using the bathroom at work. I wiped it off and wondered what happened to me. Since then, I was very conscious about my nose and the appearance of the stain every time I looked into the mirror. I found it only in the mornings.

Yesterday after a sip of coffee, I saw myself in the mirror and found a wet fresh stain on the exact location of my nose. Oh so it was always my coffee mug giving me that stain! The skin over there had so little sensitivity.
I was actually happy about this discovery. I am so easy to get happy. But what about the day I saw the stain after work? For the entire day, I had the stain on my nose, and no one noticed? Or no one dared to say anything? Or no one inspected my face while talking to me?

People are so trained to say nothing about people's appearance to their faces. One of the best time-killing thing I do with Superstar is judging people on the street, in the subway, in a coffee shop, and everywhere we could speak in Mandarin without being understood. We judge people's body shapes, dressing styles, and even their facial expressions. We admire beautiful men and women. We always have fun. Of course, we don't say it to people.
One night I spoke pretty loudly in Mandarin to the back of a non-Chinese-speaking stranger. I said "you're fat." Superstar stopped me immediately, "What if people understand you? A lot people are learning Chinese now." I defended myself, pretending that I knew nothing about political correctness/politeness, "I'm just describing her body in a neutral way. Like height, skin color, or foot size."
Basically, when a description contains socially defined negative meaning, people do not want to hear about it and do not want to say it to other people either.

For example, "There is a stain on your nose" may not be a very nice thing to say.
But it is so not nice to leave the stain on my nose for the entire day. I am not offended by comments about my Asian small eyes, round nose, big shoe size, or misaligned teeth. You're welcome to say those to me. When I am in Taiwan, I am fine with people saying that I am fat or tall because I am by the standard held there.
I wish I could go to a person and say in a frank but positive tone:
"Hey your hair can be more visually pleasant than it is now."
"You're so confident that you wear American Apparel."
"Your eyes are huge." (Well... I did that)
"I love your sweater." (I said this before too)
"Please close your mouth when playing video games."
"You'll smell better if the perfume is less strong."
"Keep your Chihuahua away from me."

When you see a stain anywhere on my face, please tell me. If you don't, I will feel you don't respect me. See? I immediately judge you again. Can't help it.

It's all because of this new coffee hug mama gave me. (How inspiring!) The mug was a sample that one factory was making for the Taipei International Flura Expo. I loved the artistic print on the mug, but the lid gave me the stain on the nose. Is it too late to demand the factory to fix this problem among others? Well... I cannot release the secrets of coffee mug making. But, mama, ask them to build a better mug lid that will not stain a coffee lover's nose.

beach time in Atlantic City

October is not the best beach season for Americans. But it sort of is for me and Superstar. We walked on the beach after breakfast. We found no other human doing the same thing on a Friday morning. All we found were those left-overs of some mysterious creature from the Atlantic Ocean. They may have died before waves brought them up to the beach. They may have died because waves brought them up to the beach. I wish I saw some one alive and I could figure this out. Anyway I was excited and running around on the beach, yelling "here's another one" again and again as if I discovered some rare highly valuable gem.
I do not know what they are. They looked pretty ancient. Their history probably was billion times longer than humans. I should have seen them in an aquarium... or a fish market... but I could not recall.
To have fun with them, we gathered them together, facing the ocean:


With my shoes as a reference for size:


Who would've known that I had the best memory of Atlantic City on the beach of a windy chilly Friday in October? Who would've known? I was happy on Superstar's birthday (and Ching's).
A little happiness at a time.

very young and beautiful Asian girls

Sitting in a comfy couch and seeing a piece of beach with cloudless sky from the 11th floor of the hotel, I was caught by a page in Atlantic City Weekly. It was a page for massage advertisements. I did want some massage on vacation, and thus I stopped slipping through pages and read. But there was information more than massage.
Faces or bodies of female Eastern Asians were emphasized in pictures as well as in texts. If not, the word "oriental" would be mentioned.
I asked myself, "Do I want a session of great massage or some kind of 'massage' with an Asian girl? Would the girl perform massage at all? Or she would simply stand there smiling at me, showing me some of her skin from her privates?"
Just look at the page. Isn't it interesting? The "VIP ESCORT" ad, far left in the second row, featuring a girl showing her cleavage, said "beautiful young Asian girls". However, another ad "TOKYO ESCORTS" totally beat it because this ad featured a sexy back with texts "Have a fantastic time with very young and beautiful Asian girls". In addition, the "TOKYO ESCORTS" emphasized that "Outcall only" and "We come to you..." You know what? I loved those three dots. I almost called. Almost. I was afraid that I would not see the "very young and beautiful Asian girl" knock on my door, but a not very young or not very beautiful Asian woman would come with a beefy bodyguard and a "manager" who wanted to recruit me.

Later, I took a long walk on the Broadwalk and found so many massage stores. An Asian woman was sitting at or standing by the door of each store. None of them, women and the stores, looked slightly enticing. I would ask Superstar to give me a massage. With dot dot dot.

斷交

她跟我在電話裡斷交了。
朋友的定義是如此薄弱啊，一言兩語就情斷意絕。
只因為我沒有及時慰問她剛剛分手的難熬，她說得我一句也反駁不了。她形容我的行為，我沒有否認，我的確是放著她不去問，因為她沒有求援，因為我不會安慰。可是她指控我的罪名，我一個也沒有承認。我只承認我沒做到她定義下的「好朋友」。

可是想想，從小到大，每次我分手的時候，誰每晚會問候我？誰有問過我曾經有多難過？誰看過我哭過？我一個人還不是就這樣長大了，就這樣過了好多年，難道我要一個一個打電話跟所有認識的人絕交嗎？
跟某些女生當朋友真是累啊。要求真是多，她問我為什麼明明知道她是這麼在意卻還是沒理她，她怎麼不問問她自己到底有沒有了解過我是什麼人是怎麼表現在意的。
但是她一個氣頭上，我沒有必要跟她針鋒相對，我沒有跟她證明我是怎樣的人。我需要證明什麼啊？我為什麼要強辯自己是有多在乎她啊？難道要我切腹自殺割脕謝罪嗎？
我讓她唸完，我吸了一口氣只說：看來我們做不成朋友了，晚安。

就這樣了，我又跟一個人分手了。為什麼我老是那個提出分手的人？受不了我的人為什麼不果斷點呢？就說你不想要再理我了，我ＯＫ的啦。不要一直數落我還不自己走，等我說了，你又可以再多加一項罪名在我身上，說是我要分手的。我不在乎了，我們已經不是朋友了。

things you never know

1. The big old man somehow treats me like his pen pal. No one seems to like him. He was like a concrete wall with the physique of a basketball player. I had always thought that he looked down on people not only because of his height but also because of his pride. Rumors say that he is so so so proud of himself and his accomplishment to the medical field. I did and do pay respect to him. However, I was never afraid of him. For me, he was the big boss, and business is business, nothing personal. Now, he and I are friends. Seriously. He would email me his excitement on a trip to Taiwan and another trip to China. He would email me his great experiences in those countries. He would wish me have a great time and take care and use different fonts here and there. I am wondering whether he has grandkids. I could be his grandkid or a friend who can listen to him and say something back without being worried about my career.

2. I met the boy who was my first love fantasy even before I fell in love with Andy Lau. After 20 years, I could still see why he attracted me back then, but I do not see any attraction any more. I never told a soul about him at the time when having a feeling for him. I was too young and too busy. In a couple of years, I moved my fantasy to movie stars and got distracted by another boy who later got married at the age of 20. Things have evolved into very different things. At each stage, there is a certainty. At 11, I was certain that he would never love me and so I would keep the secret forever. At 21, I was certain that I would never feel more alive than having such a wonderful college career. At 31, I was certain that I would never know who I will meet and who I will keep in touch in the next 10 years.

3. My brother got the job. Mama emailed me the good news. I was so happy for her and of course for my bro. I always believe in mama. However, she always has doubts. She is afraid that she raised me and my bro in a horribly wrong way. So horrible that both of us are strong heads and independent thinkers. It is not horrible at all. It just makes our lives tougher because we believe we can do what we want to do and because we are so not listening to others. We want our own careers instead of a path set up by parents or a position prepared in a family business. Finally he made it! He learned it the hard way, but he earned it hard.

4. Taipei is so lovely. Of course, I have always loved it. However, the last trip touched a string in my heart that I had thought it would not happen until mama's hair got all silver. I felt acceptance. I felt that Taipei accepted my existence. I have run away for eight years, away from the traditional burden on women, away from the pressure for holding different opinions on being happy. This time around I did not feel out-of-place and I felt that I could possibly move back.

5. Work piles up as it always does. I did not make a to-do list at the end of my trip back to US, which is rare. Something made me relaxed. I am not going to slack off but I will re-pace myself. Time to reset.

6. I accidentally reset my iPhone and lost every thing. EVERY thing. Arhh... all the pictures taken in Taipei disappeared. The pictures with grandma and friends... Now I am trying my best to reconstruct every moment when I had meals and meetings with them. Never ever try to be a smart arss when being attacked by jet lag.

開心啊

八年來第一次幫麻嗎過生日啊！
不知道是她比我開心，還是我比她開心？
七點多先吃個早餐，聊天聊到十點多，然後各自在自己的電腦前做事做到十一點多，吃個午餐和水果。啊～　涼麵口味數十年如一日的熟悉，麻嗎蔬菜湯依然是沒有負擔的好喝，超大台灣水蜜桃多汁多甜又多果肉。
小小午休一下，看看公事，回應美國方面的文件，一個下午又過去了。

漢漢打扮體面帥氣，麻嗎拿著我神秘禮物，胚穿著班比巧手兩針的一片裙，我們三人出遊去！
好有全家福的幸福感。
感謝 Judy 介紹還幫忙訂位的餐廳，四知堂果然名不虛傳，三十年前的鄉下老氣氛，舒服的木桌木椅，老書老壺老擺設，柔和的燈光，無敵居家親切的招待。
小菜中的山葵立刻獲得麻嗎讚賞，清蒸海瓜子與絲瓜是鮮美極品，老闆特別為壽星準備的豬腳麵線更是驚艷... 入口即化的豬腳是我們祈求三十年的夢想啊... 因為阿嬤滷的豬腳總是硬梆梆又太鹹，每次回家大團圓，總是避開阿嬤視線，拜託她不要丟一塊豬腳在我碗裡。
今日全魚也是一級棒，是沒吃過沒想像過的烤全魚，魚肉裡竟然有馬鈴薯、梅子、檸檬的香味。
一桌好菜後，以為就沒啥新奇，可是讓麻嗎跟漢漢最讚賞居然是招待的甜點：香濃的仙草盛在紅豆湯裡，還有綿密的豆花。好久沒有出來吃館子吃得一家都開心呢，非常開心呢。


晚餐後的節目是去兜風，一路開到八里，在左岸吹夏夜晚風散步看淡水，玩到十點多才回家。
麻嗎說她累癱了。嘿嘿，我還滿得意的，我想我們都滿得意的。

光頭的背影

我認識幾個光頭佬，他們並不老，只是二十幾歲就禿了，索性就剃光了。
有兩個光頭佬的魅力不因為光頭而減少，他們曾經在不同的時間點增添我生活的樂趣，不過他們都已經不知去向了。

Heath算是瘦小但是精壯的體型，很 man 很宏亮的聲音。最常用的字眼是 f 開頭的那個字，是名詞動詞也是副詞形容詞，但是從不覺得他在罵人或是情緒化，他就是可以很有創意很生活化的用那個字交到很多朋友。
他有很多朋友嗎？我其實不是很確定，但是我倒是很欣賞他的直率，完全沒有一般美國白人裝模作樣的虛偽，他開心他不開心都直接表達。
我記得他說流利的法文德文和西班牙文，一點也不像典型的德州佬。我羨慕他去過很多地方，我也想要當考古學家。
他烤的牛排很好吃，道道地地的美式大塊牛肉，大火上烤十二分鐘五分熟，粗鹽加新鮮黑胡椒，那是我記憶裡很開心的一個夏天傍晚。在座還有誰聊了什麼話發生什麼事，我不太記得了。
然後呢？他說他戀愛了，他開著他的卡車回德州參加高中同學會，跟過去老同學再見鍾情？似乎是這樣的，總之他回來賓州後就說他戀愛了。認識他的人都滿意外的，Heath 不是不相信戀愛的嗎？
他很會攀岩，徒手攀岩的他像是蜘蛛，快速來去不畏地心引力。
他家裡放了一個倒過來的枯樹，根在上，粗粗的枝在下。還放了一張至少 4x6 的童年大頭照在客廳裡。他是我唯一認識的被領養長大的人。
我借他看 Before Sunrise 和 Before Sunset，而且一起在他家裡看完其中一部。
我對他的記憶就是這樣，不是很連貫，就在離開賓州時，我決定那兩部相隔九年的電影不再是我念念不忘的好作品了，Heath也不見了。
今天經過一個街角，一個帶著圓邊布帽的光頭佬讓我想起了 Heath. 啊，Heath 也愛穿很合身的 T-shirt 的。我沒有等那陌生人轉身，我已經看見 Heath 的笑臉，我繼續往前走。

偶爾這樣想起一個生命裡的過客，我淡淡的笑，他現在人在哪裡並不重要。

傷心事

她淚眼汪汪，這是第二次讓我撞見，她依然推說這是過敏反應。
我也是容易過敏的體質，今天的空氣品質可是很好的呢，炎炎夏日，有風，沒有花粉，沒有煙塵，也不是動物換毛的季節，這藉口實在太沒有說服力了。
我於是走進她辦公室，問 "Need a hug?"
街上常遇到身上掛著 "FREE HUG" 的年輕人，但是去擁抱他們的人不是很踴躍，像我這麼三八又愛抱抱的人都沒去抱過那些似乎在推銷熱情的陌生人。
今天我主動出擊了，珍妮點了一下頭，就在我懷裡哭了。我不是陌生人。

在我的工作環境裡，常常有陌生人告訴我很私密的事情，他們是中風病人或是病人家屬，都是很脆弱的人，我聽我點頭，我說 "我不能體會你的感受，因為我真的沒經歷過你正在經歷的事情，我很抱歉你這麼這麼不好受。"
如果自我介紹說我是神經認知心理學家，有些病人或是家屬就會很積極的問我腦傷可能怎麼影響他們的腦功能 (所謂認知是腦功能的一部份，包括空間感，時間感，五官知覺，語言，學習，記憶，注意力，動作控制，音樂能力，邏輯能力，人際相處等等），有些人還會記下我介紹的科普書。積極尋覓知識的病人通常都復癒的比較好，憂鬱的病人往往離康復的目的地非常遙遠。

當察覺同事難過的時候，我第一個反應通常是假裝沒看到，希望他們認為自己故作堅強的本事是很高超的。如果我拆穿他們，他們可能會很窘會更難過。再讓我看到一次，我就會私下去關懷一下。
個性使然嗎？經常有同事一進我辦公室就關上門，說要我跟說些我絕對要保密的事情。我的助理甚至拉我到遠離實驗室的房間，熱淚盈眶的說她的傷心事。我現在有好多人的秘密啊...　我聽我點頭我說 "我不能體會你的感受，因為我真的沒經歷過你正在經歷的事情，我很抱歉你這麼這麼不好受。"

珍妮的眼睛哭得太紅腫，掛著墨鏡跟我一起在中庭用餐，同桌的另外兩個同事不知所以，珍妮說她過敏，我笑說她對陽光過敏，珍妮接著說吃過什麼抗過敏的藥，Donnis and Malica 也附和起來說他們吃過什麼牌子的藥，聊到別的話題，笑笑鬧鬧一陣，回到辦公室珍妮的眼睛已經不紅了。
她表現的很專業，一樣準時上下班，一樣認真處理她的業務，我看得有點心疼。不過，上班工作跟同事哈拉其實是有療效的，她暫時不用面對那個傷心事。

我過得不錯，不只是還好而已，已經很久沒有太傷心的事了。
Time heals every wound. If you don't have health insurance, get a watch.
笑一個，就離傷心的核遠一點了。

shitty day

It is one of those days that I feel like shit, and I should have just stayed in bed the entire day.
However, it does not just happen today. It has been a process piling up shitty things, and boom today I got hit.

Let's blame the weather first. This summer is so unbearable. Roasted in the car. Frozen in the office. Burned under the sun. Drowsy under the shade. My hermit crab Bully 小霸王 was found bathing in the water dish when I came home today.
I usually did not mind the heat. But I did not sleep enough last night, and I am going through those days when the stomach area is cranky. My head feels spinning. A few hours ago I was wondering whether it was really a good idea driving 40 minutes to see a patient. I decided to give a try.

I liked this patient. He made me feel that I am doing something important. I did not want to re-schedule him or stand him up. If I did, he would have taken it very personally and depressed. When a person is so smart and successful professionally, he/she easily gets depressed after a stroke. This patient was a successful man, and his weight symbolizes his wealth. I arrived there and found nurse aides to transfer him from bed to chair. It took four people and a lifting machine to complete the transfer. At this point, I could not back up and have to give it a try unless everyone's effort was wasted. A smile was always on my face, covering my cosmetic-free expression.
I took the patient to a big room with sunshine. The session started. After 30 minutes, he was so frustrated by his performance that he got a headache and he wished not to continue. I respected his decision and calmed him down. He kept apologizing to me, and I kept saying that it was alright.

I keep saying to many people that everything is alright. Earlier today my assistant dropped me a news, and I smiled and accepted it and could not help but begin to plan the next step. My boss threw me "suggestions", and I replied with "thank you and I will definitely do them." The to-do list is getting longer, and ... ha! I just thought of something, and opened up the work email, and sent a message to follow up a project. My head is so occupied with work and headache. I tell myself that everything is alright.

It is one of those shitty days that I feel shitty but I cannot show it. I could not even roll my eyes... I am toooo nice. Damn. Even the paying machine did not sense a touch... and made the easy 4-item purchase at the Eden Garden feel like waiting in line in a Walmart. Damn the headache and everything makes it worse!
Oh, everything will be alright.


p.s. Hermit crabs were fighting last night. Bauy 小寶 the new guy and the smallest (half size of the others) was threatened by Tiger 小虎, who was intimidated by Bully 小霸王. I watched them too late. They were amazing creatures. Perhaps they felt shitty too, being trapped in a transparent tank where the outside world looks so big but they cannot reach it.

難涼

站在街上，流汗。
坐在家裡，流汗。
邊走路邊流汗，邊開車邊流汗，邊等地鐵邊流汗，邊看球賽邊流汗，邊跳舞邊流汗，邊睡覺邊流汗。
太陽很烈，空氣很濕，雷陣雨很突然，今年紐約夏天很台北。唯一不同的是，這裡晚上九點天才整個黑下來。
已經連續好多天攝氏 35 度左右的高溫，人都慵懶懶散起來，更容易早睡，卻不一定可以早起。

可是我就是可以早起...
三個禮拜前，我自告奮勇的強迫自己早一個小時到辦公室，試試看當個 morning person 的感覺，竟然有一種莫名的很對得起自己的成就感。以前老覺得畢業後就沒有很努力，下班後提不起勁多讀點書，現在下班後不做事完全沒有罪惡感。
原來，我真的還滿喜歡我的工作的。
今天來了一個高中生，他是某某大頭的遠親，他說他就要升高三了，他來我們研究中心想要了解一下腦科學是什麼，降子他年初申請大學的時候，或是選修課程的時候，或甚至是大學畢業後要念醫學院還是進研究所就會比較知道有個底。我聽了還挺開心的，難得遇到有衝勁似乎還聰明的美國白人小孩，於是就很有熱誠的跟他聊了半個小時。想當初我在他這年紀的時候也定好了志向了，他的年紀整整是我的一半啊，我好不容易終於變成前輩了，偷笑偷笑。

後來我的研究助理進來跟我報告她的流水帳，她今天又穿得很辣，我應該要提醒她不能露乳溝的，但是我沒說，只問她身體好一點沒，她這個月請了兩天病假了。我也是喜歡漂亮的人事物的，如果她笑起來不甜，長相身材普普，天天跟我計較午休有沒有滿一個小時，我才不要養她呢。唉，可惜典型的假面笨笨美國人還是多過聰明機伶的小孩。

連續高溫，路人越穿越少啦，Hoboken 和 Manhattan 完全不代表美國人平均身材，男人女人都像是平面雜誌廣告模特兒，下班後就坐在河邊看夕陽，看紐約市，看漂亮的人體，看可愛的小朋友和小狗，看班比多會流汗。

熱熱熱熱啊

change and the PA trip

2005



2010



Within five years, a residential community, apartment complex, has been built on location, and the restaurant made a hill to block the ugly view of match-box houses.
Things have changed. Or some people would like another word for it: Things have evolved. Anyway, I spent my vacation in Pennsylvania last week. First stop was State College, where I lived from August 13, 2002 to May 28, 2007.

State College is different now. For a person who dislikes cupcakes, I tried cupcakes downtown State College. The store is new and called Indulge. Surprisingly, I did not dislike them.
Herwig's moved to a location on College Ave. The food was not as good as before. But the space was much bigger for seating me and my friends.
The night club Players changed its name to something else, but the logo looked the same to me.
The End Results became a bike store. Many more PSU-logo-ed stores are open. Many more clothing shops are open. But why are there two Dunkin Donuts? Hey, Starbucks, get one more store in State College, please.
The Big Bowel Noodle moved to its next door, and is much cleaner with a cute logo.
The downtown cinema is gone and became a Chipotle. The theater on College Ave plays independent films.
I found a Five Guys burger place in town! I really like it in Hoboken.

However, most of the things did not change. The wall of paintings of local elites is still there colorfully. Webster's bookstore. Allen Street Grill. Irving's. Zola. Indian Pavilion. PSU Creamery still serves super-sized scoop of ice cream. Tourists still take pictures with the Nittany Lion. Squirrels are still everywhere.
Standing there, I realized that I didn't miss it at all. I felt very little connection between me and State College/Penn State. Because my graduate-school advisors no longer live there? Because many friends moved or are going move out of it? Because of the new stores in town? No, none of those. It must be me.
I must have changed.

Without much burden of emotional memory, I visited State College and the other towns: State College -> Mill Run (Fallingwater) -> Mt Pleasant -> Ohiopyle -> Pittsburgh -> Bird In Hand -> Intercourse -> King Of Prussia.
I had a great time. Change is good.

Re-visiting my 5-year pennsylvanian life in 6 days

mother's month

It's the season of graduation, and it's why the traffic was so good in the morning. I guess. People are taking days off for their children, their close families, and their loved friends' graduations.

Last night the Chinese restaurant owner asked me why less and less Chinese students came to order food, and was it because they had some meal plans? I said I was not studying in this town. She apologized nicely, and I smiled and left. I knew my look has not changed since I was 12.

I am so done with schools.
I remember pieces of my graduations. The day I graduated from the kindergarten was the day I first tasted McDonald's, which was right next to my school and was one of the first stores opened in Taiwan. That was the only graduation that my father participated. I don't quite remember where mama was, and I believe that she was on a business trip overseas.

Several days before my elementary school graduation, the teacher was making a decision who were the best ten students in the class. She asked me if I minded to be the 11th even though I was actually one of the two 10th. She said that I could still sit on the stage but my name would not be called. I guess I was alright about it. I don't recall any family member being there for me. I had been used to being left alone by my parents, seriously, at that point of time when they were so busy with their own mess.

Junior high graduation was quite emotional. Everyone cried. Many students, including me, started our own personalized yearbooks for classmates and friends to not just sign but also to write pages of notes. Some students would get mad if their "best friends" did not write much. Mine was held by a friend who eventually wrote 20-something pages. Now this friend and I have lost connection.
Mama came to my graduation because I graduated as the best student in my class. She wore an elegant light green suit. Her hair was long, and it sides were loosely gathered on the back with a simple delicate chignon. My hair was long too, and I loved it when people said that we were like sisters even though the speaker and the listener knew it was not true.

High school graduation was a blur. Everyone was very happy to get out of the school, and no one was feeling sad. In fact, many of my classmates went to the same university, but I did not, which never bothered me because I seriously forgot about the names of people I met during those three years within three months. The graduation itself was not memorable either, but the incidents afterward were. I got a huge bouquet with 99 red roses from a boy I went out with, and a bouquet with tens of champagne roses from a mysterious neighbor who took the same bus with me for years. They did not become my boyfriends.
Mama did not attend my commencement for it was infamously boring with politicians. However, I called her to come for my roses; they were too much for me to carry home.

Graduation from the university was quite fun. I volunteered to give a speech so that mama would agree to come. She did show up and appeared proud of me. I don't quite remember what happened after the ceremony, but I smile every time I thought about it.

I actually did not graduate from a masters program because the department did not offer one. However, they did offer a masters degree once I met all the criteria before continuing on my doctoral program. Therefore, I provided mama an excuse to take her first ever long doing-nothing vacation from work since she had started working at the age of 22. She came for my masters. I borrowed a gown and walked. After shaking the dean's hand, my hand accidentally left in his sleeve. Blame the ridiculous wizard gown. Was the dean a he or she? Oh well...
After driving Mama to JFK, I felt like accomplishing something huge, and tears came.

I did not walk after finishing the doctoral program. For me, the day I passed my oral defense was the day I graduated. And seriously, commencements were boring. And seriously, I refused to pay $850 to buy a doctoral gown. I used the money to fly back home for a month.

You will not believe it that I actually graduated once again two years after getting my PhD. The postdoc fellowship I got was a very structured program, which ended with a ritual sacrifice of my and my fellows' time (9am to 10pm). Although no one close or dear to me was there that night, I was quite emotional. I felt so alone. Professionally I seemed to achieve something, but personally I truly wished someone were there to make me feel that I might have achieved something. I drafted a thankyou note in my head as if mama were there.

Thinking back, my adulthood was shaped being "independent" or bravely alone. I am not proud of it. I wish everyone could get their dreams come true in their own countries, using their languages and being with their families and friends in a reasonable driving distance.

Today Mama just received her gift from me for Mother's Day, which I thought was May 16. USPS was not bad at all. I thought it would take at least ten days, but she got the gift in 7 days. Nice. She also found the wrist watch! She lost it a couple weeks ago. It was mine until last year when she saw it.

All I want to say is thank you and I love you, mama. I wish I got to say so at one of my many graduations. 麻嗎 謝謝

I love you too.

華語電影

最近看了幾部華語電影，有恍如隔世的感覺，懷念起說中文的世界。

我一直很喜歡舒淇的野性美，但是她對我來說不算是電影明星，而是個漂亮的明星，在看"非誠勿擾"之前，我直覺的想不出來任何一部電影可以說是她的代表作。我說不出來到底是"非誠勿擾"是個非常適合她發揮的故事，還是她真的很有演技，不過總之她是電影裡美麗的元素之一。班比要我留她的髮型... 男人對於長髮的執著真的沒什麼道理。就像我不喜歡男人留長髮遮眼睛，除非他是金城武。我扯遠了。
而葛優呢，當然就是個很棒的演員，從很久以前的"活著"，我就很欣賞他了，就算他後來在其他電影裡演配角或是更小的角色都是很搶戲的。看他表演就好像是看相聲一樣的精采和幽默，那些對白如果是台灣口音或是香港口音的演員說起來就沒那麼有效果了。尤其是他說著"人潮中驚鴻一瞥"那段，還有他用"欸"斷句或答話的時候，我真的是現在想起來都還是會想笑。他齟著嘴點頭的樣子還有點像我爸呢。
其實電影故事很簡單，是導演說故事的功力很好，演員表演很精采，畫面非常非常的漂亮，讓人想去蘇杭和北海道冥想。不過愛情的部份對我來說並不是很有說服力，也沒有特別感動，大概是因為我的確是有點人生歷練了，也看過太多愛情喜劇了，到底葛優為何喜歡上舒淇，以及葛優到底有多喜歡她，基本上不像是這電影的重點。而友情的部份，雖然著墨的時間不多，不過在葛優跟他朋友在北海道告別的那一幕，我差點哭了，時空分隔的老友與多年在異鄉的遊子這種題材果然是只有在有了人生歷練之後才有感觸的呢。
所以讓人笑又讓人哭，真的是很難得的時裝小品。我找到葛優的角色在電影裡的徵婚啟示，超對味的！　（剪貼自 Forever Fish)

~~~~

你要想找一帥哥就別來了，你要想找一錢包就別見了，碩士學歷以上的免談，上海女人免談，女企業家免談（小商小販除外），省得咱們互相都會失望。
劉德華和阿湯哥那種才貌雙全的郎君是不會來徵你的婚的，當然我也沒做諾丁山的夢。您要真是一仙女我也接不住，沒期待您長得跟畫報封面一樣，看一眼就魂飛魄散。
外表時尚，內心保守，身心都健康的一般人就行，要是多少還有點兒婉約那就更靠譜了。

心眼別太多，歲數別太小，允許時常有不切實際的想入非非，但三句話就能給轟回現實，還不氣不惱，頂多有點兒難為情地咧嘴一笑，就該幹嗎幹嗎去了。
我喜歡會疊衣服的女人，每次洗完燙平疊得都像剛從商店裏買回來的一樣。
說的夠具體了吧。 自我介紹一下，我，歲數已經不小了，日子小康，抽煙不喝酒，留學生身份出去的，在國外生活過十幾年，沒正經上過學，蹉跎中練就一身生存技能，現在學無所成海外歸來，實話實說應該定性為一隻沒有公司沒有股票沒有學位的「三無偽海龜」。

性格OPEN，人品五五開，不算老實人，但天生膽小，殺人不犯法我也殺不了人，傷天害理了自己良心也備受摧殘，命中註定想學壞都當不了大壞蛋。總體而言基本上還是屬於對人群對社會有益無害的一類。

有意者電聯，非誠勿擾。

~~~~

讓我笑也讓我哭的另一部華語電影是"長江七號"。催淚的部分應該是大家都同意的那一幕小朋友哭著說他累了要老師回家，哭著說他醒來爸爸就回來了。成功的讓我滿臉都是淚。
更成功的部份是周星馳可以調教一群小朋友玩無厘頭的表演，他們的表情和對話幾乎跟周星馳和那群班底演員經常運用在其他電影裡的一樣，也差不多好笑，只是比較溫馨，性相關的笑話幾乎沒有。我很喜歡打蟑螂那段，一開始是有點噁心，不過我就是笑了。
然後... 就笑笑囉，娛樂兩個小時，不用想太多。

另一部在美國也租得到的電影是"赤壁"。應該說是兩部，不過對我來說就是一大部場面浩大，故事和對白莫名奇妙的古裝片。
我對三國志或是三國演義一點研究都沒有，在看這部電影之前，並沒聽說過趙子龍這號人物，卻變成我目前最喜歡的三國角色，英勇帥氣啊！胡軍真是讚啊。但是就是因為我幾乎不知道這個故事內容和人物，電影一開始我就整著亂掉，還要班比在旁邊跟我解說。如果只有書迷才能懂，這樣算是成功嗎？
至於超有名的關羽和張飛，他們一出場我就笑不停了，根本就是太典型的裝扮加上完全沒有深度的對白，為什麼關羽的鬍子都不會亂啊？為什麼張飛就是一個莽夫到白目的境界？每一個角色都太平面了，除了演曹操的張丰毅算是很值得讚賞的演出之外，其他演員讓我完全無法入戲。梁朝偉挺難發揮的，他跟小喬的一對一恩愛橋段幾乎都沒有必要，根本就是拖戲。金城武就是一個帥囉，不過我覺得他有把"穩重"演出來，不只是點頭微笑搧扇子，可是很難從他漂亮的眼睛裡找到他想要表現"內心戲"的企圖。張震就是... 他的聲音不會演戲。趙薇倒是滿可愛的，不過她脫掉軍帽玩起洗髮精廣告那招太搞笑了，把嚴肅的"女人也是可以報效國家"的氣氛完全拉到"女人仍然是花瓶"的無奈。
終於撐著看完整部戲，看了一下DVD 裡的幕後花絮，我又不禁搖頭，旁白過於突兀和嚴肅就算了，整個剪輯沒有整體性，覺得是草草亂亂的紀錄毛片。

後來，班比讓我看 "越光寶盒"... 我不喜歡搞笑片的重點是在取笑別的電影，一點原創性也沒有。只是鄭中基真的是醜的很好笑。

大陸電影蓬勃起來是很好的現象呢，帶動整個華語電影工業和市場，幕前幕後的人才終於又有舞台而且可以吃飽飯，觀眾才有福氣看到競爭下的好作品，好像回到小時候國片和港片盛行的年代，大家都有共同的電影回憶，同一個語言的笑點和感動。
如果我只能選擇支持一種藝術形式，一定是電影。如果我要重新回到學校，一定是學電影相關的領域。如果我學成可以有什麼貢獻，一定是貢獻給華語電影。啊，如果啊，十二歲那年愛上看電影，如果當時台灣的電影產業蓬勃，說不定我真的就認真考慮要把它當成我的志願呢。
期待看下一部好電影。

Facebook friends

Perhaps I should've avoided it, but I did not. I clicked it. And my heart rate began accelerating before every thing appeared. And I kept on clicking to see every image as if it helped to slowed down my blood circulation.
I had been imagining about this day. Now I realize that nothing could prepare it. Since the first time I started imagining this specific event, I had come up with so many different scenarios, but I never thought Facebook was the media.

Some "friends" feed the "news" so frequently which makes me wonder if I really want to experience everything they feel so awesome or aweful about. Their news feeds cover the entire first "home" page and pushed the news that I actually may be interested (because those are from friends who I actually care or am close with) to the "older posts".
Like now, if you read this blog via Facebook, you may understand what I am talking about.

An RA went on a vacation with her ex-boyfriend. Another RA went to see a hokey game with her ex-boyfriend. I was like "why?" They went "oh, he is just a friend now."
I see, but why did you say you were going to do so and so with your ex-boyfriend, instead of a friend. An ex is always an ex. He or she will always be in this special category of "ex", and never ever will be a friend without any description. "Just" is a description.
Now we people have made yet another category of friends: Facebook friends. So tiring.
But at least, that's where an ex can go. You get it? A friend can be a Facebook friend. An ex can be a Facebook friend. But an ex cannot be a friend. So an ex and a friend can co-exist in the big pool of Facebook wonderland swimming with Facebook friends. However, an ex and a friend will never cross over to each other's category, but both of them may, as time goes by and my hearty feels fade away, become simply Facebook friends.

Sometimes, I wonder whether it is better to reconnect those old-time friends with Facebook and make them Facebook friends, or to keep them safe and sound in my memory as a friend.

newark without murders

For many Taiwanese, Newark is one of the airports where they enter the United States and go visit the heart of the Big Apple, Manhattan. For me, it has been the place I want to avoid as much as possible.

I drove through there at night the first time in 2007 to pick up a friend at the Newark Penn Station. I told my friend that I had to be very focused and please do not talk me. Every time I stopped for a traffic light, I felt time crawling painfully slowly. I was very aware of anyone walking toward my direction or any car stopped near me.
How could I not be afraid? All the stores were fended with metal bars. More than half of the buildings were deserted with windows broken. People crossed roads at zero speed or without a sense of emergency from any direction. I wished I were not driving such an easily targeted car. I wished I were not an Asian gal.

I drove through there once during a day time. Technically, it was Kara who drove me through there to get my car. Bungbung had been towed within 15 minutes after I parked it in a parking lot of a commercial plaza right across the medical school. In case you don't know what a plaza is, it is a complex of buildings of restaurants, markets, and shops. Using my common sense, I thought I could stop there for 30 min to do some business outside the plaza. Someone must have spied on me and called the towing company the minute I walked out. Anyway, when Kara drove me to buy my car back, I was hoping my car was still in one piece... judging from the neighborhood around the towing company.

About two weeks ago I was in Newark for some academic activity. After giving a talk in the university, I decided to walk around and explore a bit based on my belief that things around the campus should be better and friendlier. I also believed that there should be many cute independent small cafes or shops around the university because of the liberal mind associated with students and scholars.
Oh well... I walked at least 5 blocks and found nothing interesting. In the heart of Newark, the number of abandoned buildings revealed under the noon sun was disturbingly large. It did not feel like a city. It was almost empty. Even the people came out seeking for lunch were no more than the people in downtown South Orange.
I almost gave up and found the Coffee Cave, which was exactly what I was looking for: a coffee shop with its own character. The zucchini panini was normally good. The latte was as good as I hoped. Art works of a specific artist were on the wall. A magazine on the homosexual communities was displayed. Flyers and postcards of local events were available. I sat there happily for an hour or so. But would I go back to Newark just for sitting in the Coffee Cave? I am afraid not.

Today since the morning traffic jam, I have listened to the same radio news for at least three times until I parked my car in the evening. The news was about a celebration, apparently, or a congratulation to Newark. What happened? Oh they are celebrating the fact that there was not a single murder in March 2010, which was the first ever murder-free month since May 1966.
I was like.... but just yesterday they found two dead bodies in trash bags. Oh, yesterday was in April, so it did not count. Right.. hm... I still do not want to drive or walk or do anything in Newark if not extremely necessary. I love my life.

I wonder how much power the mayor has in an American city. What can a city government do to make a city prettier and user-friendlier? Is there any private sector who is interested in making Newark a better place to live?
The look of Newark definitely needs to be redone. The fear of being in Newark needs to be addressed and reduced. Streets are not supposed be war zones. Streets are supposed to be inviting average good-intentioned citizens and visitors, not criminals.
According to the U.S. Census Bureau, out of the 70 large cities, New York is ranked the 20th with 6 murders per 100,000 population in 2007, while Newark is at the 66th with 37.1 murders. By the total of violent crimes (e.g., murder, rape, robbery), New York is at the 17th, and Newark is the 36th. Today another news piece was about bikers complaining about how unfriendly Newark is for bikers. Who would like to ride a bicycle in a city where a crime can just happen anytime any corner?
Dexter is a good TV show. Why They Kill is a very good book. However, I do not want to be so close to a city of violence in real life. A city should not be celebrating a murder-free month but be ashamed by the fact that people are living in such a danger and fear.

Stop donating money and effort to other countries, America. Help your cities and citizens first.

detachment

I knew he would simply be a data point in my final report. He would be dissolved into part of the "n" and provide some kind of "average". I would then say something about the likelihood or probability or odd ratio or "not reach statistic significance".
However, for him, stroke happened to him 100%, highly significantly impacting his cognitive, physical, social, and perhaps mental functions. When I was talking with him, he was not simply a data point. He was a brave survivor, enduring various kinds of tests and research experiment procedures. Therefore, I was detached from my "gotta-get-great-effect-size-published" mood, but became nice and smiley and helpful, and remained objective.
Mr. S was quite competitive. Although being a stroke survivor, his attitude and performance were much better than some of my "healthy controls" (i.e., neurologically unimpaired research participants). His wife, on the other hand, was in a not-so-well typical care-giver depression. I wish her well.
Everyone needs to be positive and hopeful in this situation.

When someone you care gets a stroke in his/her right brain, please please please google "spatial neglect". This disorder is most observable in the acute state (within a couple weeks after stroke). And you will understand why you have failed to understand your beloved one. This person's world is no longer like yours, and he/she will not verbally express it because for him/her, nothing went wrong.
How would you know whether the stroke is in the left or right brain? Easy. See if the patient's right or left limbs are weak or paralyzed. The limbs are controlled by the opposite cerebral hemisphere.
Mrs. S had been frustrated for almost 6 months until listening to my presentation on spatial neglect. She suddenly realized why it was so difficult to communicate with her husband in the beginning of his hospitalization. He had said that he felt weird, and usually said so in a visually crowded environment, but he was unable to say what was weird. I did not know if Mr. S had spatial neglect or any kind of impairment in spatial attention, but I knew there was some remaining spatial deficits, for which I enrolled him to my study.
I wished Mrs. S would've been educated more about the difficulty of caring a right-hemisphere stroke patient.

I am not saying that damage in the left hemisphere is free of spatial neglect. It's just less likely... about 50% less.

I talked to Mrs. C this afternoon. Her husband was by the bedside as well. Mr. C said that Mrs. C's memory was still very sharp after stroke. I explained that spatial function was more difficult to detect than memory in daily life. They both listened carefully to me, and they were interested to participate!
I would not know whether their data would be useful in my final report until they pass the screening tests. However, just talking to them I could feel that I helped already.

I was in a seminar of a conference. The presenter showed that patients who learned about brain neuroscience recovered better than patients who did not. That makes sense. Acquiring information makes people feel a sense of control. But more importantly, learning changes brain. To learn is to rewire the brain, which means to make the damaged brain re-organized.

It makes my day when I immediately feel a positive mood from patients after they listen to me.
Whether the final report will make my career or destroy many days of my life, I will not think about it now.

全球暖化

你現在看到的是我家的天窗，從早上八點半開始，也就是我發動引擎離開 Hoboken 的時候，開始下雪，進辦公室不到一個小時，人事部發佈消息，要大家下午一點前離開。
我可是雪中老匠啊，早上出門前看著細細的落雪，想著昨天氣象預報不停說今天會下濕溼答答不乾不脆的雪中雨，就在猶豫到底要不要冒險，可是為了表現敬業，為了當研究助理們的好榜樣，我穿上雪靴，一拐一拐的出門了.... 一拐一拐是因為我的腳後跟受了笨傷，知道我的人見識過我隨便走走乾淨平地都可以扭傷腳踝，這腳後跟笨傷是前天關公寓柵門的時候，被柵門底刮下一層皮，血流難止了一個晚上。現在不穿鞋還沒什麼感覺，但是穿著靴子可是很痛的。誰叫我腿長呢 :(
總之，我抵達研究中心小丘底的時候，雪落下的速度已經快過鏟雪車能應付的局面了，當下決定不開上山丘頂，雖然研究人員必須要停在山丘頂，但是想到兩年前打滑的慘痛經驗，我決定停在醫院入口，反正今天醫院的警衛不會閒到來開我單。

小心翼翼到家的時候，雪已經下了超過五個小時了，天窗外是圓頂玻璃的，如果只是一點點雪，是會滑落的，如今雪都積的看不到天了。現在算算，是超過七個小時了。一點都沒有停歇的跡象，反而越下越大。
我個人認為是因為我前幾天擦車。我不是很常擦車的，因為幫幫停在路邊，每天要越過一個工業區帶我去上班，他是經常蒙著灰塵，不過因為是金屬光澤的寶藍色，又有可愛的笑臉，很少人看到他就立刻說 "怎麼這麼髒啊" ，通常是說 "我好愛你的車子喔" (然後我說 "我也是")。
我上一回擦車子，不到一天，就下雨了。我那次只擦了一遍，沒有很仔細。
我這回擦車子，因為在 Kimberly 家後院，我自在的悠閒的仔細的擦了三遍，並沒有很乾淨很乾淨，但是我已經不錯自豪了。三天不到，好了吧，下大雪。於是又再驗証一次：洗車祈雨的神奇效果，而且冬天可是會祈到雪的。
科學家說這是全球暖化的關係，笨美國保守人士不這麼認為，一直在罵 "全球暖化" 是個謬論。
好吧，你說啊，不是因為全球暖化，那是因為什麼呢？今天冬天的雪也未免太頻繁了吧，我已經不在賓州了，怎麼冬天還這麼長這麼濕呢？
全球暖化的重點是 "全球" 不是美國，暖化的現象並不是說冬天就消失了，而是這是一個怎樣的冬天，而且未來的冬天會怎麼樣。小時候大家都學過的啊，暖空氣容易帶水氣，這幾場大雪就是暖空氣帶了過多水氣造成的。另一個大重點是：暖化是一個氣候的變化，不是天氣的變化。就好像憂鬱症跟憂鬱是不一樣的。

還是不願意相信全球暖化，也不願意說為什麼不相信？美國保守人士很信奇蹟的，也很信沒有科學基礎的選擇性抽樣。那就怪我擦車擦得太仔細了吧。
都怪我吧。在夏天來之前，幫幫都要髒髒的了。

Feb 26, 2010 早上，這一幕讓我決定待在家裡望著雪景，寫我的稿子，讀我的期刊報告。

雪裡有霜也有炭

從墨西哥回來的一個禮拜之內下了兩場雪, 整個就是跟墨西哥海岸的沙灘陽光是天壤之別.
美國的氣象都很準, 禮拜二一早大家就人心惶惶, 果然禮拜二下午很多公司學校機關就宣佈禮拜三修身養息好好冬眠.
也還好有放假, 不然我的研究計畫還真的很難審過改完, 禮拜三我整整在家工作了十二小時, 看著外面的積雪越來越厚, 祈禱第二天一定要放晴, 不然計畫寄不出去我一定會哭的.
也還好放了一天雪假, 台北家裡吵吵鬧鬧有人生病有人生氣, 我隔空安撫, 有點內外夾攻的感覺, 但也算是寫研究計畫之外的小小調劑, 雖然不是很正面, 卻也讓我感覺我跟台北沒有脫節. 親情果然是偉大的.
雪假的隔天, 天空大放晴, 我付了美金十五元讓人把幫幫挖出路邊, 研究計畫幾乎就緒, 我老闆卻在過了下午五點鐘之後才把一份重要的文件給我... 所以我一定要禮拜五才能完成寄送研究計畫申請的手續. 美國聯邦的研究計畫申請一定要研究機構的某一個人才能做寄送的手續, 計畫主持人不等同於計畫申請人. 所以我要等到人家上班時間才能請人家(研究經費辦公室經理) 幫我完成寄送的手續.
依舊一夜未好眠的睡了一覺...
班比老是朝笑我怎麼都能睡著, 隔壁 pub 的超強重低音之下我也可以準時在午夜前閉上眼睛遁入夢境. 但是夢境有分好壞的, 我經常夢見我在準備大學聯考或是研究所入學考, 身邊的同學卻又幾乎是國中同學甚至是大學同學, 我總是莫名奇妙的害怕國文歷史地理, 我覺得我一定會考不好... 卻又似乎很清醒的知道我早就過了大學聯考的年紀, 我連博士都拿到了, 國文歷史地理是我現在的弱點, 小時候我可是很不錯厲害的... 一定是班比經常嘲笑我的關係... 當我在夢裡提醒我自己現實是如何的時候, 我就醒了. 翻個身, 或許又睡著了, 卻可以重複惹人厭的夢, 不是在吵架就是在擔心. 然後鬧鐘響的時候, 覺得我一夜無眠, 腰酸脖子痛, 睡得好累.

禮拜五早上, 計畫送出去的那一刻, 我深切感覺到什麼叫做如釋重負. 我覺得我可以眼睛一閉就睡著. 實驗室經理說我應該要早點下班去輕鬆輕鬆. 但是因為寫這個研究計畫的關係,已經積了很多事情要處理, 尤其是耗時耗力不耗腦細胞的事情, 所以我留下來做完我該做的事. 沒想到四點鐘不到, 整個實驗是只剩下我一個人.
大家都要去過長周末囉. 以前我在賓州的時候, 總統節是沒有假可以放的, 紐澤西和紐約倒是有節就放, 這回剛好遇到中國年和情人節.
我興高采烈回家除舊佈新, 結果八點不到我就在床上昏倒了... 還自以為有精神可以去跳舞呢.

過年是什麼感覺?
上一回在台灣過年是 2002 年, 上一回很認真的在家過年是... 也是 2002 年. 因為很麻煩啊, 又不一定會遇到放假.
這次我有廚房我有客廳, 我還有廚子！買應景菜又算是方便, 於是就決定盛大的在大年初一辦個中國年 dinner party. 計畫是我們先盛大的買菜, 然後班比盛大的下廚, 我再盛大的洗碗.

班比在廚房站了一整天滷牛腱牛肚豬腳蘿菠, 我在客廳努力找周星馳賀歲片. 香噴噴的肉味加上周星馳的國語配音就好有過年的感覺.
在班比細細切菜的同時, 我準備了十六小時的國語歌曲(一半是王菲的), 還有九十張過年應景喜氣洋洋的照片要在電視螢幕上反覆的播放, 準備晚上視聽的背景.
六個客人, 美國德國和日本人都吃的開心笑得大聲, 於是班比的客家湯圓就沒有白費, 元寶年糕都有吃到, 我的客廳突然有了今年冬天少有的溫暖 (我客廳的暖氣可是很不暖啊).
不過我的酒量真的差, 一瓶 Sam Adams 啤酒, 和幾杯清酒, 我就紅通通站不直. 多虧班比懂事的妹妹和嘴賤心軟的阿雅, 不然我會洗碗洗到天亮.

今天禮拜二又下了大雪, 帥哥貼了王菲的新歌在我的牆上, 我心暖暖的.
或許我終於到了倦鳥的年紀, 要築自己的巢還真的不容易. 誰曉得明年的這個時候那些朋友還在不在身邊, 還在不在紐約.
我應該還是在寫研究計畫的申請案....

to travel to Mexico

As a person with a nationality that does not get her to travel to other nations easily, I have to apply for traveling visa almost every time I go somewhere.

So I went to the Mexico Office in Manhattan (Consulate General of Mexico in NY) on a Friday morning, 10 days before my trip to Acapulco, Mexico. The building on the 39th Street between Madison and Park looked cultural and quiet. I walked to the door which was locked with a sign written in Spanish. Is it a Mexican holiday? I thought. Then a person walked by and pointed to a side door and told me to go there. He simply walked by and saw me confused and offered me help with a smile. I thought, what a nice guy.
I entered the building through a glass door. The security gate was obviously not working, for random things were stacked between the gate and no one was standing by or walking through the gate. Therefore, I went on.
A person, who looked no more than 21 years old in a blue security uniform, stopped me and asked what I was going to do here. I told him my purpose, and he turned around, retrieving a number tag for me. There was a number typed on one side and another number hand-written on the other side. Before I said thankyou, he already started talking to another visitor, so I kept going.

The place was like a market, not a westernized supermarket, but a flee market or a what we Taiwanese called a traditional food market. People were everywhere. I did not see any sort of organization but I could feel an organization. I did not panic but I knew I needed to figure out what kind of organization was, and followed it.
A girl, who looked no more than 21 years old in a polo shirt with an ID tag, came to me and asked me what business I would like to do here. I told her, and she said "Go to the 3rd floor". I asked where the stairs were. She pointed the direction.

There were people standing or sitting on the way toward the stairs or on the stairs. I walked up one floor, and a young man in the security uniform was sitting on the mid-level through-way between floors. He saw me and smiled. He did not ask me questions.

On the third floor, rows of chairs filled the small space between cubicles and an office. A few people were waiting on the chairs. I tapped on one waiter's shoulder, "Are you waiting for the traveling visa application?" The Indian man said yes, "Just wait here, and she will come out and call your number." I sat down and wondered who "she" was.
Ten or fifteen minutes later, more people came to wait and asked whether they were in the right place. A young lady with a ponytail came out the office and called names. Another lady, middle aged, with a figure of a mother came out another room, which had an illuminated sign "EXIT" above the door, and called names too.
Now I was more ensured that things were moving forward, and soon my name would be called. But wait... how would they know my name? A person in the waiting line must have been wondering the same thing, and he went up to the office and asked. The answer was "I will call your number. Please wait."
So I waited. And according to the numbers being called later, I was sure it was the hand-written number on my tag would be called.

I was trying to read a student's paper. However, a couple of Taiwanese were talking near me, and my speech recognition system was automatically listening to them. The girl was 25, and the guy was in his early 30s. The guy worked in a software company, trading things with China. The girl had worked in a Japanese company in Japan, went back to Taiwan for some time, and now came to the US for learning English. However, her English sounded much better than the guy's. They exchanged information that I would classified as basic information as if this was their first date. I hoped not.
Slowly, I reviewed the most part of the paper, and the couple were finished up with their application and paperwork. They left. I was relieved that I could enjoy my quiet waiting time. Then a middle-aged man initiated conversation with me. He was a shoe maker from Brazil. I did not know that people from South America had to apply for travel visa to Mexico, and I did not realize that Mexico was in North America.
We chatted until number 11 was called. I immediately stood up and told the ponytail lady that my number was 10 and had not been called. She welcomed me to her office while number 11 was sitting there. Ponytail took all my paperwork and asked me to wait outside. She was polite and nice, so I was polite and nice and waited.

The mother lady came out too and asked my number, and I told her the situation. She went to Ponytail and took my things and asked me to the EXIT room, which was actually a nicer office with an entire wall of windows.
"Mother" reviewed my documents and decided that I was well prepared, and she suggested me to get a 10-year visa. "I have your bank statements, credit card bills, paycheck receipts, and your offer letter. Oh, do you want to make a copy of the offer letter and paycheck receipts? I think they are very personal and you should only give me a copy and you keep the original."

So I went downstairs to make copies. The place was still like a market. Men and women and children were everywhere. I waited in line for the copy machine and was proud of myself that I found some implicit order in this culture. Hey, there was no sign for the line of the machine. The lady operating the machine nicely asked me how I would like to make the copies. She did what I said, and I returned to the 3rd floor.
After handing in the document copies, my picture was taken and my finger prints were captured. I got a ten-year travel visa to Mexico.

On the day of the departure, everyone except me checked in via a machine by themselves. I could not do it because I am not American or holding a green card. So I waited in line for a person to come over and make sure that I had the visa. He went "When are you coming back to the US? They gave you ten years?" and laughed a bit.
Before I was allowed to get on to the plane, a person was looking at my passport and confused. She never saw a Mexico travel visa. So an older guy came and told her that I was alright and let me get on the plane.
When I arrived in Mexico, most people went through the customs point very easily with a nice and loud sound of stamping on their passports. I was stopped for 10 minutes because the officer did not know what to do with my travel visa. Two other officers came and helped her. She was smiling at me all the time when looking at me. It was the same humble warm smile that I had experienced again and again when I was helped to the entrance to the Consulate General of Mexico in NY.

I did not feel very bothered by the whole thing even though much time was spent in waiting.
Honestly, all the Mexicans involved in my trivial visa story were so nice. They treated me as a good-natured human being. They did not question me or my visa. They talked to each other in Spanish and smiled at me. They did not make me feel that I was waiting for an insult or a harassment. So I smiled back and was patient, and here I am in Acapulco, Mexico.

Cheers.

牛年最後一次月圓

才三天前，五點的下班時間天已經全黑了，加上連續好幾天接進冰點的低溫，我只想趕快飆回家。離開辦公室的時候，Priyanka 走進研究中心，她在趕一份研究經費的申請案，從醫學院下了課之後就來繼續工作。我跟她說別待太晚了。想當初我也是博士學生的時候，也是經常在實驗室裡度過所有醒著的時間，偶爾也有一些小睡的時間。

今天走出辦公室才五點十五，天上打下刺眼的光，一顆像是大號　pizza 的滿月掛在仰角約四十度的天空對著我笑。是因為我對著它笑，所以我覺得它在對我笑，我整個臉都是月光，微笑著的月光。它不像我家小月是介於鵝黃色和正黃色的，它是 2B 鉛筆的橘黃色。
天色一點都不黑呢，是寶藍色的，像我家幫幫的顏色，幫幫正停在停車場，越光打著他，像是掛在天上的畫布掉下來的顏料。
看的我臉都僵了，氣溫只有零下八度，我還是躲進幫幫裡。一路上大大圓圓的月亮跟著我回家。

住在緯度高的地方的好處是，可以感受每天白天長度的變化，換季時那一兩天的驚喜，然後提醒著我人就是如此藐小，在人生有限的時間裡太陽系的運轉幾乎是永恆不變。
我想要在不同的緯度體驗四季變化，我想要在不同的陸地測量月光的波長和認知的月色。我還有時間去看看永恆不變的運轉下造成的因時因地不同的週期變化。我還有時間，不能浪費了。

過去十年的努力，我到了這裡。我很慶幸我努力了，所以現在的路比較好走不是僥倖。我要用下一個十年來做些新的事情，不需要再過著博士學生或是博士後研究員的生活了。月色如此美。

keep breathing

My uncle, the younger one from my mom's side (xiao jiu jiu), has been staying in a hospital for about two weeks. He could not breathe on his own. Somehow his lungs are failing him.

I could not imagine how he looks like now. I never saw him lying down on his back.
He has polio. His spine is like a 3D spiral, pushing his organs into positions quite abnormal. He has big hands and a big head. He always said that he would be a tall guy if his spine could have been straightened and if he could stand up. He is a lefty because he cannot control any muscle in his right hand. When I was little, I saw him crawling on the floor, and watched relatives carrying him upstairs. He operated his powered wheelchair on a modified motor vehicle. He drove it as far as he could go. He would love to see the world.
He loves talking to people and listening to people. He is a fortune teller. Did he know that this is his bad year? He always said the end of a year (Chinese lunar calendar year) was the worst time for bad luck: everyone was trying to get pass through the year gate. I wish he will be back home before the year Tiger.

I had liked to talk to him before I decided to study cognitive psychology. To explain cognitive psychology to a fortune teller is not easy. For the sake of convenience, I told him I wanted to study the brain. He got very excited and wished I could eventually find a way for him to transplant his entire central nervous system to a healthy walking body. (I guess he has not had time to see the movie "Avatar"... I do not think he ever went to a movie theater at all.)
It was harsh for me to tell him that I didn't think transplanting an entire CNS was possible in my life time. For me, to dream with him is a cruel reality check that he is never able to have a straight spine, to stand up or to walk.
I also did not ask about my fortune when talking to him. He and I gradually could not find a topic interesting both of us, and things of life kept happening, and we've been separated to two very different worlds.

He became a father. Who knew he would get such a great wife and build a family?
I became me. Who knew I would be an English speaker for 90% of my daily functions?
But he is not just a relative living remotely away from me. He is a family. Mama taught him how to read and write. He respects her and loves her kids. When I heard he had hard time absorbing oxygen, I felt so helpless and useless. I wish I could be there for Mama, who must have been so distressed. I wish I could be there for xiao jiu jiu's wife, who must have been so pretending she was alright.
Mama just told me that a device was placed in his lungs and hopefully it will work. I really hope so. I really hope it will work for a long time.

小月的旅程

民國九十一年... 大概只有台灣人知道民國是什麼玩意，我已經不知道現在是民國哪一年了，總之民國九十一年是我用西元年的開始，那年2002 八月十三，小月在我的隨身行李裡跟著我飛到了美國賓州。





2007 五月，小月跟我搬到紐澤西。有多明尼加來的小月神陪她坐在一起。

2009 年底，她離開我去歐洲旅行：

小月歐洲行

2010 lists

I feel quite content these days and actually have not as many wishes as previous years. Alternatively, I found many things hopeless, which will not improve with wishes.
However, hopes make life more beautiful. Wishes make dreams more romantic.
Here is my wish-to-do list for 2010. Let's make some high expectations and work hard to meet them!

1. Travel to Japan, Spain, Iceland, New Zealand, or Argentina.

2. Get ten articles published, peer-reviewed or not.

3. Get five research projects funded, federal or not.

4. Learn a new skill, physical or mental.

5. Be more earth-friendly.

6. Participate in an organization or society unrelated to my profession.

7. Accomplish all of the above....

Alright, I was staring at number 7 and could not think of anything else that is more doable than a simple wish...
Next I am going to generate the wish list with items that I will have less control but much hope for their occurrence.

1. Mama and Superstar get healthier and happier.

2. Kim and Chris, Zabeth and Stefan have babies.

3. I get a window and another book shelf in my office.

4. My brother Yu gets his business growing and profiting.

5. Alex finds the job, and all my friends on the job market too.

6. Fewer people spit or litter in the New York subway.

7. All of the above come true.

The year has began. Welcome, 2010. Hope to do my best. Wish for the best.