Sometimes, I want to get a hole and push someone into it. However, life is not perfect. My life, in particular, can be difficult. I am not going to complain about certain managers who thought they were leaders but actually they are simply managers because of their positions. I am not going to talk about recent events that made me frustrated about certain situations where I believe things could have turned out more enjoyable if those managers were actually behaving like real leaders. You know what? I am going to keep thinking about spatial neglect, and neglect their existence for four days when I am in Boston meeting my old colleagues, chatting about science.
On the other hand, my life is not the worst kind. Even though not much exciting news happens, the fact that I can sleep for 8 hours everyday is pretty nice. Physicians get up super early and work for long hours. Long commuters get up super early and spend long hours in transportation. Mothers with young babies get up super early and sleep occasionally. I fall asleep when Superstar talks to me. I sleep well even when the next-door night club turns up the bass until 2am. Oh, I should stop playing "Max Injury" game on iTouch. I should have my 8 hours. My eyes will close, and I am in a black hole, hiding from things that make my life difficult.
Please simply enjoy the image and the amazing skill of two hands on a plate of sand. The artist's first writing was "Taipei Zoo" in Chinese. The last writing was movingly breathtaking. It was "Taiwan", contoured with the shape of the Taiwan island.
I realized how much I love Taiwan during the first month of my moving to the US. Over the years, I have loved it even more because of its goodness and badness. Every time I went back, I had wonderful trips to various countrysides, where the natural views are unique and unbeatable, or the local people show how diverse our populations are within this 13,972 sq mi land (23,100,000 people). I may not get my favorite steak, pancake, Korean food, beer, or baklava there, but the quality and quantity of Taiwan fruits and tea and snacks and night markets can only be won over by the even improved Taiwan in a near future.
The mission of living away from Taiwan is to tell the world how wonderful Taiwan is. It is wonderful as a group of people, as an entity of political democracy, as a congregation of warm hearts, and as my home country. Of course, each country has its own shits that never end and never can be entirely dissolved. It's like humans that can never be perfect but the nature is good. Many, including me, have complained Taiwanese tend to use the heart than the brain to deal with everything. However, because of the heart, Taiwan runs on systems of benevolence, great for average well-behaviored residents and visitors.
Welcome to Taiwan, if you go. Taipei is especially English friendly. As to other places, everyone will be friendly to you.
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:
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.)
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.
I don't know you But I want you All the more for that Words fall through me And always fool me And I can't react And games that never amount To more than they're meant Will play themselves out
Take this sinking boat and point it home We've still got time Raise your hopeful voice you have a choice You've made it now
Falling slowly, eyes that know me And I can't go back Moods that take me and erase me And I'm painted black You have suffered enough And warred with yourself It's time that you won
Take this sinking boat and point it home We've still got time Raise your hopeful voice you had a choice You've made it now
Take this sinking boat and point it home We've still got time Raise your hopeful voice you had a choice You've made it now Falling slowly sing your melody I'll sing along
Once upon a time, I gave a gift to a man who I thought was my first love. The gift was a jigsaw puzzle game featuring a man who was going to dive into a jar labeled "love". The puzzle pieces were stored in a jar actually, and I thought giving a jar of love was a very lovely idea. My first ever boyfriend looked at the gift and looked puzzled. He said "Why do I want to fall into it?" "Because I am in it." I childlikely made a response. "In what?" He matter-of-fact-ly had no idea.
Since then, I have had no luck in picking a gift for my boyfriends. Every time when I spent days and nights and dreams making a decision on a gift idea, I failed. Picking a gift is a terrifying test for me and my partner. If he does not like it, it means that I don't know what he likes, suggesting that I don't know what he wants, implying that I don't know who he is or that he doesn't know who I am either. Therefore, receiving a gift is also terrifying. The same man who didn't understand the metaphor of diving into love gave me a horrible gift: a plastic/velcro wallet with Mickey Mouse on it. Although he got the color right (of course the classy color blue), I never took a second look at it. Worse, he sang me my favorite song at that time. I just cannot stand anyone dedicating a song to me by singing it to me, way way more destructive than romantic. It's the effect of pink. Even worse, he taped it. I couldn't finish playing it. "How do you like the gifts?" He asked. "You are very sweet." was all I could say. I did not fall in love with him.
English cleverly distinguishes the verb "love" and the verb phrase "fall in love", and I love this distinction. It enriches my thinking about romantic love. Last year, Harry Reis and Arthor Aron published a peer-reviewed article "Love: What is it, why does it matter, and how does it operate?" to summarize how philosophers and psychologists have scientifically studied this subject in the journal called Perspectives on Psychological Science. (You may google Harry Reis, Univ of Rochester for requesting the article.) They defined romantic love "as a desire to enter, maintain, or expand a close, connected, and ongoing relationship with another person or other entity, and we limit our discussion to this variety of love. By entity, we refer to specific targets (in addition to humans) such as pets, fictional characters, or even deities.We limit our focus here to love as it is experienced between adults in relationship contexts, excluding such examples as nonspecific compassionate love (e.g., love of humanity), love of inanimate objects (e.g., ice cream), and arelational lust (e.g., sexual arousal outside of relationship contexts)."
The first three words of the quotation is "as a desire". This desire makes me want to please him even though I am afraid that the possibility of making him pleased is not high. This desire makes me try and try again. Jason gave me the soundtrack of Once before I watched it or even knew about it. I rented the movie for allowing myself to listen to the soundtrack. Call me principle-sticker if you like. The guy in the movie reminded me of the sunny boy I met two summers ago, especially the way how they said "cool" or "brilliant". Like the movie, the meeting with the sunny boy was like a series of music but nothing meaningful enough to touch my core. The story was too simple and the emotion was too light and the characters were too shallow. The entire thing was like a long music video. Music was good though. But for love, music is not enough. I agree with the award givers on the quality of the songs of Once. I agree with Jason on the song Falling Slowly. "You have suffered enough and warred with yourself. It's time that you won... Falling slowly sing your melody. I'll sing along." After listening to it many times, I got it and replayed it more times. Music is a weird thing. Did people sing before starting to speak? Words may mean nothing if nothing personally grand is expressed. Words may not have much impact until they become lyrics with singable melody. Can someone offer me a melody for the following? I will sing. No one can dedicate a song to me by singing to me but definitely welcome by singing with me. Here it goes...
Hey Superstar, I am falling. Hopefully into an ocean, not a jar. Hopefully the puzzle is not a complicated game, but full of clues everywhere for us to pull pieces together before time is over. Let's fall so that we can rise together.
People I know in Astronomy or Theoretical Physics are not nerds, but fun fun geeks to hang out with. For example, Nino. I love Nino. Perhaps because he is a terrific salsa/merengue/bachata dancer who happens to be an Italian learning how to tango. Also because he is so sincere when talking about his life and work with a flavor of humor. Another friend F, who I believe is doing his third postdoc somewhere in North America, was a theoretical physicist sometimes thinking about the universe of an atom under a maple tree. I stopped by the tree once with an apple. The apple was just a random after-lunch choice on that particular day. F and I talked about visuospatial attention because he was open-minded to think about anything. Certainly we kept on talking about information processing and whatever attractions between particles. I don't think we understood each other's study better but our brains worked during that chat. Thinking makes me happy. I don't remember when and where I first met F, probably in the Euro Club, not on a dance floor. F was a salsa maniac, like tango maniacs, traveling everywhere for salsa festivals. A nice companion to have decent witty conversations and also an enthusiastic dancer. I don't find many of this human kind in hard-core Social Science.
At my early age looking for what I like to do, I liked to study astronomy when everyone was crazy about astrology. I prefered physics than chemistry. I am glad that I didn't pick astronomy or astrophysics as my thing. It is fascinating to see the results of this research, but being a researcher in the hard science field would have definitely killed me. How many years of postdocs? If a neuro-cognitive psychologists have to do 2 to 3 terms of postdocs (meaning 3 to 6 years), how many do a scientist in hard science do? Not everyone can find something new and exciting in the sky. Not everyone can be a successful theorist in physics.
Does it really matter to me if the sun is going to die in billions of years? Does it really affect my understanding of my universe if Pluto is not a planet? Does it really impact my philosophy of life if any form of living creatures is found in other solar systems? No, my mind is pretty narrowed. Unlike astronomers who see deep and wide, I do not extend my cognitive system beyond the zones where animals breathe effortlessly. Judge my shallowness? Go ahead.
Last night I watched the following clip. I was like... Good job, Doctor! Keep it going! Keep it exciting! oh I wanted to meet this guy. I hope he could dance too.
He was nervous. He should. The most influential country is following him to a new chapter of history. Greatest? I won't use this word to describe the United States because I think Taiwan is as great as the US. The most influential the US is. When it sneezes, other countries get fevers. When it smiles, other countries dance.
It is something of being a witness here to see how this big system running. It was a powerful show at noon when two million people were gathering in D.C., when people in all cities of the US were gathering in front of TVs, and when I and all the other co-workers were gathering in the cafeteria to watch President Obama give his speech. The speech was reassuring and inspiring. Audiences everywhere were taking pictures, clapping hands, and wiping tears. Every thing seems so hopeful now as if the unemployed would get a decently paid job immediately, as if the poor would afford their medical bills right now, as if the Americans would stop wasting energy at this moment, and as if all peoples would actually equally treated in everyway.
God was mentioned too many times in the inauguration. I could not believe how much religion plays a role in an average American heart. Why can't you have faith in yourselves, Americans? You can change. You can better the system. You can bring a brighter tomorrow. You can alter your international image. You can make the world a better place. Yes, you can. Even if you believe that you don't think you can without believing in God, you can still believe in yourself in addition to God. You need to separate the State from the Church. Obama is the President who will lead the country in the direction that most people expect to go, but he is not a prophet who passes down some messages from God. You have to challenge Obama when he does not keep his promises and responsibilities. He is a hero and a human too. You can believe in a human. You have to believe in Obama because you believe in democracy and because you have given him a great power to do good things. Since decades or even centuries ago, scholars, thinkers, entrepreneurs, and hard workers from the other countries have come to the US and keep coming to provide their mind power or labor, which may be the reason why the US leads in various fields such as science, art, technology, etc. Why are these people staying in the US but not returning to their home countries? One of the reasons must be that they believe in themselves and the spirit of the US.
I am not an athesist. Even if I had a religious label on me, mentioning God all the time does not make me more religious or inspired. Please believe in Obama. Please follow his lead to make changes in the US. People, do not simply expect or watch him to do something. You should be an activist. You believe and you act. Mr. President, please take the nation to a pleasantly exciting new chapter. Get to work.
I gave EK a box of chocolate for giving him some sensation of happiness. It is not a good season of getting fired. The job markert is as freezing as the weather. I was trying to offer some warmth. He smiled a little and opened up for me. I wish I could have known him more. He was always nice and humorous. I wish his unemployment will not last long. I wish he believes in himself. Perhaps his new chapter leads to new directions of happiness. If Obama represents a hope worth believing in, let's all hope, making happy wishes today. Let's all hope the wishes will come true in the near future. I gave my wish to EK. Good luck.
I don't know who Susanne Manning is but I googled for minutes and finally found this sexy sandy voice for my favorite Xmas song.
Let me give you two more examples of Santa Baby, and you tell me if you agree with me on Susanne Manning's voice. Oh yeah, Kylie Minogue was physically very sexy.
This one was from 1988 (wow, 20 years ago): This woman is a category by herself.
Last night was the annual holiday party of the research center. I had been to the holiday party last year and bored. This year I still went because at first it was some political reason. Once I got there, I was very happy that I went and stayed almost till the end. It was the same fancy country-club-style restaurant, the same delicious food, the same tree where we had to pose for picture taking. More than twice of people showed up. My lab actually occupied the entire 10-person table. For a party, more people more fun. Moreover, there was a vocal quartet! Two pairs of man and woman with matching red and green 19th-century outfits. They were so cute. Their voice was so good and warm. The carols they sang were so lovely and joyful. I could not help but smile all the time. They hopped table to table and sang various carols on demand. I wish I knew more than a few carols!
Around 7:30pm (the party started at 5 pm), most people had left. This was about the time when the singers were more comfortable with themselves and started playing around with people and singing in a more modern jazzy way. They went up to the stage and I said I wanted santa baby. So they did. That was one of the best live performances I have ever seen this year. The green gal sang the main melody with R&B-kind of feel. The green guy went for the bass with a warm santa granda's hohoho. The red gal provided a higher pitch tangled with the melody. The red guy was sometimes humming like an instrument and sometimes singing along to harmonize the entire group. Snow was perfectly sprinkled outside the window. San.ta. ba.by~
Let me share one more. Stay tuned. I probably will post one entry a day because I am so happy and would like you to be happy too.
Isn't he cute? He called his mama Col-ber-t. Not Col-bear :)
Hey, Mama, one day if I am as famous and as successful as Stephen Colbert, I will sing you a song on TV too.
*****
I met Yardena's "good friend". Muhammad came to the hospital for seeing "this lovely young lady". Why? Because Yardena had to go home before sunset and does not come out until the sunrise of Sunday. She is very orthodox. She follows everything in the Jewish religion and backs up everything beneficial (even just superficially beneficial) to Israel.... indicating she voted to ..... Despite the differences we have in religion and politics, I like her. She is a wonderful co-worker. She is funny. She doesn't mind people questioning her faith or daily routines. She is very likable and has a deep sexy sandy voice. She is super patient with patients. She cares. She works two jobs, both related to the medical business: here in my lab working with stroke patients, and she drives ambulance every other night. She also volunteers for something related to charity. The volunteering work made it happen. It being her meeting Muhammad. As his name suggests, he is a Muslim. Muhammad is a handsome hot young guy. I would've stared at him if Yardena was not at the table. However, Muhammad's eyes were full of Yardena. Soooo obviously in love with her. Yardena is obviously very fond of him as well. They held hands sometimes. They made fun of each other. They were arranging a horse-riding lab field trip for us. I wish I could stay here this weekend. They were almost to decide to go this weekend, but they decided not to because of my absence. They were just so cute. It will feel heartbreaking if they can't be together because of their religious conflict. Why? You are in a religiously free country (well..... actually not as free as I had expected). Those rules are ancient and distant and remote and unnecessary to your current lives. I wish you at least kissed each other if not further. "Oh, dance is not your people's thing." Muhammad said to Yardena, and she said something to fight back but kept her hand in his hand. Oh~
It is hard to be the second generation of immegrants from an extremely conservative country. Parents are still bathed in the previous thoughts and traditional values, and forget to integrate with the spirits of being American, or do not allow their children to differ. Oh, well, what can I say? I am glad that I am so selfish, and no one is qualified to determine who I should be with.
*****
I was very productive today. Unbelievably finished something I thought I would not have done until the end of my trip back from Chicago. This week has been great. Two grants out of my desk. Blue rules the States. One manuscript and one new idea. Liu talked me to sleep. No snow. The whole frontyard covered with golden leaves. The whole backyard covered with bright red leaves. Flu virus failed staying in my throat. I ... am cautious. Things can't go so well. There must be something horrible about to occur. "Do you often worry about the future?" This is one of the depression questionaire. Sometimes I do worry because I am a person who often twists my ankle walking on a perfect flat ground. Anything can happen to me. Anything did happen to me. Chicago is going to snow tomorrow according to the weather forecast. My plane may be delayed. I may be stuck in the airport. Well... if it happens, it is something ordinary in the States anyway, so I don't worry about it. I am quite experienced with delayed air flights. So I turned up the music and dance to it. So I am dancing and not worrying.
The longest winter in my life started on October 28th, 2002. It lasted for 6 months.
Coming from a city where snow is not possible, I was surprised by the first glance of my first snow storm. Pennsylvanians told me that I was lucky to meet an early snow fall. Six months later, they told me that I was unlucky to be in a white world for so long.
On February 17th, 2003, as if clouds had all fallen onto the ground, everything was covered, and the sky was so blue and clear. Nothing could be recognized easily. Curbs and roads were not differentiable. Cars all looked the same. An original 5-minute walk took me 30 minutes. My whole leg was drowned in the snow. I was sweating badly in my jacket even though my mouth was smoking. I was in a high spirit. I forgot to have home-sickness. I could have hot chocolate day and night with this great excuse. I realized that I was a tiny tiny unimportant element, soon could be the same as the rest of the world - white. Nothing had been so overwhelming. I felt like a new person.
Friends are for building memories together. Old friends are for sharing experience in the same situation. Where were you during the earthquake? What were you doing before the blackout? How did you get your car out on Feb 17 of 03? My old friends in hometown can never answer the last question. My life has separated from theirs. I took a different route, no turning back. They would not understand how water crystallized on my eyelashes. Some crystals were tears of excitement of growing up and being independent.
The above paragraphs were originally posted on Helium.com with a pen name.
Now the reason I dug them out and posted here is because exactly 6 years later on the same day -- Oct 28 -- I experienced the first snow storm of the year.
Damn.
I was seriously cursing as driving through the storm and stuck in the storm. You may have already learned my stories of driving in snow and understood how much I hate it.
Fall is the best season for driving in Chester. Classy colors such as golden, red, yellow are so pure and so proudly display everywhere.
Today they were everywhere including snow, which made the driving even trickier than simply (which is so not simple) driving in snow. Fallen leaves mixed with dirty wet snow created a horrible condition on the road. Even though the view was unbelievably full of oil-painting colors, being a bug driver suddenly could not appreciate the nature more than worry about my own safety.
Bungbung has been through a lot. As if he was a hummer rather than a beetle.
Just after he mysteriously recovered from lock dysfunction, he was playing snow yet again. No one was prepared to meet snow before they left their houses. Beautiful maple trees were still holding their colorful leaves. Snow suddenly came. The roads were covered with thick white dirt, scaring some drivers off road. Trees couldn't endure the burden and fell, blocking the already heavily messy traffic.
Bungbung's smile went cold.
So I made a decision that I should've done before Paola and I called for help, which did help us spiritually but not practically. We safely got out of the storm in three hours and went back to south (several towns away) to work at our desks (doesn't sound more fun than being stuck in snow).
I was a bit grumpy but not too grumpy. All I did was taking today's experience as a good chance to meet Ms. Solo who has a severe neglect disorder and frontal symptoms. Talking to her challenged my English because she somehow appeared understanding but could not follow any command as simple as "draw a vertical line" while she was totally cooperative and energetic and never frustrated failing almost all paper/pencil tasks. An amazing case.
Then I remembered what Paola had asked me just last week.
"Does it snow here?"
"Yes."
"Cool. I like snow."
"I like it too. But I am not going to drive to work in snow."
"Really? That bad?"
"Yes."
"So how can I drive to see patients?"
"You can't."
"We don't see patients in winter?"
"We write papers in winter."
It was Paola's first time driving in snow today. I bet she got a closer interpretation of our previous conversation.
Bungbung will not be a hummer. See how ridiculous they are:
Went around the globe. Found myself sinking into the same kind of simplicity. As simple as that.
She was worried that I sank into something out of my kind. She was wrong. Because there actually is one thing shared by all the guys I've fallen for: the opposite of a father figure. She doesn't know me. It is okay. I don't know her, either. Our friendship is like the relationship between a mailbox and a fruit stand.
He was worried that I would not have a happy marriage. Which was quite a prediction out of his little knowledge about my personal life. Well, brother, don't you think both of us should be on the marriage-track before exchanging opinions on this issue? And I do wish he will have a happy marriage if he eventually goes into one. I have to say that I am touched that he was worried. He doesn't know me. It is okay. I don't know him, either. The fact that we are still connected is because we deeply love our mom.
People start worrying about me because of my history, I guess. I am not flowing with expectation, am I? But I never think how I should flow. I just flow with my feelings and roll the way I feel like to, even though over the years, I have tried to use more cortical than subcortical part of my brain. You know, as a woman ages, she tends to think ahead a lot and hesitates a great deal for all possible reasons.
I have liked you since I stood on your bike. Happy birthday, Liu.
Why do I share this video with you? Because TED always introduces the contemporary best thinkers, and Philip Zimbardo is one of the greatest thinkers. After serving as an expert witness during the Abu Ghraib trials, he wrote The Lucifer Effect: Understanding How Good People Turn Evil. He showed some disturbing Abu Ghraib pictures in this talk and provided his theory on why American soldiers and any ordinary people would do such things to other human beings. He also showed some precious clips of his controversial Stanford Prison Experiment (shortened for SPE in his presentation).
This 23-min video is worth watching, and there is a personal highlight at about the 20th minute when the audience broke the depressing air and laughed. Here is a Chinese saying: do a good thing a day, and the good thing I do today is to spread Dr. Zimbardo's talk on being a hero. He himself is a hero.
Just about the time I was going to stop following American politics, Sarah Palin was added on the Republican ticket. Yes, she is beautiful. Beauty is an extra bonus point for a successful, intelligent, educated, witty person, especially a woman. People would like to see her for one more second beyond the first impression, to try to understand her more, to try to listen to her, and to try to accept what she's trying to sell.
But Palin's only strength is beauty. This obviously is not enough for being the Vice President. And I don't know why half of Americans don't see it obvious. She cannot even understand a question when being interviewed on TV. No blink to terrorism? This is the answer to how you're going to deal with the problem? She must be living in the well, looking up at the sky light and thinking that's the actual size of the sky. Tina Fey looks exactly like Sarah Palin! Beautiful as well. Somehow I believe Fey is more qualified than Palin to the candidate. Hey, children need someone to look up to. Perhaps Republicans think adding her on the ticket would encourage female voters to back GOP. I think it only encourages men to do so: What a beautiful woman, waiting behind the President! Let's get her on board so that I can see her face more often for the next four years. Oh, see how old McCain is. Palin may be the President in two years! We Americans will have the most beautiful president in the world.
Women, on the other hand, would just totally be turned off. To convince a woman that the other woman is better than herself is not by showing a beautiful face. No way. She will only be jealous and try her best to ruin the pretty face. Palin is so conservative that her mind stays with her grandma's generation, and that her religious belief is way more shocking than GW Bush's. Matt Damon questioned whether Palin denies the existence of dinasours. He doesn't want his children to grow up and be taught in school that God only created human kinds, and that species before humans were fiction.
Is she really that naive or ignorant? Or she pretends so? (A lot people think GW Bush is pretending.) McCain picked her for the purpose of making himself look more sane? Anyway, she cannot be a leader. America deserves someone much better than her. The so-called "Leader of the Free World" deserves someone much better than her.
By the way, I was chatting with a patient. He said America is not free; it is soooo expensive for people who are ill and need treatment. He said he has paid a lot of money to the insurance company and the government, and guess what, his treatment is not covered. What? he asked, I paid for being covered, for being able to get sick even if I don't want to. It's not a free country! It's a ridiculous country where the government doesn't take care of the people. I just nodded and patted his arm. Well, I hope he get better, go home, and vote in Novemeber.
I was greatly immersed in the so-call street dance culture. I was a groupie for a dancing group called Popcorn. The leader Kala was the guy who attracted me everywhere they performed. Of course, there were other reasons such as another group called ELSE and one particular member of that group, but that's not what I want to talk about here.
Every time I tango, different partners have the same question for me: Do you do other kinds of dance? No. Well... I sort of tried Swing for two days and danced Salsa for a year before devoting myself to Tango, but the feeling, the feeling of dance 舞感, which is what the street-dancers liked to say all the time when I was there chasing their shows, had been developing before I started my career of dance. I didn't like to move my body because everyone around me was so good. They were part of the music. When they popped, did the breaking, showed a wave, dissociated one body part from another, or just simply raised an eyebrow, I felt an unnecessary existence of me. I felt alone on a crowded dance floor. But I never left.
I was watching and enjoying as much as I could and watching and watching. And my brain was washed. In a feeling-of-dance way. I bet my mirror neurons were highly activated when I watched all the dancers around me. Mirror neurons were first found in monkeys. Basically when a money sees another money wave hands, the waving-hand brain area is activated in the viewer even though it does not actually wave its hand. In other words, there is a group of brain cells mimicking or mirroring movements from others. There are other studies showing that people who imagine practicing a simple note on piano can actually do it as well as people who physically practice the same note. Imagination can serve a great rehearsal for actual bodily performance. Therefore, my point is that I had been trained mentally (or imaginarily, pseudo-physically, everything-in-the-head-ly) how to move my body before I explicitly expressed how well I could move my body.
So I imagine I can be as strong as a gymnast and as flexible as an experienced yogi and as rhythm-sensitive as the popper in the video. And... I imagine I could integrate all the above into my tango. Things in my head are not necessarily eventually illusions. This is called faith. I know I totally brag too far away from the popper video, but you know my point.
Inhale. During next exhale, move toward the final perfect posture. It's all about the breathe. Listen to its rhythm and pop. Pop like you mean it. Pop like doing a milonga instead of a vals.
I am trying to share the golden moments of Chinese gymnastics I was curious about the name of Yang Wei. I hoped his name did not actually sound the way as the English-speakers call his name. Good. It does not. Please practice the four tones of Chinese language, reporters. His name is Yang2 Wei1, instead of Yang2 Wei3.
Li Xiaopeng flying on the parallel bars was the most breathtaking moment for me.
Also, below the NBC widget is the video showing that the awesome golden men gracefully expressed the beauty of human body and strength. Seeing some lean yogi do the same kind of the postures is totally different than this particular performance, which is unbelievably powerful to the heart and unexpectedly peaceful. And I feel better after this crazily long restless day. I should wake up in 6 hours and start a new crazily long restless day again. Let's go to bed and in my head rewind today's Diving competition -- women's synchronized platform -- where the Chinese girls were not like a seamless pair but they were simply one. The ultimately romantic perfect one.
Exclusive Summer Olympics news & widgets at NBC Olympics.com!
Tired of fake news? (If it's reported by Colbert, the answer is no.) Try a fake love game. Or a love game in truthiness (the famous word created in this very Colbert Report and added into dictionaries as the word of the year). Fake or truthiness is all relative.
Why did Colbert pick her instead of the other two? Because she was on a blue chair :)
See his face prior to announcing the choice? Oh... how annoying and what a great comedian.
Last night, when my head was aching like hell, a sound of thunder threw a bolt into my head.
Lightnings are amazing, but they are my favorite stuff in nature. My worse memory of them is when I drove from Chicago to Iowa City. Oh my..
I was like, FINE. I turned off the computer and tried to find peace in the Child Pose. Another thunder hit the air, loudly enough to deafen poor squirrels to death. Most traumatically, I could not find peace in yoga. According to my experience and belief, my illness came from the fact that I did not have coffee all day yesterday.
Therefore, the best way to get over it is to follow the steps: Sleep for 10 hours. Have coffee right after a wakening shower. Focus on exciting things --- such as looking for a job.
Done. Headache is gone. And Liu sent me a link, through which I don't find comfort. Why do I want to kiss the rain? Or squeeze a blue-heart-shaped balloon to explosion? Destructive traits are not in my blood. Instead, last night reminds me of a song I listened a loooooot when I was in university. I basically ruined the CD because of listening to it too much. I liked all the songs except for "Angeline" in that album called "I'm OK." Anyway, here it is:
I am learning Jersey from the Sopranos from the library. I borrowed the DVDs from the public library. Why isn't there any Sex and the City in the library? Because it's about Manhattan, not Jersey? I don't know.
For a year, I watched the whole thing -- 6 seasons. Well... my favorite remains Sex and the City, because I'm a city girl, not a Jersey one :) Nonetheless, I do like the Sopranos. You will like this video if you're a fan too.
I was buried in medical records, stored in Jenny's office. Jenny is our research coordinator. She started the job in February but is still learning what is what and where is where and what to do and where to go. I started my job last July. I am not better than her. I am learning a whole new different thing than basic research. In some sense, I am still doing research but not in visual cognition. I am doing research of finding mysteriously lost medical records or experiment data. Many times, I complain about it and miss the purer research environment of a university. Now I have a different attitude. I am watching a live show of soap opera. It can be quite amusing sometimes.
I was buried in medical records in Jenny's office. Jenny and Cristin were discussing about whatever they were discussing about. Noise from next door came through the wall, a piece of thin wood. It sounded like people were arguing loudly over there. Cristin said she couldn't believe how much drama was going on in that lab. People of that lab would talk behind people about not getting email invitation of some casual social gathering. Patty things like that. I nodded and said in my head "Oh, you think there's no drama in this lab? Because you come to the lab only one day a week. Because gossips never go to your ears." I am a listener. I am very good at it. No matter where I go. No matter whom I meet. No matter Chinese or English, people talk and I listen and I ask questions allowing them to talk more. Or I nod. Probably that's why I can be a good follower in tango. I listen and adjust myself and keep the dance going unless the leader is really annoying. Annoying example number one is my so-called "typical" American girls. Even though I categorize them as "typical", I have not met many of them. Probably it is because not many "typical" American girls go to a graduate school or dance tango. There were two in my lab. Now one. Lucky me, the remained one is the one I can endure better. This one... I wish I could just put a pillow on her face when she's talking. She is the generation of strawberry -- has no strength to absorb pressure while keeping a good shape of niceness. If Cristin had listened to Miss Strawberry, she would've not said our lab was so harmonious. If she had listened to Kim, Millie, Kristen, Jenny, and me about Dr. Anna, she would've called our lab a drama club.
I like Cristin a lot. She is so capable and available. Even though she is a medical doctor and her research title is a level above mine -- she is a part-time research scientist and I'm a full-time postdoc research fellow -- she assists me like a super research assistant. Her specialty is to solve my problems related to hospitals and medical records. I have complimented her directly and she agreed! She likes to solve problems and likes the feeling of accomplishment. Me too. So I like her and like to throw her with problems. Cristin is a great co-worker. Within a snap, things are done. Trouble shooters are so precious. Don't you leave me, Cristin.
I can feel the difficulty of running a lab. Research assistants usually leave after a while. They don't get a sense of responsibility as much as the limited work hours allow them to. Research coordinators or secretaries don't come from a science background. People have different personalities. Girls are not as straight-forward as boys, and our lab is a female lab. Sometimes I just can't see through everyone's mask. Sometimes I think I am wearing a mask so that I think everyone has a mask on. This is probably why I feel soooo tired everyday. I miss Toby for I could just walk into his office and say whatever on my mind. I cannot do the same now here.
Jerry apologized to me for his rude email wordings. I was actually not offended at all. I like it when we quickly exchange email back and forth without the greetings at the beginning and abundant thankyou at the end. I prefer working with boys or people who just snap and work things out. That's why I like Cristin. However, boys are not always my favorite. This boy assistant working for me has created more work for me. See? It's not easy to categorize people based on gender.
The last thing I want to murmur about is why medical records are sent via regular mail! This really bothers me. What if the record is lost in mail? No way to track it. And the reply I got is "Send the request again. We will send again." So they simply allow lost medical records flowing around in the mail dimension. Trust me. I still don't know what happened to the second check I mailed to VW.
Let me call it a day for now. Don't take any negative energy I put here. Watch the video below and smile and good dreams to you :)
Go green one thing at a time. I started trying it out several months ago. I like how the handle was designed, greatly fitting the human factor. And the brush is very soft, so far my favorite. After 3 months (which is a normal life span of any toothbrush), I mailed the brush back (without paying postage) for recycling. The product itself is good and the recycling part of the product, which is the whole thing including the packaging, for me is an extra bonus psychologically.
A new food market has just opened three blocks away from me. It means that I don't have to drive to lovely Whole Foods to get organic food anymore. I like stores in walking distance. I know, I should just move into the city. The waiting time should not be long. The matter is just which city, not just the city, will welcome me.
Tunnel fees have gone up from $6 to 8. Gas price has been soaring too. These facts block me from driving into the city. At least before my salary is higher than a postdoc typically earns, the train will be my feet to the greener side of the river, where people like to walk, where people care more about the environment and health.
Doing something good to the environment, even if the something is tiny, makes me feel good. It is like the other day, my yoga practice improved a tiny little step (which only I would notice), which made me feel very good. Or like tango, I was led to do something very nicely to a milonga melody, which made my body smile. So for the psychological element -- feeling good --, I will keep doing something good to the earth. I know, now it sounds like some selfish behavior. So? I am selfish. I like to be happy. I like anything that makes me happy.
