心念到處轉

年初在台北的房間裡尋找一樣大概忽然出現在夢裡的東西：小時候我自己刻的藏書印。
大概找了十分鐘我就放棄了，大概是以為我還在作夢，大概不太確定那東西可以存活那麼久。

最近搬家整理著兩年前搬離賓州就應該要整理的箱子們，我看到了那個我很久以前拿來裝藏書印的零錢包，自己跟自己微笑道［原來你一直在我身邊啊］，也沒立刻打開，反正就是安心的確定了它的存在，它不會跑掉就在那邊等我去看看罷了，不需要急著去摸它一下。就像是我總是在科技大樓搭捷運，但是我沒去過科技大樓，反正要去總是隨時可以去啊，然後我就離開台北，每年回台北也沒想要去，反正要去總是每年都可以去啊。

過了兩個禮拜長日短眠的炎夏搬家適應新環境的身心寰宇大掃除，好不容易兩天前我可以閒閒沒有雜念的窩在新新的書茶小角落，翹著腳吹風曬太陽看書，心念一轉又想寫東西。
每年總是有幾個這樣的心念一轉，然後我就會開啟那堆了十幾個都是只有四五頁開頭的故事，然後可能再加一個文字檔，可能心念又轉走了，寫作之路又繼續無限延期。這回呢，我想如果我把形式都搞定，說不定我可以認真的看待這個寫作夢。

曾經我有個英文筆名 december，那麼中文筆名也來叫做十二月吧，嗯... 不是很喜歡。把十二月三個字拼一拼，拼成青，嗯... 當然不行啊，青的文字風格跟我的不一樣。還是胚吧。
那...

就在我那來那去東張西望的時候，我看到那個裝藏書印的零錢包，走過去盯著它幾分鐘，我居然發起呆來，發呆對我來說不是一件簡單自然的事情，通常必須要有高人引導或是疲累到一個限度。當我發現自己在發呆的那一瞬間，我拿起了那零錢包不再遲疑的打開它。

有兩個印章袋呢。一個是紅色絨布袋，一個是藍色運動褲布袋。
我知道藏書印是在藍色運動褲布袋裡，又是那種一看到記憶就會湧上的情況，那時為了高中美術課... 高中美術老師想要把大家都變成全能藝術家，我們從素描、水彩、國畫到雕塑都要會，還要會畫室內設計圖、背西洋藝術史、寫博物館參觀報告。藏書印就是我十四歲那年刻的，空前絕後，打了分數之後，我回家把國中的運動短褲剪一剪縫一縫變成印章袋... 這也是空前絕後的作品啊。
但那紅色絨布袋裡是什麼啊？
我先打開未知物的布袋，啊！是你啊！是大學時候去澎湖玩買的五花石，正楷刻了我的名字。澎湖故事妻的 T-shirt 是一直跟著我，偶爾還是會在家穿，但是這印章真的是在我的記憶裡迷路了，現在看到它感觸良多啊...

把兩個印章都洗刷一下，放在顯眼的地方，心念轉到眼底變得模模糊糊。

小星，帶個紅色印泥來給我吧！我立刻寫信給要來找我玩的姐妹。
書兒們即將要烙印了，跟留在台北的書一樣，會有那四個字，麻嗎告訴我的四個字：自在一生。

visibly uncomfortable

In 2006, the movie or semi-real documentary "Borat: Cultural Learnings of America for Make Benefit Glorious Nation of Kazakhstan" unexpectedly shocked and surprised everyone. I fell in love with this artist/actor/thinker Sacha Baron Cohen and crazily searched for all online videos about Borat and Sacha Cohen for several hours.

This year, the movie Bruno, whose original title, according to IMDb, was "Bruno: Delicious Journeys Through America for the Purpose of Making Heterosexual Males Visibly Uncomfortable in the Presence of a Gay Foreigner in a Mesh T-Shirt" is even better!


Borat and Bruno were the stimuli in these experiments of social psychology. People, the subjects, who were selected to be shown in these films, represent a significantly large proportion of the American world. Superficial politeness, political correctness, xenophobia, homophobia, and gender-based double standard on homosexuals are all good examples of the American phenomena.

After laughing so hard in the theater, the audience would think sadly about this country. Why are there people who have a lifetime goal of becoming a celebrity? Why are there parents using their babies as dollar-producing trees? Why do skinny stupid models deserve high pay? Why do people feel so uncomfortable with gay men but okay with lesbians? Why do gay men give the world the impression that they only care about physical stuff and ignore anything beyond? Why is hunting defined as a straight thing to do? Why is showing a penis so funny in movies?

Superstar said if the fighting scene were played by two girls, the whole male crowd would have got hard on, rather than throwing chairs onto the stage.
If the SM-binding scene were played by two girls, the guards would have reacted opposite way and never taken them to the police.

Sacha Cohen is successful because he makes audience discuss and think about his work after stepping out of the theater. I think about how he came up with these ideas of experiments. I think about how he conjured up the way to express all these ideas. I think about his influence does not need a peer-reviewed journal or tenure-track committee or a grant-review board to stamp approval. I think about how tiny I am in this world where I can mostly complain about things without doing anything to promote changes.
How come the whole experience turned out to be upsetting? It is visibly uncomfortable, as the original title suggested, although Bruno truly is a beautiful man.

moving

Moving is my current life.
I am moving from a small town to a bigger suburban city. I am moving from a cubicle to an office.

After a truck load (actually a full UHaul van) and a holiday of moving, I am going back to the old apartment everydayafter work for the past week to gradually take things to the new place. Two reasons for this tedious behavior: 1) I am not a professional or strong mover, and able to carry certain amount of stuff each time. 2) Bungbung is not a van.
The new place is awesome. Organizing it is painful. First of all, I need furniture to start the process of organization. The kitchen and closets are wonderfully equipped, but the bedroom and living room are poorly empty.
Because of my excellent taste, love-at-first-sight furniture is all expensive. Superstar has been guarding my bank account and constantly educating me how to save money by patiently looking in various stores. I have visited 2 Targets, 3 Bed, Bath, and Beyonds, 4 Home Depots, and several K-marts, Containers, local funiture/futon shops, etc. Each stores, I may have been there for more than twice for the past 10 days.
We could walk for 6 hours in a couple of stores but only bought 3 items. My legs and patience were running out of control.
Superstar cannot believe how difficult it could be to get the perfect trashcan for me. I cannot believe how difficult it could be to get the perfect bar stools, chest, TV stand, couch, rug, and window curtain. All is difficult because all has to meet the financial and personnally arty criteria for both of us.
At the end of the day, I cannot believe how much I care about Superstar's opinions on everything. If I were single, things could have been done in one day with my over-decisive careless personality, but my credit would have gone broken.

After over two months of the new position, entitled with a real office, I am still working in my cubicle.
I gave them time, hoping the office was set up after my trip to Taiwan. Apparently, they "thought" they ordered furniture, as the person in charge literally told me so as a seemingly acceptable explanation. I was confused. How can you "think" you ordered a desk? If you ordered it, you would have got a receipt or a confirmation number. Anyway, I was simply kindly asking the person to order it soon.
A month later, the desk arrived. But the room was a mess. The carpet was dirty. Junk from another lab was still occupying the room.
Two weeks later, the room was cleaned. But I could not move in because there was and still is no telephone, which is a very important and necessary device in an office. The person said he would order one for me.
I was afraid that he would only think about it but not do it, according to the previous furniture episode. Therefore, from time to time, I went ask our lab secretary, who evidentally had showed more trustworthy responses.
As my cubicle is exploding, and as my work really requires a bigger space, and as some stuff from my old apartment should be moved to the office, I have started moving things into the office. Finally, replying to my email today, the person said I may have a chance to move over next Wednesday.

At least, my arms and legs are getting stronger these days. But my back and shoulder hurt.
My patience may be trained better. Or my appearance of hiding my impatience has improved a lot.
I wish my sleep quality can get back to normal soon. I opened eyes at 6 am for three days after perfectly quiet nights (why I emphaze "quiet nights" will be explained in the future entry.) I don't want to naturally wake up before 7:30 am! I may have rapidly aged in two weeks.

Nonetheless, my dream of moving is to begin a new youth.
I wish this dream will come true. I know it is coming.

king has gone

I was there, October 1996, when MJ came to Taipei.
That was actually the second time, and the last time, in my memory when he toured to Taipei.
The first time was in my junior high years. I did not save enough money to go to his concert. One ticket asked for NT$ 4000 (about US$135), but I did not even have regular allowances.
A couple years later in 1996, he came again. I had went to senior high and started getting some hundreds per week from Mama. I did not tell Mama until several days before the concert. She was mad at me spending that much money on entertainment. I was like: this is my money, and it is not just some entertainment. It is Michael Jackson!
(Years later, I spent more on Michael Jordan because it was Michael Jordan!)

I was surprised to see her when waiting in line with my classmate (whose name I cannot recall and whose face I could hardly recall either) to get into the stadium for the concert.
Mama said she liked him too. She deserved to spending money. Yes, I smiled to the fact that she finally could not help but spending what she earned on what she deserved.

Looking at her ticket, oh my, she was sitting in the same area as me!
The night became a great night with Mama. Both of us screamed until our throats could not produce any sound. I sang with MJ, and Mama asked how come I knew the lyrics. I said I had listened to his History album everyday for months. My classmate somehow faded. I don't remember whether she enjoyed the concert or enjoyed her night with me. But I definitely enjoyed the night with Mama and her excited spirit. I loved Michael Jackson!

He died today.

demon and angel

Her name is Dr. Beth.
Since the first time I submitted an NIH grant application, I have called her and emailed her numerous times. My boss had highly recommended me to call her. My boss believes that NIH program officers like to talk to investigators. My boss believes that Dr. Beth is the most incredible program officer for investigators.
I don't know about that. I do know that Dr. Beth is one of the nicest persons in the world.
She always made me feel I was the smartest scientist or my application was the most fundable project.
She has the voice.

It's like picking a yoga class. No matter how good the teacher's skills or teaching techniques are, if he/she does not have the soothing voice that softens every conflict on the earth, I will abandon the class.
Dr. Beth has the voice. She would be a great yoga teacher if she left science.

My first interaction with her was through email.
Not only did she reply immediately, but she also tried to make an appointment for a conference call. If I left a message in her voice mail, she would definitely return my call within one business day.
I felt so important.

This project I had submitted twice, February 2008 being the first submission and November 2008 being the second. See how this process takes time?
My score got better the second time around. But the percentage priority did not seem to 100% ensure me that the project would definitely get funded.
In April, I called Dr. Beth. At that time, she was not my primary program office for this particular project. I asked if her institute was interested in my project. She read my proposal and said yes. I asked her my chance to get funded through her institute. She said the Obama administration gave lots of money to research this year and my project might get funded because of the stimulus fund. I asked if she could re-assign my project to her institute. She ran some internal paperwork and emailed me with a word "Done!"
So I waited.

Last Thursday the 11th was the day when the advice council took place to decide if my project was funded.
I checked a specific NIH website entire day, trying to get the news. However, the website was impossible to get on. Everyone who submitted an NIH proposal seemed to try to get on it.
On the next day, the situation did not change. But messages from NIH said that particular website was going through some serious unknown unsolved problems.
Oh... federal agencies....
So I waited.

After a weekend, I emailed Dr. Beth. My email bounced back immediately, saying she was out of office and would return on Wednesday.
So I waited.

On Wednesday morning, I received Dr. Beth's email, saying my project was not funded.
What? What a demon! How could she do this to me? She gave me hope and a couple months later kicked me down the hill.
My heart was broken. I asked for hugs from everyone in the lab. I could not pay attention in meetings. I forced myself to focus on manuscript writing. I went to bed early.
On Thursday, my big boss comforted me and suggested me to call Dr. Beth. I was like: what is the point to bother her again? Yeah.. she did not help passing my proposal, but it was not her job to make a guarantee. Big boss said that I should call her because she had given me hope that the payline was generous this year with Obama money.
I was convinced then. What could I lose anyway? But instead of calling her, I sent a nice email saying how much I have learned, how much I thanked her for all the encouragement, and how much I would never give up trying again and again. And please kindly let me know if the stimulus fund would work for my application.
I went home and slept over it.

Today, at 9:30 am, Dr. Beth replied with a death sentence: No, sorry, your project was not funded.
My heart was numb. Whatever. I went on with my work and continued writing.
At 4 pm, my phone rang. I thought it was Jenny or Naureen telling me that I should go to test a patient.
It was Dr. Beth!
She said that her computer was down, but luckily she kept my new office number somewhere else. She would like to tell me in person (phone call is indeed more personal than email these days) that she put my project into the process of getting the stimulus money! Before things are signed and sealed, however, she could not guarantee the result, but at least my application is not dead.
She apologized that she made my day down and up in several hours. Even though her computer was not working, she insisted to give me the good news so that I could start my weekend happily.
What a nice person!
I even "oh-my-god"-ed to her remarks although I am not an OMG girl at all. Was she an angel or what? Did she just convert me into an OMG person?
After the conversation, I immediately emailed my boss and big boss. I wanted to pass on the karma of "starting the weekend happily."

Can't believe that my mood is altered so easily by Dr. Beth.
Is it a good sign or bad sign?
I officially become a grant-chasing research scientist, for sure.