Thanksgivings-"people's co-op" (Part 2)

Before I continue on my friends, I want to further talk about me. So here is the delimma. When my life is a piece of shit, my blog shines. When my life gets back to track, my blog stinks. I do not know which situation I want more. When I am down, I definitely wish for happier days. But when I am "feliz", I surely miss the time that I was mentally and emotionally challenged, as if life is more colorful that way. Well, I surely cannot choose on this level, but ain't I making the choice every day?

My week went by fast, and I did not even have time for running this week until Satureday. No good. On a bright sight, I find myself gaining confidence in the path I am about to take. You know, I am applying for assistant professor, post-doc, consulting firms and law schools at the same time. Usually, I was very shy when people asked, "what do you want to do?" Well, now I am confident enough to believe that there is no right or wrong answers and to claim, "I do not know, but I will be the one to find out!" Well done. Also, the newly-gained confidence allows me to admit that I hated some boring people all along and believes in my own judgments, some of which stereotypical. I guess that confidence and arrogance really comes hand in hand, and I hope I am not turning a bad person because of that. Good or bad, at least I am more sincere now than ever before.

Today I had the 100th run on campus drive. It is about the distance between SF and LA. I will probably keeps running. What's the next goal? Las Vegas? Pheonix? It sounds really exciting, but I guess I have to take one step at a time on the ground. Running has become such an integral part of my life, now for no reasons. Pure and simple, breathing in cold air, feeling the leg muscle become heavier and heavier, in the sun or in the rain, feeling sweaty or feeling sick and weak, chasing other runners or passed by them. Just run. I am already planning a 101st run on Wednesday.

Then 100th marks give me some bragging points, as now I can legitimately put my last year behind, and look forward to something even better. To be honest, the past year was weird. I still do not understand that I totally lost control over myself and had to deal with a lot of issues. The good part is that I found a lot of new friendship when I showed my vulnerability. I also had some good stories to remember, no matter how these experiences had impacted me. Had girl problem twice. First time it was a failed pursuit that went nowhere, and I still believe that she and I will make a nice couple. I am still quite confused with the second time with D. Probably from the day one I already got the message that it had no future, but still I was blindfoldedly drove to a dead corner until I realized it was in vain. She later asked me whether she had took advantage of me. Of course yes, but on the other hand, I also took advantage of the situation and escaped from my own loneliness and from dealing with my own issues. Well, I guess it made it even.

Ok, now the real heros of this blog: my friends as "people's co-op"

The third kitchen manager is a guy. He is doing a good job, but not under my stanrdard though. Well, not a single kitchen manager is doing a good enough job to pass my test. I am a bad-ass. He is responsible for dairy, and there is just not enough whole milk for me. He also likes to order expensive orange juice, probable just because he likes it. Well, he is a great person, but I do not believe he is a good manager. However, the beauty of my job is to work with all kinds of managers. I believe I haven't let my dissatisfaction shown in a visible way.

The RCC is good and bad at the same time. I spent Thanksgiving with him and his friends and had a lot of run. We had grilled steaks. We burnt a lot of things: charcoals, marshmellows, donuts, sticks, CDS. Then some stupid tennis video game with Mario Brothers. He also introduced me to a game called "world of warcraft" and gave a free referral. And then I spent the day after thanksgiving for 14 hours playing that game. I was exhausted at 4am, and decided to delete the game for good.... To be honest, RCC does not have a lot of responsibilities to begin with, so he is doing just fine.

Finally, there is my roommate, the FM for the house. I will have a seperate post for blog for him very soon, but here is a brief sketch. His working style is similar to me, so I feel very comfortable working with him. He probably does not have too much creativity (except that he is a musician), but he did all the solit work for the financial situation. Certainty guaranteed if you work with him. He kindly invited me to his house on Dec 17-19, two days when I do not have any housing. Giant kudos to him.

Overall, this team is great. Although I tend to be picky on each individual, I love them as a team. Each one of us has our strength and weakness. i am a boring person, but i get jobs done. Other people sometimes slack off, but they are really fun to be with to cheer everything up. So one word to summarize it all: Love.

Walk the line

I watched a movie "walk the line". Somehow, I was deeply touched. It is not like another cheap chick flick that used music and slow motions to make you cry. Rather, it calmly portraited a life that I am so in awe and admiration. Now I am listening to Jognny Cash's : At Folsom Prison. I have this album in my album in my ipod for a while, but now I have a very different understanding. It is now much more enjoyable.

One thing that struck me is that there is no wasted life. I tended to be very calculative about my time, trying to achieve the most benefits with lowest cost. But I felt small now. I felt I am not free. I am constrained by my rationality, trapped in my own jail and shouted but the noise was tiny. I hope one day I would be free, doing things I really like to do (comparing to now: I do not even understand what i want to with my future), and have a unique life experiences. The other thing is the relationship between Johnny and June. I mean, their relationship has been exaggurated, but heck, it is still amazing.

Thanksgivings-"people's co-op" (Part I)

I think it is time to write one blog now. Last week is very hectic, and I did not do too well. I did not even find time to go for a run! However, I am taking a deep breath now, since this is the first day of the nine-day school recess for Thanksgiving. I feel it is time to log in a list of "thanks". The big thanks should go to the management team in my co-op. Here, I want to give a sketch for everyone, and this is my way to thank all of them for a solid quarter. I call the whole team as "people's co-op". It is the "p" entry of my friend blog.

A is the Resident Assistant (RA) for the co-op. He is tall and skinny. According to my understanding, he is a christian gay. I do not know how people can reconciliate gay with christian belief. But since religion is bullshit, I guess you can twist it in a way that you feel comfortable. A is funny cheerleader type. He is the champain of trivial knowledge. When we watch "family guys", he seems to understand all the jokes. I probably understand 1/10 of them. He usually lead the staff meeting. He made conscious decisions in making the meeting funny, but sometimes also makes the meeting too long, as he tried hard to make reference to something remotely funny. He has the capacity to be very mature and responsible, but for some reasons, he keeps coming back to his funny self.

B is the social manager. First of all, I do not like his working style. He can be very commited for something, but he can also be slacking off if he does not feel like it. Very impulsive and unrational. But as a team, I am happy we have him, as a lot of genius ideas coming out of him. For example, last party we had, we had a jumping castle and cotton candy machine. Amazing! I do not know him quite much, as he usually hung out with his gay friends or were busy in his product design homework. He could be selfish, as he stabbed in the back of the financial manager in a meeting with house supervisor. But as far as I could interact with him in a way that makes him feel alright, I have nothing to complain.

C is one of the kichten manager. She is "awesome", as people said on her facebook wall. She is indeed awesome, as she acts like a mother figure in the house. She has a lot of knowledge about managing the house. She is also tall and strong, which adds to her authority. She always wants things to be perfect. As a result, she is easily streesed out. I still do not understand why she does not have a boyfriend yet. IN my mind, she will be the best girlfriend. Well, men are strange animals, aren't they? She has a minor dialexia, which makes her have a hard time in academic studies. Indeed, from the bit and piece I know of, she sometimes could fail the exam or homework. It is too bad. Actually, she will probably move out of the house next year, as she partially blame the kitchen manager responsibility for contributing to her failing. I wish her the best luck, although I did not see that it really makes a big difference. Maybe one day she will find out, since she is such a well balanced person, academic failing is really no big deal.

D is kitchen manager 2. I can tell she does not particularly like me, as we are opposite of everything. She is on the track team of the school, and she is seductively pretty, especially when she smiles. She is super transparent, as you can tell whether she is happy or not by looking at her or having a simple conversation with her. Somehow, i think she is mad at me: In one email to the house, I forgot to put her name on the manager list. My bad.

back to life

I finally can take a breath. Sorry that I did not keep up with the blog recently. I guess I have probably lost all my readers due to my laziness, but what the heck, because I am writing on.

I feel I am a lucky person in a lot of ways recently. Last year, I all of a sudden felt being cut off all the supportive network. I was stuck in the middle of two cultures and two continents. But this year, my perspective has changed. Remember I said I am applying for law school? Well, the reason why I was reluntant to say it out loud earlier is that I was afraid to alienate my “friends”, especially that I have been hiding this secret from them for such a long time. Errr, as it turns out, a lot of people are actually positive or nuetral. My Chinese friends, the soc fellows, the dance group, my fabulous staff members in my co-op, general residents in the co-op. Even my adviser and other professors are not pissed off by me. I guess most of them are doing that out of respect of my own decisions, and it by no means is full endorsement. However, half-assed nodding means a lot to me already. Thanks. It feels great that I am finally get rid of my secret and also know that it has not hurt anyone, although it might catch some of them off-guard. By the way, I am talking to Hope about her law school experience next Wednesday!

I am going to choreograph a dance piece this quarter. It begins to come together. It will be a fun ride. Also, my running reached 95 today. Also, I am ready for a re-emergency of friend's blog over thanksgiving. My plan is getting everything done by the end of this year. I am feeling the kick of aging, as I get tired easily in dance classes and sometimes feel my knees are a little stiff. However, mentally I am ready for an exciting year to a full fruition.

hoo-hoo, one more chapter

I finally put my ass together and got one more chapter done. Shame on me, because I had promised to get it done 35 days ago. Hope my advisor wouldn't be pissed.
On a side note, I am going to choreograph a modern dance piece for bent spoon company. I am going to collect vocabulary of movement in the coming week. The title of the dance is "bean on the floor", refering to a story in my blog "Niang-Niang".

About hugging

These days I am receiving a fair amount of huggings. And to be honest, I like it. Biological studies have shown the benefits of huggings and cuddlings, and I am hoping I am actually reducing my future risks of heart attack or stupid cancors.
My Chinese friends tend to think I am selling out for American culture, and I am sorry they think this way. Deep down, I am even regarding them as cowards, hiding behind a cultural shell that allows them to be safe but limited. To my defense, I do not prefer American cultural just because it is foreign. For example, I was in a renaissance faire yesterday, and I think that culture is so creepy and pervert: everyone dressed like a noble but talked like a whore. I could feel sexual tension in the faire. I believe some people must be turned on by the victorian era's style. Well, renaissance culture is as western as you can get, but I hate it.
The same for my home culture: hugging is so reserved for the most intimate relatonship, so people now tend to think hugging with a sexual undertone. This culture makes me very uncomfortable to be around with my American friends, as I observed their bodies are free to make any contact, while I am as rigid as a block of wood.

rolled out

I had a very weird dream last night. I cannot remember exact, but I know that I was in a movie or some dramatic event. A kid was sent to a orphanage, but he told the administrators that he took a wrong turn on the street and that's why he ended up in the orphanage. The administrators let him go. I am the one to take the kid with me. Along the way we saw a group of kneights chasing a girl who carries a dog. I told the kid, "something bad is going to happen."

Well, that's all i can remember. Then all of a sudden, I was waken by heavy door knocking. I thought to myself, "it might be my neighbor's birthday." My roommate got up, openned the door, and then let me get up, "you just got rolled out by Bent Spoon Company." I dressed myself, hugged three girls in the hallway, and was let to a nearby dorm where we had a small meeting and some nice coffee cake.

To certain extent, I have to say I am lucky. I had some serious doubts about my approach to my life here for some time. I felt I lost touch with Chinese student community, while at the same time I could be melt into the American community. I often had feelings that i am the one who is stuck in the middle, like an isolated island surrounded by several continents which i do not have bridge to access. But recently, things began to change. I made some effort to reconnect myself with other Chinese friends while still being myself. At the same time, my big gamble of trying to dive into american culture finally seems to pay off. by "pay off", I do not intend the dirty way, as if my master plan is always to access the culture regarded as "superior". Not at all (although readers, i am not mad if you think this way). Rather, I am finally enjoying myself in a crowd that i feel that I belong to. It is like the island finally drifting toward and reconnect to the land mass, and I am not alone any more.

So that's a lot of thought for a single roll-out. Thank you, Nicole, Marcela and Melanie. You guys rock. I am going to give my best in the company.

after a long hiatus

Haha, a new quarter finally starts, and I am as happy as hell. Allow me here to laugh out loud before I dig into petty details. Hahaha.

So what s happening? Well, a lot to catch up. First of all, remember in one of the older blogs in which I said I had kept some secrets for a long time? Well, it is finally the time. I took LSAT test three days ago. I did well. The whole plan is that while applying for a academic job in sociology, I will also set my eyes on top laws school. The possible outcomes of either choice make any speculation impossible, but my bottom line is: whichever path gives me a “top” choice, I will go for it. It has been awful to keep this secret away from even my closest friends for so long, and it really made me feel like a bad person and a liar. And now I am ready to put every bit of the secret behind and enjoy life and enjoy friendship guilt-free.

For those of you who are still interested in my “friend series”, sorry about the long hiatus. I have to admit that I ran out of materials for a while. Now the school starts again, and I am making new friends and reconnect with some old folks, the series is poised to continue. Actually, I have had some great ideas about the next several blogs. Please stay tuned. But for the next couple of weeks, I will need to finish another chapter of my dissertation in order to do well on the job market, regardless whether I am going to take it.

Start a Spanish class. Me lloma Songhua. Y tu? Did I just get you off guard? Anyway, sometimes I do not understand myself on this: Why I am okey with spending time in learning new skills, but have no desire to get to know the real world at all? Upon knowing my law school plan, one friend asked, “oh, my, how long you plan to stay in school?” Well, it might just be my inertia. Since learning things from books gave me so much advantages throughout my school career, I am now locked in this learning mode. The illusion is that learning from books will hone my skills of learning from real world in the future. True or false I do not know, and only thing I know is to get my finger crossed.

I get much done recently. Amazingly I am sleeping 6-7 hours a day, and I am just doing fine without dozing off in classes. I guess that’s an indication of my getting of the “depression” list. Last year I think I need 8 hours of sleep but still feel tired. Some days I am still feeling not super good, but I guess it is just like most other people. That girl and I sorta re-establish our friendship. We had some good time chatting, and I do not really care about the incidents at all, and I hope she forgot about it too. But on a side note, if I am not attractive to her (who seems to share so much with me), what kind of hope I have to attract any girls? For now, I accept this as a settled fact but than trying hard to disprove it, but it makes myself sad no less. Really, it only needs one girl to change my over-sweeping statement, and I hope it is going to happen soon.

I am a person with prejudice. For example, I think a lot of people around are stupid or lazy. However, is it okey to be fake and not hurtful? Or it is better to tell the truth, be sharp but offend people? Or I really need to change myself into a less prejudicing version? If possible, I want to pick the last path, but it is so impossible, so usually I will pick the second when I began to get comfortable around people. I will tell person A, “Hey, I think person B is stupid.” And then person A will try to educate me, saying it is an awful thing to say. So I have two choices again. One, next time be fake. Or two, stopping talking this way to A (maybe say “f*** you” along the way) while maintaining my sharp criticism against everyone else. The second path makes me a lesser person, but really, that is me.

Happiest for a while

I guess I am really really happy recently. Moving back to Terra is a blessing, and I feel like home here. Especially I am the house manager for the house, and the responsibility takes the best of me. I think this is the first time that I feel I am an unreplable asset of the house. I learn so much, but I am also giving so much.

But my dissertation has to take a back seat. I am so sorry about that to my advisor, who seems to have high hopes for my job prospect. Well, I will address that very soon. I hope the responsibility will raise the efficiency of my time, so I can do everything well. I know it is hard, but when I am as happy as I am now, I feel I can pull that off. If you, my readers, believe in me, I know you won't be disappointed in the end. And thank you if you wish me good.

Writing

God damns you , dissertation! I have been planning to write a second chapter for several days, but each time I wanted to start, it just reminded me how unoriginal it is. Sigh... But you know what, I guess I will create some originality along the process of writing.

Proud of my swimming today. I did "pulling" (freestyle without foot-kicking) for 200 meters. Some updates, the running around campus loop 100 times is three quarters done. I ran the dish for the first time several days ago. Well, I guess I could check off one item on my "must-do" list. Also biking to a nearby Boronda Lake. The guard did nto let me in, because I am not a resident of "Palo Alto". But I got in anyway with a back trail. On the way back, my bike got a flat tire, but I fixed it myself with some new procurement from a nearby bike shop.

pub night

I had a lot of fun this weekend, of course, at the expense of getting any work done. Last night I was in a pub with J. As you probably know, I am a person who rarely go out at night. I guess I had too high an expectation about myself, hoping that I can behavior perfectly in a social situation. Ironically, this expectation gets me very intimidated in social situations. I felt stupid when I cannot understand conversation happenning right across the table in a loud environment. What if I ask the bartender a stupid question? Or after he/she gives me a list of beer, I can only understand "Miller"? Stupid indeed, but this kind of thought takes myself permenantly off the social scenes. So it is a good step to be out. And I told J. about my imtimidation, and it felt good to be honest.

I hang out with Amsobol family both days. It was fun. I knew more about some mundane stuff. And I planned to go camping and finishing with my friend next week. And I am going to play some poker tonight. I called my Niang-Niang tow nights ago (I almost forgot it because I was so obsessed with "24"). I feel it is time to write her a letter again. I will try to print some pictures online so I can mail them together. I think whenever I can forget about my work, I am a better person in general. Otherwise, just a selfish bastard.

It is easier to run out of ideas about my title than those for the real contents. So be it. I have been watching the tv series "24" in the past weeks. It was a good story, and I was equally amazed by my control over myself to wacth it only at night and roughly 1-3 episodes a night. Get much work done last week, and I feel i am in a good position for any possibilities next year. A new deadline is on Sep 10 for another chapter, and I think I should be able to finish it, no problem.

I went to the beach last night, illegally. We had a pretty big bon-fire, while discussing variaous topics, from racism to religion. I realized that conversation is a great way to organize my own ideas. No wonder people want to hang out rather do readings. I've preferred the latter, but the former might turn out to be just as good. If that is indeed true, then all my years of trying to get ahead with heavy readings will turn out to be a giant mistake.

Maybe I should take some fun classes next quarter to make the most out of my last year here. Two classes in my mind right now: Spanish and piano. Both will be cool.

do not need title

Perfect time for blogs right now. It's saturday, and I just watched a stupid movie "dodgeball" with my roommate's brother. Now there is still some time before going to sleep. These days I am very not motivated for blogs. I thought the new column I am writing for Beijing Daily would rekindle my interest of writing, but they took two of my articles, putting on the waiting line. So I just wait too, will resume writing my column when they begin to publish mine.

Just finish three-day house sitting for my friend. I think I really enjoy having my own apartment in a short term. Walking dogs, making dinners, biking to school are wasting time if I have to do it every day, but it could be fun in a short run. One dog, "Shelly", ate cat food, so I yelled at her. Now she learned the lesson. One morning, the light woke me up, and then Shelly climbed up on my bed. Both of us slept for two more hours. It is nice to have another living thing to share your bed. The cat still does not allow me to hold her. Another dog "Ren" is getting really old, and I think he will die in one year. Just think about one year ago, he was with us in Vegas, walking on the hot street, full of energy.

I am thrifty. I think about money a lot. Of course, I am saving money for something right now, and even invested money a lot bit this year and got quite good returns. However, that's no excuse. I hope I can be cooler about finance in the future. Of course, the best way is to be rich, since rich people do not care much because they have plenty. But I want to change even without being rich.

Next week is crucial. If i can finish revise this one chapter, I am two third ready for the job market next year. Also, I can claim this summer a huge succeed. I plan to recount everything I do during the summer when the summer finish. It will be a hit. All right. Go to sleep.

a day of events

I think I had an eventual day today. I was with a middle-school friend for te whole day. (Some of the followings might not make too much sense, but I will write it anyway. I will make a "blog about friend" about her soon). With her, I was always a little bit annoyed but felt challenged. I thought my way of living is positive and proactive, but in comparison to her, it is nothing. Yeah, "challenged" is the best word to describe my feeling towards her. She is indeed like a perfect reference point for me, from which I can see the direction of my life more clearly. Thanks.

I pretty much took today off. I then went to my friend's house and went back for a farewell party of another friend. I am quite able to make a good impression in social scenes. You know, to make good contacts for the future, or possibly find a girlfriend along the way. However, my problem is that I always think the time I spend in socializing is not worth the time I read books or writing papers. So I never make a commitment. However, today I decided to just relax, and it made a difference. However, what about tomorrow? I will again hide back in my ivory tower.

One major reasons for my lack of interest in socializing is because my life is still wrapped in one big secret. Fortunately, I will no longer need to keep this secret for long. The time is coming, and I think my life will take a turn too.

About my life, isn't it?

All the recent blogs have one feature: They are not about me. You may ask, "Hey, how is YOUR life? Any danger of falling apart?:-)" Nah. But here are some updates about me. Since this blog is "about my life", I shouldn't be apologetic about it, should I?!

Recently I am juggling many balls in the air at the same time: writing a paper while writing chapters of dissertation and at the same time searching for data for another paper in my mind, summer camp one weeks ago and ALC program for the next three, about 40 hours of work (I slacked off a lot though), led my advisor's research group to finish some codings, just finished Harry Potter book, house job in my co-op, daily routine of exercises (running, swimming and gym in a three day rotation). Oh, I need to move office next week. Why, because my crazy department has a great plan to move everybody around, just for fun, or for the sake of keeping us fit my moving those giant desks. Thank you very much. By the way, I hope my friend Amsol is still planning to go to Vegas so I can tag along. It is pretty cool to race with time this way.

I had lunch with Brey the other day. He asked me to find a girlfriend "today, right now!" Well, I guess I am such a coward, living in a safety bubble of work and too afraid to take any personal risks. On the other hand, I hope I am really making progress in breaking the old pattern. Eye-contact, feel comfortable in talking to people, it is okey to talk about myself or make weird sound, no afraid of physical contact of slapping or hugging. That's the goal. By the way, I'd never danced in a party until the party in the dance camp. So here is a more specific goal: dance in a co-op party next academic year. Forget about self-embarrassment.

The girl I was blogging about since last september and I finally put things behind and were back to be friends. Something to cheer about it, isn't it? It is comforting to know that I am not a wierd person in her mind after all (No matter how many counselling sessions I had, I still care about how other people think of me. Pathetic, but live with it). I helped her a little last time by sharing my experience with writer's block (she is writing her thesis right now). It is good to know that my fucked-up experience can do some good.

Also I am going to teach a lecture in English this Wednesday. My first lecture not in a mother tougue ever! Excited but nervous. I know I will put it off okey, but the waiting process isn't that fun. I am about 2 thirds of my goal of 100 campus loop run, although the hot weather dampened my motivation and slowed my pace.

Harry Potter

Just finish the latest harry Potter book. It is a good read. Here is my prediction of the seventh book 2 years later. I believe most of the prediction will turn out to be correct, so do not read it if you want a full enjoyment of book 7.
1. Harry and Ginny will be a couple. Ron and Herniome, also.
2. RAB is Ruphrus Black (an idea from other discussion forums, and I believe it).
3. Snape is good.
4. Snape and Lily had a romantic relationship before. Lily used the half-blooded prince (Snape's) book when slughorn was the teacher. They figured out all the hints together and put them down on the book.
5. James Potter was a bully and was mean to Lily. That's why Lily fell for Snape, also a victim of James. Snape wanted to kill James because of that, so he turned to Voldemort.
6. However, Voldemort killed Lily too. That's why Snaped hated Voldemort, and that's why he is on the good side. That's also why he also does not like Harry, because he is also partially responsible for Lily's death.
7. Dombledort trusted Snape because he trusts the power of love. The death of Lily put him in the side of good. Voldemort underestimated the power of love.
8. Neville is actually the original chosen one. Harry was chosen in the beginning as a double to protect Neville. However, Voldemort mistakenly chose Harry, and now Harry is the eventual chosen one. Neville and Luna.
9. Draco will turn good.
10. There is one death eater in the current faculty of the school, though I am not sure who. What's why Dombledort chose death to get away. He would come back to life, or something equavelent to that.
11. Some scenes will take place in Azbarkc Prison.
12. Harry might be an extra piece of Horcrux.
13. Harry will eventually realize nothing can be perfectly pit into good or bad. He thought his father was a hero, but he turned out to be an unforgivable bully. He thought his mom was flawless, but she turned out to have an affair. Snape hated him, but he is in the good cause all along and he was good to Harry's mom. Knowing that, the ending is easy to explain. Harry destroy every other Horcruxes except the one within his body. He has to live peacefully with it for the rest of his life. Good and evil in the same body. Dombledort's words echos, "Good or bad is not about your ability, but about your choice."

kayaking in Monterey! 

Upward Bound

My second column article

When we grow up, our idealism begins to wear off and cynicism takes over. We do all kinds of cost-benefit analysis for our possible actions and then surrender with a heavy sign, “nothing matters”. No more childhood dreams of “being a scientist” or “saving the world”. We take any jobs that help raise the prosperity of a fancy car and a spacious apartment. Well, that’s a world from the perspective of a cynic like me. Once a while, however, my altruistic self will dictate me to do something different. That’s how I got involved with Upward Bound.

Upward Bound is a program that helps low-income high school students in preparing for college. My duty this summer is tutoring 7 Hispanic high school seniors three nights a week for a month. They are all from low-income immigrant families. They were picked into the program because of their potential in succeeding in higher education. Compared to the kids from the dance camp (see my last week’s column), however, they have much less resources to realize their potentials.

To be honest, they do not study as hard as any of my friends back in my high school years. Although I am their tutor, they do not ask me academic questions quite often. Instead, they like to horse around during their study-hall session. One guy Ronnie is the clown, always making people laugh, but always behind his own homework. Yuni is the loud one. She has a tall figure and an amazing smile. She can start a hip-hop dance, or even fight with boys, in the middle of study session. Ivy and Christina are quiet and patient. They are the ones who get homework done in time and help Ronnie on his homework in their spare time. Meleto studies Chinese this summer to fulfill her foreign language requirement. She asked me once what was “small study”, and it took me a while to figure out that she was talking about “elementary school”. One night, all of them got curious about Chinese. I taught them a bunch of Chinese words. Now they say “Ni Hao (hello)” when they see me and accuse each other as “Shu Dai Zi (nerd)”, and then giggle.

Today is the last day of the tutoring. I missed their talent show earlier. When I arrived at their study hall session, the excitement about the performance hadn’t died down. They performed a dance again in the lobby along with music from laptop speakers. They showed me clips of the show. During one section students described their kisses with metaphors. “My kiss is like taking a shower, warm and will go as long as you want.” “My kiss is like coconut, sweet in the beginning and smooth in the end.” And my favorite, “My kiss is like time, which never ends.” The audience screamed like crazy. Well, I am impressed by their potentials, not only in kissing or Chinese, but also in succeeding in college. I wish them the best in applying for college next year.

starting a column in Beijing Daily

The first probably will be published next week!I am going to start a column in Beijing Daily. I guess writing is my thing of communication. While maintaining this blog as some private thoughts to myself, the column is about a revised me that I want people to know. I will tell all my friends and relatives about the newspaper and the link soon. Here is the preview.

Beating a Lake

If you are obsessed with your own popularity as much as I am, you probably search your name on “google” three times a day, hoping your own homepage come on top. Well, it might work for you, but I have no match with a lake called “Songhua Hu” as well (in Chinese, “Hu” means lake). I figure that starting a column in a newspaper might help me jumpstart my popularity that even the super search engine “google” has to recognize.

Without a doubt, life is a popularity contest, starting when you are young. Take a summer camp for an example. I was a counselor for the dance camp last week. Fifty-seven kids of 13-16 years old, converging from all around the nation, took modern dance and hip-hop classes in my university for a week. Their raging hormone made them energetic and tireless, but it also led to a craving for attention and an ego bigger than the hill behind my campus. However, my favorite dancers are always those kept their cool and poise. They often hid on the back corner, moving on their own rhythms with grace. When you spot them, you suddenly realize that, beyond all the popularity contests, ones who do not care eventually win.

In the middle of the camp, Harry Potter book came out. Campers began to read it like maniacs. One of my fellow counselors, Nicole, finished it in two days by sacrificing some sleeping time. Younger kids were even more into it. They would leave the lobby immediately when Harry Potter topics came up, afraid that the discussion would ruin their enjoyment of discovering the plot on their own.

At night, we played games and watched videos. The game I love the most is called “Catch-Phrase”. The rule is that you have to describe something without saying the exact word. For example, when you say something like, “a rectangular thing you sleep on”, the other players guess what you have just described. Whoever shouts out “bed” wins the point. A non-native speaker of English, I have the natural advantage of making up silly descriptions. Kids laughed at me when I described “sea” as “a big chunk of water” or “comb” as “something to sort out your hair”. Of course, sometimes I just intentionally made mistakes to crack them up. My favorite is to guess “the scientific name of spit” as “vomit”. We all laughed like kids. Well, they ARE kids, and I just pretend to be one of them.

Oh, Kids (cont.) II

Last night, before I went to bed, I wrote down the following.

"Now it is 00:48am. Today is the last day of the dance camp. I have the sudden realization that I might have done some injustice to the kids in the dance camp. I am not frigging Jesus Christ, and really have no firm ground to judge people as imperfect. Besides, we had a good time, and moral judgment is pale in front of the happiness. I do not want to leave a negative note on those dancers, because they are great. Here are some very silly episodes I want to tell.

There is one girl in the camp who is an amazing dancer. I always hid behind her so I can mimic the movements in dance classes. She is very poised and cool. Compared to other girls, she has a mental stage beyond her age. If there is anyone in the camp who actually saved money to pay for this camp themselves, I believe she is the one. You can say I am her secret admirer, or even have a little crush on her, or whatever. I have been dying to tell her that she is a great dancer, but never got a chance. Yesterday night, when we had a small party, she was one of those who did not go (She was too cool for that). When I walked pass her door, I found her door was open. So I knocked the door, and she was reading the most recent Harry Potter book. I stepped in and had some random talks about why she did not go to the party and whereabouts of her roommate. Then I told her that she should keep dancing, because she has such a talent in dance and a perfect personality to become a great dancer rahter than a dancer of cheerleading type, which I hate so much that I cannot even start to describe. Then I came out and felt great, just for no reasons.

I also played catchphrase with four young girls. I suspect one young girl might have a crush on me, because she stared at me a lot when she described the word. I had a great time. We were laughing so much that it almost felt like I am making up in this camp for all the bad times I had in the past year. One girl liked to say, “You are weird.” One girl was quite weird, doing mostly random things with spoons, cups, and cards. One girl was calm, and a little depressed. She has a pretty face. There must be something else going in her life that bothered her. One last girl is a friend of the third girl. She did not stand out in any thing, but she is a best friend.

I cannot believe everything is almost over. I am such a sucker, because I am so easy to get emotionally attached to people. I guess I have much love to give, but never really find a way. So every time I spent some good time with people, I wanted the time to stop. But time will pass, and memory will fade, and I will be with other people and hopefully will have as good a time as I have right now."

Ok, the dance camp is over. I am exhausted, but really happy that we took care of those kids very well. Last time I mentioned that if only one group of kids could remember me, I hoped it is the Upward Bound kids. Now I hope these dancers can too. I hope they will remember the big kid who performed hip-Hop on their side, who ran like a maniac in "capture the flag" and accidentally tackled down the girl I described as Liv Taylor before, who got so excited in "catch phrase" that the throat almost cracked. Some of you might remember me as "intense" and "guarded", some of you might remember me as "Sugar Ray" (because of a mistake in catch phrase), and others only remember me as "Songhua!" (emphasis on the exclamation mark). Whatever, but remember me.

Oh, Kids (cont.)

Want to finish off what's left yesterday.

I had fun with the Hispanic students today by teaching them some Chinese phrases, from "Wo Ai Ni" (I love you) to "Shu Dai Zi" (geek). They loved it.

Just a side note. Hispanic is the future. I notice that Upward Bound is well run by a bunch of second generation college educated Hispanics. Their ethnic solidarity amazed me. They all bond together. It is much better than Chinese. I think they will have the US in the future.

Enough detours. Now I am getting back to my main track. My second group is the dance kids. They are mostly white and spoiled. They are mostly female. Three guys though. One is a white trash, who hates all immigrants. Of course, he does not hate me, because he likes to have “Chinese, Japanese, Korean friends”, but not the ones from the southern border. One is called “fag” by the white trash. I do not think the statement is necessarily true. In fact, he has a soft voice and likes to hang out with girls. I think he is just taking advantage of the situation (to hang out with girls). The last one is a kid living in his own world. He does not look at people as often as it should. Actually, he is sorta afraid of human interactions. Remind of myself in the past though. I wish he will grow up all right.

The girls. How should I start here. They are all beautiful and smart. No kids are obese, for sure. Great dancers, some of them. One girl reminds me of Liv Tayler. Actually, if I manage to get all the movie stars’ teenage pictures, their attractiveness will be about the same with the girls I am taking care of right now. But something bothers me, because they do not live up to my expectation. I know, I know. I am hypercritical, and it is unfair to them. They grow up in their resourceful environment and anything bad about them should be blamed about the whole society. But they are my easy target, so sorry, girls.

First, they are selfish. They have an ego larger than my rationality, which I regard as breaking some record already. What they talk about every day is “me, me, me”. One girl is sick today. But here is my own explanation. Part of the reason is that she suddenly lost attention in the big crowd. She used to be the star in high school or at home, but now some girls are prettier than her, or better dancers than her. It must really hit her. She is sick, therefore. When Mike and I sat with her, she began to cry. And Mike gave her some compliments, and all of a sudden she is all smiling. Damn. Before, I probably would think that this girl is so innocent and down to kid’s nature. But after I hang out with those Hispanic kids, everything is in a different perspective. I only hope people give those kids more attention, give them compliments, encourage them, really (or even pretend to) care about them. My volunteering thing starts as a half-assed commitment, but now I really felt that I am making a difference.

Second, camp kids know how to take advantage of situation. One girl, after assigned in B-level class, told us that she want “challenge” so she wants to shift to the advanced level class. Nothing wrong with that. But it strikes me that how those white high-class girls know how to talk to the right people in a right way to take advantage of any education. In contrast, those Hispanic kids are not really taking advantage of me. They are intimidated to talk to me at the very beginning. Only until recently, after I have established as someone they can trust and feel safe, they begin to ask me questions and talk jokes to me without any hesitation.

Both groups of kids are adorable. They are a world apart, probably would never understand each other's life. Indeed, i am a lucky guy, being able to tap into both comminuties. My Chinese identity helps me somehow, because people have low expectations about me at the beginning and then find out that I have enough stuff to impress them.

So here is the question. If I have to choose one group to giving my blessing, who would I choose. To be honest, I love them both. But to be fair, I want to give the Hispanic kids my blessing here. Those dancers are already well endowed with all those good luck, and a blessing from a guy like me does not make a difference. But for the other groups, they probably can use more of it. So here I go, with the affirmative action of my own consciousness, I wish the Hispanic students the best. It means you, Ronnie, Yuni, Meleto, Ivy, Mayre, Christina and Bresido. I wish most of you will go to college next year. If you see me in the future, please shout out "Shu Dai Zi"!

Finally, a blog of friends (Oh, Kids)

Ok, I started the blogs about my friends, and now this is another entry. This time is a collection of people. Since it is time to "O" (Niangniang's blog takes care of "N"), so I name it as "Oh, kids". Seriously, they are all kids, about sixty of them, in two distinct groups. First of all, I want to claim that I like both groups of kids. I felt their energy and spirit most of the time and am grateful about my involvement with them. Another negative about those kids is just because I am a goddamn sociologist.

One group is 7 kids from Upward Bound. They are from low-income families, probably immigrants. They are not inspired for college, or do not see life beyond starting a family with the means of marriage. Overall. they've fucked up, by themselves or by the families they were born in. But they have the potentials, which make them to be part of the program. I am a volenteering tutor this summer for 7 kids who are rising high school senior. They are actually applying to college. I am with them three nights a week for four week. This is the third week.

They are all Hispanic kids. I like them a lot. To be honest, they are not studying hard. They do not ask me academic questions (although I am a tutor). They like to horse around. One guy Ronnie is the crown, always making people laugh, but he has little chance of getting into college because he is taking a geometry class for a third year, which normally takes one year, I guess. Yuni is the loud one. She has a tall built and amazing smile. She can start a hip-hop dance in the middle of study session, or fight with boys. Ivy and Christina are quiet and pretty. They are the ones who get homework done in time. Thye have the best chance of getting into college. They are both like mother-figures for Ronnie. Mayre is obese, stressed out, probably hates how she looks. But she manage to hang out with popular kids, like Ronnie or Yuni. Then there are Meleto and Breisedo. They usually study by themselves. Not popular in mainstream sense, but they have a small crowd on their own, just some juniors. Memeto is studying manderin this summer, so we have some funny conversation about "what's your name" "Where do you come from"? Telling from the progress, I think she is learning very very slowly. Breisedo is cool. She is the one who would blend in boys and have hit-five with everyone.

So that's my group. I like them a lot, probably more than if they all study hard and not play around at all. I mean, the latter is actually my objective, but I do not want to restrict their freedom, so here you go. One will ask, "what is the life like being a light bulb?" Then the conversation just starts without stops in sight. So the poor kid syndrome. They are in a cultural trap that keeps them back withour their own noticing. Their coping strategy is great, having fun in the short term. But in a long run, they fuck themselves up. I mean, I am not value-judging them, saying they are wrong to not study hard. I am here to state the facts, and now I feel about the facts. It especially strikes me because I am starting to take care of another group of kids since two days ago.

I am very tired right now, so I will crash the bed. I will describe the other group the other day. Afterward, a sociological theme will come up. (Damn you, your sucking profession:-). Then I will discuss the social implications and conclude with three major policy recommendation (Ha, did I just get you? I am kiddddddding:-) Good night.

Continue on friend Mayne

I finally went to meet again with my friend Mayne. It was a charity event, so I brought some binders and an internet router for "Homeless Network". Mayne and other organized the event, so she celebrated her 50th birthday while doing something good for the society.

She looked alright. Her friend Susan said she was crying the whole day, barely wiped her tears for the event. I did not ask why? Maybe too much stress for organizing the event? Worrying about too few people would eventually show up? Thinking about she is 50 and still single? I do not know. Sometimes I have to admit that either I am crazy or the rest of the world. What is on earth that I am thinking about those things? Am I supposed to live my own life? Anyway, I did not feel fit in for the event. They were mostly middle-aged women. I could spot that there were some homosexuals, which sorta confirm my suspision all along.

Anyway, what's the deal with the event anyway? In my judgmental mind, Mayne was a failure. No traditional family and no conventional career. However, she was happy during the event, even though the event did not really make a difference for the society. People were still homeless even with those binders and other stuff, hello. However, I hope that she would never know about this. Rather, she could boast about her wonderful 50th birthday when she is 70 years old. Surrounded by all the illusions, she would still be a happy person, crying sometime, but happy eventually.

She said she would call me again, since we did not spend too much time chatting that night. She was a busy person that night, you bet. But I do not think she will. That's really ok with me though. Sometimes people just get across each other in the intersection, stopping and chatting just because the traffic light happened to be red. Then people moved on. Hopefully, I had learned something from diverse life of people. No master design, maybe failuer in judgmental mind, but so what? I only hope I would be that cool in my real life as what I tried to convey in this blog.

Some wrap up for today. I fixed two bikes today. I think I enjoyed these manual laborings. However, my rationality told me I should read or write so that I would seem more intellegent and get better job and higher pays. I wonder whether being a failure could eventually make me happy, for example, fixing bike the whole day for a living.

I also finished a book called "Massachusetts, California, Timbuktu", by Stephanie Rosenfeld, today. I got this book in Mars during a tutoring session for Upward Bound. I was bored and accidentally picked up the book from the bookshelf. And I just loved it. For some reason, this book just provoked so many thoughts, about my mom and myself. The ending was a little disappointing, because nothing seemed to be resolved. However, when I really think about it, it is so true. I thought I was moving forward, but actually I was just stepping on the same spot.

Talking to people calmed me down. Really, my internal thoughts sometimes could overwhelm me, and talking to people or doing sports give me a break from that. So that's it.

My Grandpa: Yiayia

I am going to finish off my family series by blogging about my grandpa. Although there is another candidate, my sister, to blog about, I find I have nothing to say about her. She is a good person, but beyond that, I just do not know her at all. I do not want to do injustice to who she is, so I just skip her altogether.

Just like my Grandma, whom I call "Niangniang", my grandpa is also not my real grandpa. To be precise, he is my real grandma's brother-in-law. I call him "Yiayia". If I have to summarize with one long phrase, I will say "Yiayia" is a person I used to hate when he was alive and now began to understand the appreciate, although a little bit too late.

Why I hated Yiayia is a little unclear now. When time passes by, people tend to selectively remember all the good memories while tossing away the bad ones. This presents a delimma to me. Shall I "objectively" reconstruct my memories? If yes, how much is doing just to the reality? Well, I have to give up on pursuing a pure objectivity in order to write the following blog. It is up to my readers to selectively believe or discount my memories.

Yiayia was an able person. Before the Communist Party took the power, he owned several texitle factories and had a couple of real estate properties. He should be labelled as "capitalist" after 1949, but somehow he "voluntarily" surrender his properties to the government and became a small official of "United Front". I guess he must be smart, otherwise how did he know to swing with political wings and emerge intact. Of course, Yiayia had some hard time during the Cultural Revolution, a fate you would not be able to escape if you were a capitalist in some part of your life. But he was all right in the end and retired honorably in the 1980s.

Yiayia was tall and handsome. He dressed in suit, though cheap, most of the time when he was healthy. I believe he knew that he was good-looking and very confident about it. Even when he was old, he still had black hairs well combed, a rarity in China. This must have facilitate him in business earlier, but it also helped him with a personable style in social interactions. People liked him, probably a lot. When I was a little kid, I liked him too. He would walk me in the street, go to parade, have a sun-bath in the colding morning, watch a movie, buy comic books. At a time when my parents were either too poor or too stingy to spend much on children, Yiayia was my refuge. When I was too little to understand how hard the money was earned in my town, Yiayia protected me from learning the hard reality too early. He had the magic of fulfilling all my requests, although I believed my requests were probably modest. By the way, one historical moment was that Yiayia had the first TV in the neighborhood. It was a 9-inch black-and-white. I remember the first night, we took the tv in the frontyard and it was packed like a small movie theatre. Yiayia got an amplifier for the TV, which made the screen look bigger but distort the picture.

I have blogged about my parents. No bad feelings, but my parents were timid and conservative. In comparison, Yiayia was everything my parents weren't. Yiayia was adventurous and did not fear about anything. I did not learn much from him, sadly, but his presence made a HUGE different in my life, a conclusion becoming clearer and clearer as I grow up. He isolated me from all the stresses typical in Chinese households. (Look at my sister, who lived with my parents. She was also timid and conservative, afraid of negative comments and always complaining. For her, dreams were a luxury that never comes true. For me, I am still dreaming even now.) Yiayia must loved me. He and Niangniang never had their own children. This probably made me receive a disproporationately large share from motherly and fatherly treatment from them.

Then I began to grow up. Everything changed. I became very critical of everything. I viewed Yiayia as an oppressive figure in the household. He always bossed Niangniang around. Niangniang was to go shopping, cook, clean and decorate the house, and he just sat there reading newspapers and watching TVs. Niangniang believed that's her fate of the marriage, and I tried to "educate" her to believe otherwise. In retrospect, Yiayia probably lifted Niangniang out of a hard life and offered her a life of middle class for the rest of her life. It might be justified to say that Niangniang was graceful and wanted to return the favor. People were limited by their times, as now i know. When when I just began to rebel, I hate that so much that I began to hate Yiayia. I thought he was just lazy and fool Niangniang into a subordinate position. An selfish reason also emerged. I wanted Niangniang's attention, but Yiayia was my competitor. I wanted to watch TV, but Yiayia often wanted to watch another channel.... Ok, that's all the reasons I have about why I hated him. I admit that they were so insignificant, but I surely did not give them a thought. As I would say, I was also trapped by my times.

The situation deteriorated. After I went to middle schools, I became more firm about my world view and tried to debate with Yiayia, unsuccessfully of course. Then I stopped talking to him altogether. I feel I want to cry now. If you want me to name one of the biggest regrets in my whole life, it is not about my unfruitful love episodes or waving decisions about my futures, it is this. If my life could be repeated again and that I am allow to change one thing, that is it. I should've talked to Yiayia. I am so sorry, Yiayia.

Yiayia passed away in 1998. It was a winter morning, when I was at home during my sophomore winter break. He was sick for a while and had several surgeries. While I was doing something, Niangniang shouted, "Songhua, your Yiayia passed away." I did not feel anything that time. I just followed Niangniang's instruction to approach his bed, held him up and change this funeral clothes. He was a stiff as a piece of wood. I hadn't look at him closely for a while, but now I noticed that he was so skinny. His face contained little muscle or fat. I could see the structure of bones underneath the skin. All the ailments took his livelihood away for a while, and now he finally was gone. I did not cry then, and did not cry for several days. I guess people must've thought I was weird. I thought so too. The funeral came. I dressed up in the line, looked down to his dead body. Memories began to come back and I realized that's the last time I saw him, dead or alive. I started to cry so hard, as if I had never cried for a person dear to me before.

As like my dad, I believe Yiayia was also trapped in a wrong era or place. Without the context, you can easily believe he was a middle-class person in the US. He was cool, at least when he was young. He liked to socialize and nice to neighbors. He grew a large variety of flowers and his knowledge about them were not common for an urban resident. During the spring festival, he liked to try different types of fireworks, even the most dangerous ones.

I am writing this blog on a mission: to finish the family series and to understand myself better by digging on the family history. The finish on Yiayia sounds perfect, because it persents many ironies to me. He was the role model that I should've grow up to be, but I never managed to learn much from him. He was the one I hated and loved in an alternate fashion, the reason of which was still elusive to comprehend. When he was alive, I was at a battle with him; and when he was gone, I realized that I was the biggest loser in the battle.

My life is full of irony; compared to the ironies with Yiayia, however, everything else is insignificant. If I really learn something from the relationship with Yiayia, it is this. Taking care of the people who care about me. Human being is lonely in the root, and that's why friendship or love is overvalued, for a good reason. I used to take the caring for granted, as if I deserved all the attention simply because I am smart or I achieve things. That's all bullshits. Being lonely for quite a while, I realize that, only too late. Just think about the time when I stopped to talk to Yiayia. How did he feel? Did he feel betrayed, disappointed, or depressed?

This is the first blog ever that makes me cry when I am writing it. I know, I know. It did not help to change what I did and how hurtful it was to him. When I am writing it, the firework came. it was the eve of Independence day. I watched the firework, thinking it might be your shining smiles up there. it is as colorful as your life, as briliant as your mind, quickly disappearing in the sky, as if reminding me that you were gone, probably too quick for me to appreciate your existence. Well, that's life. Blogging will not send a message to an Internet God who deliver news to all souls, and my regret is just like a sigh in a sea of shoutings, soon to be forget without a trace. But does it make a difference to me? Yes. I never realize that I am so regretable about not talking to you until I wrote it down here. I hope you had forgiven me before or would forgive me now. But it does not matter any more. It follows with the biggest irony of tonight: My regret does not change a damn thing for him, but it did make me feel better, as if I was sorting through the jungle of my life. Is it selfish after all? That's a million-dollar questions without an answer. Maybe it is, but Yiayia, I hope you will forgive me again on this. Inreturn, I want to be a person like you: adventurous, generous and unfearful. That way, your gifts would live on, and I would be a better person too. A better person, indeed. This is probably what you saw in me when I was little anyway. After some unnecessary detour, I hope I am finally back on track.

a short notice

I have been weirded out by some recent events, so I just want to set the record straight. Remember in one of the blogs I said that I had my love interest? Well, it is no longer the case, a feeling that probably emerged since June 8th, and comes to full formation in my mind in the past several days. Just in case that I have not make it clear in my behaviors. I tried to tell it today, but never found a right moment.
To explain it might take some pages, so I opt not to write them here. However, one thing is sure: Expectation for a return of love affection is gone for good, but nothing else is changed. I like the way it is right now. Meeting new people, indeed.

Father's Day

My Dad is a difficult person to blog about, because he always has a mask so thick that I do not know how he feels most of the time. His name is Decheng by the way. If I have to use one phrase to summarize him, it would be “wasted genius”. If I can be regarded as smart, my dad’s gene must contribute 90% (sorry, mom, but it is the truth). However, my dad was born in a very different era, when jobs were assigned, when marriage was not based on love but on economic calculation, when family responsibility overtook personal freedom. In that time, genius was easily wasted. The reason? Well, it is hard to say, but my theory is that when you are smart intellectually, you are retarded socially. When a society focused on family/community rather than individual development, smart people are screwed. My dad numbed his feeling as a self protection, so that he would escape the boring secular life and breathe a fresh air in intelligence on his own. I am lucky that I am out of there.

So from early on, my dad became my role model with a strange twist: I want to be as smart as my dad as well as anything that he is not. My dad used to give me question set beyond my grade, and I took on it without a sweat. But after a while, I began to question, “what’s the point?” If everything would lead to a life just like my dad’s, I would go crazy. So even I was so good at math, physics and chemistry, I hated the prospect of a life that just repeats my dad’s. That’s part of the reason why I tried to switch to sociology. I did not know what sociology was that time, but it was a rational choice for me that time. I thought taking a risk was at least better than to have my life following a boring blueprint. I am still not sure whether my choice is a good one, until today. Sometimes I miss the time when my dad asked to solve a complicated math problem. It was my golden age, when intellectual pursue does not attach to material gain, and I had fun just out of solving the question, rather than expecting the tangible benefit that might come along. And I do not know what my dad would think of my choice: a betrayal of family tradition or a fulfillment of a path that he himself never got a chance to follow?

Anyway, I took joy of beating my dad in any possible way. He is so good at chess that I never had a chance to beat him, so I gave up trying. He taught me to play “go”, which I later got so good at that I could beat him easily. Then I gave up “go”. I guess beating my dad is one of the main goals why I perfected my “go” skills in the first place. For math (my dad was a math teacher), I began to feel bored only after I felt I could solve the questions that my dad could not. Only after beating my dad I would question, “What’s the point? What else is possible?” That’s when I tried to pursue a life beyond my dad’s shadow. However, I am still somehow in his shadow. He goes to library a lot, just to read random books and magazines. I am a same nerd. I do not know why I go to library so often, but when I have nothing to do in the end of the day, library is the default. I just do not know why, and I want to contribute that to my dad.

My dad never felt comfortable in social interactions. He is book-smart without any street wisdom. He does not understand that people should act differently in different social situations. He would approach an informal conversation in an extended family gathering the same way that he would engage to an academic conference. For that, he would be laughed at. The laughing is never in a bad way, but it makes me feel uneasy. It taught me two important lessons. One, I would try my best to be socially effective. Two, I would respect people who are just different from the mainstream society. Behind an awkward conversation is usually an amazing personality. I hope that I have taken that to heart.

Some snapshot of my moments with my dad. The first thing emerges is that time when my dad taught me to ride a bike. We were in the big block of grass, and my dad would tell me that he was holding the back seat to stabilize the bike. But sometime he would just let it go without my noticing. But when I noticed, I would be scared to fall. After a while, I got much better. But for some weird reason, I always fell after one circle on the grass. I guess we shared some laugh together that time. He called me as too “Jiao Yao”, a reason why I fell after one good circle, and I was amused by the different ways that I can fell and by his strange explanation.

Moments like this were scarce though. Most of my interaction with my dad happened in the small apartment, where everyone was uptight. The small space led to more friction than physical intimacy. Both my dad and I had a tendency to go out for a brief escape. He goes to library. And I went to Beijing and then the US. I wonder whether he had a legitimate reason to blame me to escaping from a dysfunctional household, pursuing a bright future while leaving behind a mess which ironically nurtured me before.

Well, this blog is supposed to be about my dad, but I ended up talking about me. As usual, you would say. But this one really comes with a reason. Although from the beginning I want to be unlike my dad, the premise is that I am must alike him. I am so scared of being like him in the future so I escape from everything he is, intellectually and physically. In some way, my dad and I embody two different possibilities of the same story. We probably had the same genetic endowment, but I was born in a very different time with new opportunities, and I could look up to my dad to take whatever I like and avoid the pitfalls that he experienced. I hope he is proud of me now.

My dad is getting old. His white hair is dominating his head now. He is not as quick as before. He began to have bad memories. He wants to learn English and computers, but he is no longer a quick learner as he wants to believe. He is also a little overwhelmed by all the changes after reforms, probably a little easy about how young people could disregard families and communities to pursue personal development. Maybe I can eventually beat him in chess some day. Happy father’s day, dad. Thanks for your genetic contribution, and please be proud how far I can go with it.

Healthy

I checked my blood pressure and Cholesterol today, just before my cardinal care expires for the summer. Before I went, I was a little wary about how much my health might have worsen since I ate so much fast food. But it turns out my result is great. Blood pressure is still a little bit high, but doctor said nothing to worry about. I guess exercise does pay off.
I went to a master swimming class today. It is so much fun. I might just pay a monthly due to join the club and then I will have more flexible time swimming. I especially like mornign time now.

One year anniversary

I have been blogging for exactly one year today. Life is a circle. I started the blog when I moved out of the co-op last year. Now I am out again, feeling unsettled again. The new co-op I am living this summer is much different from the previous one, and I again feel uncomfortable since I have to make new friends and get used to the unusual dirtiness all over again.

Identity

First, I want to post something written on May 28th.

"This blog is created on May 28th, but I intend to publish it after June 8th.

Just finished a nice walk and conversation with D. I do not know what get into me, but I feel sad now. I might just get an unofficial rejection. I guess that's the reason. She also asked me why I hadn't initiated phone calls recently, and I gave her a selfless reason like that, "I did not call you because I did not interrupt from your work."

But now I find I actually have a more selfish reason. I began to get a feeling that things wouldn't work out between us in the end. If I do not initiate phone calls, I could rationalize the eventual rejection by thinking, "hey, I've never tried hard in the first place." I do not know whether it is gonna make me feel hurt less by intentionally cheating myself. But if I really think about it, that's my only chance to keep my own well-being intact. So as selfish as it could be, I tolerate my selfish behavior."

So here I go again. These days I couldn't be happier, I have to admit. But I also know there is something still bothering me. I do not think May 28th's blog really gets to the core, so I here will try again. Two issues, in general:

1. D. would sometimes say, "why are you so nice?" The correct answer probably is "I cannot help." Despite my effort of presenting the real me, I have to say that D. still brings about the best out of me, a rather rationally selfish person. I do not the reason though. Maybe I do not want to disappoint her expectations...... But you know what? Being able to be a good person makes me feel good, but I just do not know how much of it is my nature, and how much of it is my intentional effort.

2. Identity. I guess now I really do not care how to categorize my relationship with D. Whatwever it is, I have a good time with her (Today, we just played some sort of kid toy to build an airplane and a car before she took off. I like to be physically close to her and talking about nothing serious). However, it weirds me out when I was in her dorm earlier today. When I saw her dorm mates, I just did not know how to act any more. Who am I in relationship to her? I guess if I can put it in a category, it would be easier to act it out. But I just cannot. I used to act as "friend", but today I saw the guy across the hall for the fourth time in a month, the guy who almost dialed 911 when he saw me the first time wandering in the hallway. The guy looked at me, not saying anything, but I could tell his unwelcoming attitude.
All of a sudden, I felt much out of place. I told myself, I do not belong to here, and I know no other friends here, and I want to get out of here as soon as possible. All of a sudden, I questioned why I want to date an undergrad to begin with. It is quite stupid if I cannot handle these trivial but awkward social interaction.

So these are the things bothering me right now. I thought it diffucult to sort them out, but after reading the draft, I know I know exactly what these issues are.

Fridge Clean-up Dude-elected

Let me get back to the blog. I haven't seriously blogged for a while. I expected to continue on my friend Mayre, but she never called me back. So the sequel would be a little delayed. But I have something else to say.
First, I am re-elected as Fridge Clean-up Dude for soc department. People do not like even to run for it, but I do. It only takes an hour a quarter to clean the fridge, but you get name recognition. The best part: you can legitimately send an email to the whole soc list and bug everyone to take care of their food in the fridge. I just love it. Besides, as you will see in the following, I am having fun along the way. The whole email is drafted during my run today. I guess I am a funny man after all.

"Hi:

So, the main idea is: please take care of your food before you leave for summer vacation. Because, you know what, I am again your fridge clean-up dude! It's time for summer cleaning.

If you want to kill some time other than taking care of your food, please read on my acceptance speech.

**********************************

After getting an imaginary concession phone call from my solo competitor, I accept to be your fridge clean-up dude-elect. I want to say to you,"The voice of sociology is heard today. Now I have earned the capital, and it is my style to spend it right away.

It was a rough year. After the hunt for weapon of mass decomposition went nowhere, several food-stealing scandels rocked my administration, and several of my old friends pointed out that I went to bars drinking instead of showing up for my TA service, I am elected again. I cannot think of any person in recent history who pulled out such a giant victory.

Some of you already asked me about my secrets for success. Well, let me answer it here once and for all. As my strategy guru Victor Thompson put it, it is all about turning out the "sunless belt" votes (that is, the basement block). No clean-up dudes in my memory won election without carrying the sunless belt. Deep down, it is all about value. Whether you value a windowless office, or prefer an office with a window, a view, or even a balcony (I mean you, the elitists up there!)

I am planning a summer offensive right now. With no pressure for re-election next year, I am going to do something radical. I know some of you are planning to read your dissertation non-stop in the kitchen to filibuster my action. Well, you have had your days before. This time, I
won't allow that. My nuclear option right now is to get rid of it altogether.

So label your food or throw it away. I am planning to inch in block by block in the fridge, even in lack of heavy armor on my face to fend off food odor. And by the way, you do not want your food to show up on the cover of an obscure English magazine, do you?

God bless.

Songhua"

unexpected email

I got an unexpected email yesterday. I was totally taken off-guard. Damn, now I realize that I do not really understand human beings, including myself, at all. I was so stressed. This blog is not supposed to make sense, because I am not willing to put anything concrete here.
But tonight, we are going to Hope's house in SF!

My friend: Mayre

Hey, now I am here to blog a new friend. Actually, it is a very old friend. Let me call her Mayre, which is not so different from her real name. I met Mayre five years ago when I just arrived here. She was a volenteer for International student center. By chance, we became English partners.

She is a woman in 40s or 50s. I never asked for her real age though. Never married. Some traits of her made me think she might be homosextual, but again, I do not have any substantial evidence to back it up. She was a strong woman, no doubt about it. She told me that she took a bus to travel around the country with little money in her pocket after high school. She did not seem to be employed for a long time. She worked by herself as a professional organizer (whatever it means). Ironically, her room was always in a mess. And smelt bad, probably from burning too many candles. She had a big car, so I guess that she was quite independent (at least she can move herself). Last time she moved, she actually asked for my help.

Of course, she gave me more help than I did to her. We met maybe once a week during my first year or so. She showed me around nearby towns. I sincerely appreciated it, as much as I appreciated all the English classes offered by EFS. When I needed a big car to move, her car was always available.

Hey, you might ask, why I think of blogging her now? Here is the reason. We have lost contact for three years. The other day I was randomly googling a lot of people, and got some hit with her name. It turned out she had a presentation in a nearby town today. So after dropping a friend off the airport, I showed up before her presentation. She did not age too much, probably because she was old when i first met her. She is still in her usual colorful clothes. I went forward and asked her whether she still remembered me. It only took her a second. She first looked puzzled, then shouted, "Oh, Cheeky Monkey! How can I forget?" You know, one day four years ago, when we were walking aroung Los Altos downtown, we passed a shop with a cheeky monkey logo on the window. So I asked what it was all about, and I guessed she had a hard time explaining to me. I was surprised that she remembered this one. But again, hey, I remember it too. She then introduced me to one of her friends. I can tell that she had mentioned me to the friend before. I had to leave early, so I gave her my name card, and got one from her. She name card still looked cheap, exactly like the one she gave me before, except with a new cellphone number. I promised to take her out for dinner some time and catch up with life. This blog about Mayre will be continued after our meeting.

I do not often use negative words describing my friends in my blogs. But you may have noticed that I have used words like "weird", "cheap". I want to make a point here. She is the last one I will make friends with if I had alternative options when I just arrived. My selection of friends are very judgmental, trying to achieve maximal returns with minimal investment of time. However, I am happy to know Mayre, maybe just because she had helped me out before, or maybe she gave me an example of what it is like to be lowly-educated, to be single in the 50s, to have no mainstream career whatsoever, to be poor. To be honest, I care about her and hope she does well. I do not think there is much I can do to return the help she gave me, but my showing up in her presentation is one other thing she will remember for a long time besides "cheeky monkey". (To be continued after I had dinner with Mayre).

Another short one

I want to dedicate this blog to a great history professor: David Kennedy. I sit through his class on and off this quarter: American History in 20th Century. Today is his last lecture. I noticed there were a lot of old people in the back of the classroom. They later turned out to be professors from history department. In the end of the lecture, the chair of history department went forward and announced that we were David's last group of students because he is retiring. I am so honored.
For me, his lectures are the best lectures Stanford has ever offered me. He embodied my ideal of an intellectual: smart, reserved, confident, and with excellent abilities of communicating ideas with lay people. For a while, I thought he might descent from the famous Kennedy family. After a couple of googling, that might not be true. But whatever, thanks for a great class, David.

Damn. There is nothing I can do about it!

Ok, I did not expect that i will blog that soon, but I have to. Here is the reason.
Remember that girl that started all my troubles two quarters ago? I met her today in the library. I took a seat, and found some papers about China's politics sitting next to me. It turned out to be her seat an hour later. She was surprised too. Then She found an excuse to move her seat to somewhere else.
Damn, it really pissed me off. I put up my best smily face when I talked to her, and I do not think the previous episode still matter even slightly for me. But in her mind, I am still the old sketchy grad student. Most frustrating is that there is nothing I can do about it! I admit that I had my mistakes dealing with the whole thing before. That's the price I am paying for them right now. Sigh......

Blog

I have to admit that I haven't done much work since the defense. But, hey, maybe I deserve the break. I feel quite busy every day, but I also feel I am doing a lot of random things without a clear direction. If life is supposed to be built up towards a goal with every day as a building brick, I do not know what I am after.
Anyway, happy birthday to my friend who I know is reading my blog. Originally I thought of mailing a surprise gift (a gift not stolen from Universal Studio shop, if you know what I mean), but then I found I lost your address. An email of "happy birthday" struck me as too cheap. You know I am sincere in blogs.
I just attended a wedding this afternoon. I am so happy for the groom, a nice guy indeed. The best moment is when he hug his parents, who flew in from China two weeks ago. He cried, and I found my eyes were wet too. I was thinking, "What was the last time I hug my parents, or my grandma? Will I cry the next time I hug them?" They are getting old so fast, and I am living so far away. I do not really know how many hugs have left. I do not even know what's the next time I am going to visit them.
There is a lot of bullshits in church. First, the things pastor said are condescending (I do not even want to mention his sexist comments). Why everyone should live the life under god's instruction? That's the irony of America. The strange bedfellow of individualism and religiousness. The improbable combination of rebelling against authority and obeying an imaginary god. Second, I read half of the first page of bible today. It is well written and deserve to be on new york times best-seller list based on its literary quality. But, man, the content is such stupid nonsense!
But I have to say I like other aspects of church. The best part of church is singing with other people. The second best is its space and architecture. The third best? Well, hard to come up with another one. I guess church does not impress me too much after all.

pass my defense!

yeah, I've passed my defense.

Spring Migration!

All of a sudden, the performance is finished. My brain is blank right now, and I do not know what I am supposed to feel. I know so many amazing people through dancing, although none of them would make the list of my 26 blogged friends. I just know them too little. While I was stretching today, I asked Sophie, "Hey, Sophie, I have a question for you. Why are you so happy all the time?" It is my favorite question for now.
Excitement aside, I feel tired. I think three days of dancing really hit my limit. Now I only want to lying on the bed, letting every inch of my muscles and bones touch the surface of the mattress. My butt hurt too.
I decided to put a break on my blog. The blogs of May are all great, but they are very emotionally draining to write, especially the mother's day piece. I felt great that I finished it, but now I also know I need some time to put myself together in post-spring-migration life. Blogs wouldn't help in this. See ya!

Mother's day

Ok, I have to say I have hyped up this blog of my mom, and I am afraid that it wouldn't match the expectation any more. But I will try.

I just called home. My mom is out and my dad is in a spring trip with his colleagues. So I talked to the nanny for 1 minute and then hang up. Really, nothing to say to my mom anyway. I wouldn't even mention "Mother's Day" at all, because she just does not care.

Let's start to describe my mom. My mom is Meiying Bao (Oh, I just revealed the answer of my secret question for my banking account. If you dare, please steal my identity:-). She was a doctor in a state-owned factory before a stroke forced her into retirement. Although I am never close to my parents, I have to admit that my mom is a nice and warm person, at least before the stroke. I was very weak when I was a kid, so my mom always brought medicine from the factory for me, free of charge. One medicine made my teeth yellow. I often played with the medicine and her equipment when I got a chance. But to be honest, since I grew up with my grandma, I never got too much chance with my parents, so my memory about them was very very vague.

I think my parents were very traditional. They probably followed the crowd all the time and expected their children to do the same. They were not socially capable. When all relatives got together during festivals, I felt they were taken advantage of in various occations. My relatives were not evil, but they would laugh at my dad's booksmart and my mom's low capability of getting things done. My parents seemed getting used to it, and I do not think it really hurt them. But it is the reason why I never enjoyed the get-together of my big family. I do not know when it all started, but from very early on, I told myself, when I grow up, I want to stand up for my parents, so nobody would laugh at them for them minor flaws. Well, I guess it sows the seed for all my ambitions of upward mobility.

One story: It happened when I was about junior high school student, and my sister was high school student. We were horsing about the apartment, and we found some thick "balloons". We put a lot of water in them. They looked like rubber balls that were able to change shape freely. We threw them around, and I forgot whether we broke one or two. But we had a lot of fun playing with them, thinking they were the best balloon ever. When my parents came back, they were sorta mad, but did not say anything more. Several points: 1) these balloons were actually condoms. I realized that when I relived those old memories a couple of years ago. 2) My sister was a high school student, but she did not know that. I did not know either. You can see the sex education in my family, or in most Chinese families, sucks. 3) My parents were having sex back then. I do not think they are any more. They were in a stage of de facto seperation for quite some time, probably since my mom's unexpected stroke back in 1995. Somehow, I always had fear that they would get divorce, but amazingly they got through for so many years. I wonder whether they really thought of this option before. Maybe not, maybe yes. But on the other hand, maybe there was something I was never able to understand. For example, my mom liked to complain and was stingy, and my dad was impatient and tried to escape from the real world. Were these traits just perfect for each other? I do not know. Here is the best explanation I can come up with: they tolerate this loveless marriage, because love is never in their expectation when they got married. Years of frictions just made them to take for granted that it is the life all about, and they convinced themselves that they would have to make it through because there is no alternatives.

I would stop psycho-analyse my parents here. The least I can say is that I do not really understand them. Maybe I've never tried. But do I love them? That is a tough tough question. Obviously, I do not want to stay with them for more than 1 month. That's for sure. But do I love them? I do not know how to answer them. Let me start with a story. Back in 1995. One day, I suddenly got to know that my mom had a stroke when she was writing a prescription for a worker in the factory. She was hauled to the emergency room. I biked like crazy to home, only seeing my dad biking like crazy to the hospital, carrying all the daily necessities for my mom. I kept biking. Something choatic ran through my mind, but I cannot remember what any more. Some sort of music, I think. I then biked to the hospital, seeing my mom lying on the bed lifeless. I cried. I was so used to see my mom walking like a bull, carrying big shopping bags from the farmer market to home. Now she was just helplessly lying in the bed, calm like a baby. My dad talked to me, and I cried more, but tried to stop, tried to show my dad that I was a big boy and could handle anything. My tear just kept coming out. For the first couple of days, my mom couldn't even recognize the most familiar faces. I asked one of my good friends to read some of my favorite stories (Maybe it is only one story) and I recorded them. I believed that these stories would stimulate her brain so her intellegence would get back to normal. Of course, nobody really appreciated my effort (except my friend who recorded it). Sadly, my mom never got back to normal. I could feel that she was quite a different person completely. To say the least, her self-esteem was evaperated. She used to be so proud of being independent; but now she had to rely on all the medicine to bring down the blood pressure and other people to take care of her. I was so sorry for her.

I do not know whether the above story tells anything to answer the question of "whether I love my mom". But on the flip side, who cares about these big questions? Details of the life are much more subtle and interesting than any "yes"/"no". So please allow me to be vague on this question, even on the Mother's Day. Sorry, mom, I cannot put up with an half-assed "I love you" even on a Mother's Day. But here is some thing I can say: I remember so many things about you. I remember your awkwardness towards me: you wanted to be close to me, but since I grew up with my grandparents, you never succeeded. I remember your harsh criticism towards my sister. I remember you picked on my dad over small errors. I remember your bad cooking skills, but you tried. I remember your able body before the stroke. I remember your self-depreciation after the stroke, a strategy to make your self-esteem hurt less. I remember you still worked after retirement with your sick body, earning 6 dollars for half a day, touring different middle schools to carry out medical examinations. I remember sometimes I worried about your safety, because I know sometimes you just walked out of the apartment unannounced, making other people worrying about you. Maybe you tried to reclaim your independence, anouncing to the world that you still had an able body. You just never gave up, a real fighter. If I inherited any thing from you, I think that's it.

I guess I lost myself in all these details, and no conclusions can be drawn today. My mom is just a good person with numerous flaws, and I am not sure how I really feel about her, in the past, in the present or in the futre. But if I keep exploring the life as it comes, I will figure it out eventually. In the meanwhile, Happy Mother's Day, Mom. I know you do not care, but I just want to say that, and there is nothing you can do about it, just like the tape of stories I gave you ten years ago.

O.K. and a friend (Limela)

O.K.....

Let me blog another friend today. First, I feel like blogging tonight. Second, I got an email from her this morning. Third, I wrote back to her tonight, feeling that is a perfect time to blog about her.

For anyone who follows my personal narratives, you have already encountered Limela in Jan 25th blog. But here is more history. She is a high school classmate of mine. We did not talk much during high school at all. As you all know by know, I was quite nerdy back then, trying hard to get ahead in exams while rarely looked at girls with straight eyes. She was quiet, smart and had an appealing personality, seemingly well-liked by those boys who were good at sports but not academics, but no scandelous rumors as far as I know.

We did not become friends until our senior year in college, when she came to Beijing for a language school. Since she knew only few people in Beijing, the nerd-back-in-school became her helper in finding a cheap apartment. My serior year was sorta crazy, since I knew I would go to the USA and tried to find multiple jobs to pay my way across the Pacific Ocean. I took two jobs and one time I went sleepless for 48 hours because the day shift and night shift went together. It was really nice to have a person from home to talk to, recounting whereabout of our old friends. That time I was also acting in a play, and she came to see my rehearsal. After the real performance, we sat on grass in the university. She brought a bottle of wine for celebration. I guess we got quite close during my last summer in China. One day before I departed for the US, we celebrated her birthday. Sorry, I even forgot whether I gave her a gift or if yes, what gift. But I remember she gave me a gift: a bottle of soil. She said it is to let me remember my root is in China no matter where I go. The next day, I left.

Sometimes I have to think about a lot of "what if"s. What if she came to Beijing in her Junior year? what if I did not have to be admitted into a US university? Is it possible to have a romantic relationship with her? Of course, history has no alternative. I moved on to pursue my study in US, without being bothered by any hypothetical world (I guess that's why I had the feeling as recorded on Jan 25th. Some buried memory probably found its way to sneak by). However, we still communicated with emails, probably 3-4 emails a year. I know she first got a job in our homtown, then quit the job and went to France to study for one year, and now she is back and find a new job in our hometown. I am quite impressed by her decision of going to France, because most people would never have made this kind of decision. Anyway, in the last email I got from her yesterday, she seems happy with her current job and her friends. I am happy for her too.

I know blogger.com is blocked in China. That's why I blogged about her on Jan 25th. I have numerous crushes on girls since my puberty, but I rarely proceed to puruse, because I know sometimes it is just impossible, sometimes just for fear of rejection. Well, tonight, I emailed her a zip file of my this year's blog, asking her to read it matter-of-factly if she want to. Two major reasons stands out: 1. I have my love interest now, and she knows that. So my blog wouldn't be misunderstood, I believe. 2. My friend's comment one day really hit me. I think she is right all along. Of course, I gave a half-assed "thank-you" a couple of blogs before. Now my action is a real "thank-you" to her. Oh, maybe there is a third reason. 3. My recent experiences really taught me the value of being honest and being a straighter talker. I want her to be a remote friend back home, for as long as I can, and I guess I try to be honest to her, from now.

Ok, that's my blog today. I need to have a good sleep tonight, because tomorrow, it is my performance night. Next blog is about my mom on May 8th. Happy Mother's Day, mom. I know you are gonna say:"What is the heck with Mother's Day. Get real, son!" Ok, ok, but I am still going to blog you, and there is nothing you can do about it:-)

Dance and others

It has passed midnight already, but I am so happy today that I have to write this post.
I nailed a practice presentation of my dissertation proposal this afternoon. And then I went to a dance rehearsal. Since our piece is the last, we waited until the very end. Eight of us agreed on a joke to "Irisa". That is, in a section of "unison fall" (in which we supposed to run with a falling feeling), we really fell to the ground at the same time. We danced through the rest of piece all smiling, thinking we must have scared "Irisa", who is always asked us not to get injured before the performance. Well, while I am typing this blog, I am still laughing. This joke is THAT good.

Recently my favorite music is "My Immortal" by Evanescence. I put my ipod on "repeat one" and listen to the song everywhere, with the sound almost hitting the maximum. I love the background piano and the female voice, both of which are tragically beautiful.

I decided to give my life a summary today, so I counted the items in my "running box". Into the box I put a random item every time I ran the campus drive. Recently I got a bunch of sea shells from the beach. When the supply lasts, it will all be sea shells now to put in the box. There are 39 items, which means I have run about 156 miles in the past 5 month. It is 6 marathons. I felt I actually ran more than that, and sometimes I must forgot to keep track of it. However, 6 marathons are something I am really proud right now, although they took me 5 months. Thinking about how I started running, I feel how life can be turning around in any unexpected ways. Now I am all happy and feel connected to the people around me all the time. Somehow I feel that my running might be inspired by "Forrest Gump". Maybe it was not how I started, but my experience does fit into Gump's idea: life is a box of chocolate, and I never know what's gonna happen next.