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).