Let me finish it off today. I have been delaying and delaying this post for no reason. Right now I am very tired, but I am determined to not go to sleep until 10pm (to get over the jet lag). So let me just write a little bit.
Every time I travelled back home, I would be touched by people and events. Besides, I had time to think, to reflect, to self-analyze, not like when I am in states where everything is in fast tempo and I tried to convince myself not to overthinking. Some people might call it inspiration. I tend not to think that way.
Yuphen and I began to fight over small things soon after our best time. I still did not figure out why. It was as if both of us wanted the relationship to be somewhat dramatic so that we refused the life's inherited mediocrity. Fighting seemed to spice things up, getting both of us emotionally attached, happy and sorrow, like roller-coaster. What can beat the sweetness of make-up after a big fight?
However, at least for me, the fightings were chipping away the foundation of our relationship. I got very exhausted. I expected relationship to be epically exciting, but soon I realized it was too much for me. Besides, my self-insecurity got the best of me.
I all along knew Yuphen was almost as tall as me. One day I was sorting through party membership application or something and found Yuphen's application. It turned out that she was 4-5 cm taller than me. I did not feel that when we walked together, but in retrospect, she probably wore flat-shoes and slumped her back, as she liked to do. It was a big deal for me then, because all of a sudden I felt I lost the relationship already. I was quite depressed. You know I used to have this habit: when I stressed out, I would write trash on a piece of scrap paper. Yuphen happened to see some of them (as a young couple in love, we shared almost anything). So I confessed. I think she understood me, but she did not think that was a big deal. I, as silly as I was, began to exercise jumps, because urban legend has it that jumping makes a taller person. Accidentally, my physical fitness started from there. I am still a very good jumper in my beloved modern dance. Even when I jog, I tend to jump quite high, not because it is efficient, but just because I can.
That was a small incident, but you can see that my immaturity and self-doubt isn't made for a stable relationship. And finally, we seemed to run out of topics. As all the small jokes and smart talks ran out, we (at least I) realized that the relationship did not really have a good foundation to begin with. I admired her for her elegance, for her hard-working, for her kindness, and she probably like some of my traits. But is that enough? I did not think so then. For a while, I was very annoyed by her obsessiveness, as if it reminded me my worst time with my parents and my Niangniang. My longing for freedom just could not take a back seat, and I thought that might be enough.
The turning point was really around summer, as I realized that I did not think of her as much as the past winter when I was pursuing her liek crasy. Five of my friends visited Beijing with me, and Yuphen and us hanged out a little bit. Our relationship recovered a bit, because now we had a new set of common friends, which meaned some new topics. But it did not last long. On September, I told her I wanted to break up with her. Three days later, I registered for GRE, and the rest is history.
I think the breaking-up was a big shock for her. Since I was quite an introvert person, she probably did not see any signs of its coming. It probably hurt her more than it did to me. But to be honest, it also deeply cut into my self-righteousness. For a while, I had doubt whether I was a good person. That year, when I watched the movie "Saving Private Ryan", when Tom Hanks' charactor stood in front of tombs and asked, "Am I a good person?" my tears were almost non-stoppable in the darkness. I think I related to the movie in a really strange way: when either option is bad, does choosing the more intuitive way makes you a bad person? Since that day, whenever I do something, I have never escaped from asking myself, "Am I a good person?" This question is especially troublesome when I realize what's best for me is not necessarily best for my family. Usually I will just do whatever is best for me, always leaving me with this moral burden to carry.
After the break-up, we promised to still remain friends. But it was harder than we hoped. Today, 8 years after, me still single, she just married. I think we are friends now. Coincidentally, when I peeked at her blog written a couple of days ago, she had a similar sentence "Yes! We are friends!" Just to make it even, I hope she would also some day read this blog of mine. This is my side of story, and I hope very much it is fair for her too.
Of course, I cannot do a full disclosure of the complete chronicles. Some of the events are too small, some of the events are silly and some of them are even embarrassing for me or for her. Just in case Yuphen will be reading this blog, however, I want to make an appointment with her. Some day we should share both sides of the story as much as possible, because I still have some silly things to tell. They are so silly that you will have to laugh at, have to puzzle over, and have to admire what a beautiful thing the young love is.
Saturday, November 25, 2006
My parents
I think I know my parents very little, because I did not live with them too much. I probably put most I knew in my previous blog entries about them already. However, the good thing is that I am knowing them more and more. As I gained the financial indepednence and called my own shots all the time, they began to let down their guard and allowed me to peek into their psychology. Also, as I understand human relationship better than before, they can barely escape my scrutiny. By the way, this blog is in no way to criticize or evaluate them. Rather, I try to describe who they are.
First of all, my parents like to save money. It made evolutionary sense, because the past always left traits on you, genetically or mentally. My parents used to be quite poor. After the reform, they were not able to take new economic opportunities and were further left behind. They just purchased an apartment with all their savings, so they felt even poorer. If I gave them some money, they would just save it, feeling happy and peaceful with the money in the bank. I sometimes felt bad for them, but well, the life style could not be changed over night. It actually took me a while to feel comfortable spending money beyond necessities. Like father, like son.
My parents are not good at parenting (according to US standards, of course). Now my sister has this daughter, and it kept my parents occupied. I think my parents must be very lonely before. The little girl really could cheer them up. However, my parents often like to yell at the girl, or do things against her will (I still remember that my dad used to like wipe my face with a hot towel after meal. I did not hate the hot towel, but I hated to allow other people to dictate my schedule and habits). My mom barely smiled at her (to be fair, after the stroke, my mom rarely smiled at all), and my dad was always impatient. When the little girl cried, my dad would tune himself out by murmuring words to himself, as if by talking to himself, the crying no longer bothered him. Fortunately, my brother-in-law is a great father, so the little girl actually is doing quite well. One day last week, my mom commented on my dad, "you are more patient to her than to Songhua before." My dad said, "yeah, that's because I was not retired that time." I said to myself silent, oh my god, I was lucky that I did not grew up with you two. Hey, no hard feeling.
I can tell my parents are getting older. My dad gained some weight, and my mom walked even slower. The new apartment is on the first floor, and it gave my mom a very hard time. I feel bad for that. My dad did not get the visa earlier this year, and that might be a downer for him. But overall, my going abroad worked out great for them. Hear me out, because I do not believe that is my self-rationalization. At least for my dad, now he had a lot of events to attend and also was learning English. He had a lot of "mianzi" because I am earning dollars. And some bastards who would otherwise never give a shit to a nobody like my dad now tried to maintain good relationship with him, just in case that their children need to go to the States and need me to take care of them a bit. For my mom, she would otherwise worried me so much if I was around (jobs, money, girfriend, marriage, children), but now she only need to worry maybe once a while, as her target son is so far away as if the worry no longer felt real any more.
My parents are very responsible and not very selfish at all. They take care of Niangniang very well (though sometimes they do not want to spend too much money). They have a great attitude towards life and death. I was surprised to hear that they can discuss their parents' death with great ease, as if they were talking about a TV pregram. it could be their emotional detachment, but it also could be that they tried to desensitize me with the topic so that a possible Niangniang passing away would not be a big blow to me. I would like to thank them if their intention is the latter.
As I know better, I try harder to keep them happy. For example, this time I made an effort to stay at home for meals as much as possible. That makes them happy. But overall, I viewed them as distant, and they viewed me as distant too. One night, they came in my room and asked about my new job. I was not very interested in talking about it, so I just kept doing my work and whatever. They ended up talking between themselves for twenty minutes and then left. I think I am a bad son.
Two final thoughts:
1. When I was in Shanghai yesterday, my friend tried to analyze my personality. I think he is right by saying that I have a combination of liberal individualism and moral self-righturousness (I summarized it with my own words). I think the individualism is because I grew up with my grandparents, but the morality, honesty, responsibleness are probably from my parents. If that is true, I really get the best of both worlds.
2. For some reasons, I really want to have a boy myself now. It is difficult to be a parent. I do not think my parents are good at parenting, but maybe I am just being hypocritical here. Though I do not know when I can prove it one way or another.
First of all, my parents like to save money. It made evolutionary sense, because the past always left traits on you, genetically or mentally. My parents used to be quite poor. After the reform, they were not able to take new economic opportunities and were further left behind. They just purchased an apartment with all their savings, so they felt even poorer. If I gave them some money, they would just save it, feeling happy and peaceful with the money in the bank. I sometimes felt bad for them, but well, the life style could not be changed over night. It actually took me a while to feel comfortable spending money beyond necessities. Like father, like son.
My parents are not good at parenting (according to US standards, of course). Now my sister has this daughter, and it kept my parents occupied. I think my parents must be very lonely before. The little girl really could cheer them up. However, my parents often like to yell at the girl, or do things against her will (I still remember that my dad used to like wipe my face with a hot towel after meal. I did not hate the hot towel, but I hated to allow other people to dictate my schedule and habits). My mom barely smiled at her (to be fair, after the stroke, my mom rarely smiled at all), and my dad was always impatient. When the little girl cried, my dad would tune himself out by murmuring words to himself, as if by talking to himself, the crying no longer bothered him. Fortunately, my brother-in-law is a great father, so the little girl actually is doing quite well. One day last week, my mom commented on my dad, "you are more patient to her than to Songhua before." My dad said, "yeah, that's because I was not retired that time." I said to myself silent, oh my god, I was lucky that I did not grew up with you two. Hey, no hard feeling.
I can tell my parents are getting older. My dad gained some weight, and my mom walked even slower. The new apartment is on the first floor, and it gave my mom a very hard time. I feel bad for that. My dad did not get the visa earlier this year, and that might be a downer for him. But overall, my going abroad worked out great for them. Hear me out, because I do not believe that is my self-rationalization. At least for my dad, now he had a lot of events to attend and also was learning English. He had a lot of "mianzi" because I am earning dollars. And some bastards who would otherwise never give a shit to a nobody like my dad now tried to maintain good relationship with him, just in case that their children need to go to the States and need me to take care of them a bit. For my mom, she would otherwise worried me so much if I was around (jobs, money, girfriend, marriage, children), but now she only need to worry maybe once a while, as her target son is so far away as if the worry no longer felt real any more.
My parents are very responsible and not very selfish at all. They take care of Niangniang very well (though sometimes they do not want to spend too much money). They have a great attitude towards life and death. I was surprised to hear that they can discuss their parents' death with great ease, as if they were talking about a TV pregram. it could be their emotional detachment, but it also could be that they tried to desensitize me with the topic so that a possible Niangniang passing away would not be a big blow to me. I would like to thank them if their intention is the latter.
As I know better, I try harder to keep them happy. For example, this time I made an effort to stay at home for meals as much as possible. That makes them happy. But overall, I viewed them as distant, and they viewed me as distant too. One night, they came in my room and asked about my new job. I was not very interested in talking about it, so I just kept doing my work and whatever. They ended up talking between themselves for twenty minutes and then left. I think I am a bad son.
Two final thoughts:
1. When I was in Shanghai yesterday, my friend tried to analyze my personality. I think he is right by saying that I have a combination of liberal individualism and moral self-righturousness (I summarized it with my own words). I think the individualism is because I grew up with my grandparents, but the morality, honesty, responsibleness are probably from my parents. If that is true, I really get the best of both worlds.
2. For some reasons, I really want to have a boy myself now. It is difficult to be a parent. I do not think my parents are good at parenting, but maybe I am just being hypocritical here. Though I do not know when I can prove it one way or another.
Niangniang (II)
The whole purpose of this trip was really to see Niangniang for the last time. Though I do not like to admit that to my family, as if saying that would make it real. Niangniang is in a bad shape. She does not have any serious disease, but the body of 86 years old is just like an old machine produce by a state-owned enterprise: once it began to break down, it usually was beyond repair.
Over fives days in my hometown, I went to see her 4 times in the nursing home. Her hair all grey. She had a hard time walking around. She was cold all the time. So skinny that her facial skin barely covered her skull. I had a hard time to holding back my tears. Just imagine that she used to be my greatest protector, but now she will sway in a breeze. But I did not cry. I do not know the reason, but I just did not want to cry in front of her.
I only cried in the darkness in bed during the night before my last visit to her. My mind was like a theatre and my past ran on the stage, every scene with my Niangniang in her younger age. Sometimes she went to the farmer's market for a day's dish, sometimes she help me to fend off school bullies, sometimes she game me money to buy comic books...... I think I got a little sick the second day: my throat felt like burning. Well, maybe it was not because of my cry (I took a run around the town the same night and then took a cold shower). But whatever. Hey, It is my blog, and I make causal connections.
Niangniang now have very bad memories. She will forget things she did a minute ago. I feel very sorry about it, because she has been very proud of her independence all along. Now this pride is eroding, and I can see her giving up to the fate. She knows that her memory is bad, and still struggle to get an up-hand. For example, she wrote a note of "take medicine". Before she has meal, she will ritually take a bowl with bottles of medicine and then cover them with the note. That way, after she finishes the meal, she will be notified that she needs to take the medicine. However, what if she memory goes further downhill so that she would forget the note itself? I feel the day is coming, and I hope my Niangniang will not suffer too much.
She can hardly read the clock any more. She will try to look at the watch, and count the number from one to twelve. If the time is around 11 or 12, she might get a chance to tell the time. Otherwise, she would try to count again, knowing that it is not around 11 or 12, but just cannot tell what time it is.
I also noticed that her watch looked familiar. It turned out that she old watch went bad, and my parents gave her my old watch, the watch that accompanied me throughout high school and college. It still worked fine on her wrist, except that her wrist is so skinny now that the watch hung like a big necklace from her wrist. Before I hopped on bus out of my hometown on Friday, I told my parents, "If my Niangniang passes away, please leave the watch for me, as a memory." I intentionally told them that one second before I checked into the bus station, so that they could not scrutinize my face for any signs of pessimism. I just hopped on the bus. I could not have any conversations about the topic of Niangniang passing away. Rationally, I know it is coming, but mentally, I am still in denial.
One day when I was in her place, I noticed that one type of her medicine ran out. I asked her whether she had supplies somewhere, she said yes, but could not find it. I told her that I would get some for her in the in-house pharmacy. She tried to stop me, but I insisted. She gave up easily (she would've struggled more before), as if the weakened body also diminished her determination. I took her card, and ready to get some medicine. All of a suddenly, I experienced the strongest urge of dropping tears. I quickly walked out and rushed to the pharmacy. My thoughts were all about my childhood, when was sick all the time, and it was Niangniang who always accompanied me. When I was checked into hospital for my bloody dump, my Niangniang literally lived in the hospital as well. When I broke my arm bones, Niangniang walked me all around the town in the middle of the night and eventually went to a doctor's home and waked her up to fix my arm. And now it was my turn to get medicine for her, just for one day, because I would be gone in a week...... I think I am very easy to feel guilty. I think I should, but Niangniang (also my parents, my sister, etc.) often thought I already did a lot for her. That's only add to my guilt, as if I am taking those cheap shots to filfill my moral ego, only leaving old folks at home to run for their own life.
In the morning of the last day, I needed to get some software for my old laptop that I left for my brother-in-law. Out of the store, I saw the famous cathlic church in my hometown. Though an athiest, I walked in. It was an okey church, but it had an ugly Juses sculpture in the front: Two angeles descented from the heaven, holding a crown to put on the head of Jesus. I do not know why, but I just thought it was silly. I was the only one in the church hall. I picked a front seat, sat down, held my hands together to touch my jaw, and said probably the first prayer of my whole life. It was about my family. Of course, nothing changed afterwords. No enlightment, so spiritual connections, just like what I expected. I told myself, "That's great. If I had've felt releaved, what a selfish bastard I am to use religion to serve my own well-being?!" However, there might be a slightest spark of thought that I do not want to write off here: If there is some advanced being who wants to go against all my disbelief and want to filfill my wishes, that's not bad as well. With that, I head to visit Niangniang for the last time.
I was afraid that I would eventually snap during my last visit, but to my surprise, I was extremely calm. I planned it all along. I got a nice blanket and some health products. I understood that, even though she might not need to want them, it is important to pile up stuff for her. If I understood correctly, nursing home was just like a kindergarden. Everyone had their territory and property. Although no one admits, they are comparing with each other all the time. I need to buy things just so she can brag about her "overseas grandson". That's few things she has now, and that's few things that I can do. I got there with my gifts, and she was quite receptive. She then compainted about a winter clothes, because she could not operate a zipper consistently. I told her that I would bring it back home so my mom could get a tailor to change it into buttoms. I asked her to take several pictures with her roommate and the nurse. I also shot some video of her without her notice. I guess that way I would also have her voice and movement. It was time to go. She insisted to walk me in the aisle. I stopped her in the end and hugged her. Her voice got cranky, and I held her hand, "good bye, and take care." Then I walked away. After she turned back, I walked back too, taking the last video shot of her back slowing walking away, stopped several times to take a breath, and finally disappeared into her little room. I felt this last shot was a little cruel. She did not know I was there, so she did not take out her best effort walking. In fact, she looked even older, her back slumped as if there was unbearable weight over her. That is a video shot that I doubt I would ever want to watch. I just want to keep it in my archive, because metaphorically, it is very important to me, because Niangniang soon will walk out of my life, just like she slowly walked out of the video frames.
That's almost all I want to say about Niangniang for now. However, please do not take away the point that she was a perfect grandma. No, she was not. She was sometimes overreaching into other people's business, liked gossiping, sometimes selfish (at least selfish for her loved ones), stubborn, did not get along well with other people, picky, etc. Not surprisingly, I shared very similar flaws with hers, as 18 years living together really molded my personality.
However, that's not the point. The point is: just like every kid knows, a gift does not need to be perfect in order to be a great gift. Niangniang is probably the greatest gift I have had so far in my life: it is a package of love and flaws, a combo of repressive experience and sweet memory, a lifetime of struggling with me and caring for me. It is a gift that I am almost too late to say "thank you" before I have to say "good bye"......
Over fives days in my hometown, I went to see her 4 times in the nursing home. Her hair all grey. She had a hard time walking around. She was cold all the time. So skinny that her facial skin barely covered her skull. I had a hard time to holding back my tears. Just imagine that she used to be my greatest protector, but now she will sway in a breeze. But I did not cry. I do not know the reason, but I just did not want to cry in front of her.
I only cried in the darkness in bed during the night before my last visit to her. My mind was like a theatre and my past ran on the stage, every scene with my Niangniang in her younger age. Sometimes she went to the farmer's market for a day's dish, sometimes she help me to fend off school bullies, sometimes she game me money to buy comic books...... I think I got a little sick the second day: my throat felt like burning. Well, maybe it was not because of my cry (I took a run around the town the same night and then took a cold shower). But whatever. Hey, It is my blog, and I make causal connections.
Niangniang now have very bad memories. She will forget things she did a minute ago. I feel very sorry about it, because she has been very proud of her independence all along. Now this pride is eroding, and I can see her giving up to the fate. She knows that her memory is bad, and still struggle to get an up-hand. For example, she wrote a note of "take medicine". Before she has meal, she will ritually take a bowl with bottles of medicine and then cover them with the note. That way, after she finishes the meal, she will be notified that she needs to take the medicine. However, what if she memory goes further downhill so that she would forget the note itself? I feel the day is coming, and I hope my Niangniang will not suffer too much.
She can hardly read the clock any more. She will try to look at the watch, and count the number from one to twelve. If the time is around 11 or 12, she might get a chance to tell the time. Otherwise, she would try to count again, knowing that it is not around 11 or 12, but just cannot tell what time it is.
I also noticed that her watch looked familiar. It turned out that she old watch went bad, and my parents gave her my old watch, the watch that accompanied me throughout high school and college. It still worked fine on her wrist, except that her wrist is so skinny now that the watch hung like a big necklace from her wrist. Before I hopped on bus out of my hometown on Friday, I told my parents, "If my Niangniang passes away, please leave the watch for me, as a memory." I intentionally told them that one second before I checked into the bus station, so that they could not scrutinize my face for any signs of pessimism. I just hopped on the bus. I could not have any conversations about the topic of Niangniang passing away. Rationally, I know it is coming, but mentally, I am still in denial.
One day when I was in her place, I noticed that one type of her medicine ran out. I asked her whether she had supplies somewhere, she said yes, but could not find it. I told her that I would get some for her in the in-house pharmacy. She tried to stop me, but I insisted. She gave up easily (she would've struggled more before), as if the weakened body also diminished her determination. I took her card, and ready to get some medicine. All of a suddenly, I experienced the strongest urge of dropping tears. I quickly walked out and rushed to the pharmacy. My thoughts were all about my childhood, when was sick all the time, and it was Niangniang who always accompanied me. When I was checked into hospital for my bloody dump, my Niangniang literally lived in the hospital as well. When I broke my arm bones, Niangniang walked me all around the town in the middle of the night and eventually went to a doctor's home and waked her up to fix my arm. And now it was my turn to get medicine for her, just for one day, because I would be gone in a week...... I think I am very easy to feel guilty. I think I should, but Niangniang (also my parents, my sister, etc.) often thought I already did a lot for her. That's only add to my guilt, as if I am taking those cheap shots to filfill my moral ego, only leaving old folks at home to run for their own life.
In the morning of the last day, I needed to get some software for my old laptop that I left for my brother-in-law. Out of the store, I saw the famous cathlic church in my hometown. Though an athiest, I walked in. It was an okey church, but it had an ugly Juses sculpture in the front: Two angeles descented from the heaven, holding a crown to put on the head of Jesus. I do not know why, but I just thought it was silly. I was the only one in the church hall. I picked a front seat, sat down, held my hands together to touch my jaw, and said probably the first prayer of my whole life. It was about my family. Of course, nothing changed afterwords. No enlightment, so spiritual connections, just like what I expected. I told myself, "That's great. If I had've felt releaved, what a selfish bastard I am to use religion to serve my own well-being?!" However, there might be a slightest spark of thought that I do not want to write off here: If there is some advanced being who wants to go against all my disbelief and want to filfill my wishes, that's not bad as well. With that, I head to visit Niangniang for the last time.
I was afraid that I would eventually snap during my last visit, but to my surprise, I was extremely calm. I planned it all along. I got a nice blanket and some health products. I understood that, even though she might not need to want them, it is important to pile up stuff for her. If I understood correctly, nursing home was just like a kindergarden. Everyone had their territory and property. Although no one admits, they are comparing with each other all the time. I need to buy things just so she can brag about her "overseas grandson". That's few things she has now, and that's few things that I can do. I got there with my gifts, and she was quite receptive. She then compainted about a winter clothes, because she could not operate a zipper consistently. I told her that I would bring it back home so my mom could get a tailor to change it into buttoms. I asked her to take several pictures with her roommate and the nurse. I also shot some video of her without her notice. I guess that way I would also have her voice and movement. It was time to go. She insisted to walk me in the aisle. I stopped her in the end and hugged her. Her voice got cranky, and I held her hand, "good bye, and take care." Then I walked away. After she turned back, I walked back too, taking the last video shot of her back slowing walking away, stopped several times to take a breath, and finally disappeared into her little room. I felt this last shot was a little cruel. She did not know I was there, so she did not take out her best effort walking. In fact, she looked even older, her back slumped as if there was unbearable weight over her. That is a video shot that I doubt I would ever want to watch. I just want to keep it in my archive, because metaphorically, it is very important to me, because Niangniang soon will walk out of my life, just like she slowly walked out of the video frames.
That's almost all I want to say about Niangniang for now. However, please do not take away the point that she was a perfect grandma. No, she was not. She was sometimes overreaching into other people's business, liked gossiping, sometimes selfish (at least selfish for her loved ones), stubborn, did not get along well with other people, picky, etc. Not surprisingly, I shared very similar flaws with hers, as 18 years living together really molded my personality.
However, that's not the point. The point is: just like every kid knows, a gift does not need to be perfect in order to be a great gift. Niangniang is probably the greatest gift I have had so far in my life: it is a package of love and flaws, a combo of repressive experience and sweet memory, a lifetime of struggling with me and caring for me. It is a gift that I am almost too late to say "thank you" before I have to say "good bye"......
I am back!
I came back from China this morning. Still felt a little jet-lagged, but I am going to hang on until 10pm tonight before I hit the sack. It was a great trip back home. I think I have a couple of great blog entries in my sleeves. The plan: 1. an entry about my Niangniang. 2) finish off the third part of my friend Yuphen. 3) my family. 4) Maybe a couple of my friends.
But before I go on, I want to acknowledge one of my recent readers. I used Google Analytics to keep track on the readership. Since this blog is all about full disclosure, I want to let you know that I know you are from Cambridge, MA and you are reading a lot in the past week. That's all I know. All I hope for is that my life sounds interesting in this blog to make your time worthwhile.
But before I go on, I want to acknowledge one of my recent readers. I used Google Analytics to keep track on the readership. Since this blog is all about full disclosure, I want to let you know that I know you are from Cambridge, MA and you are reading a lot in the past week. That's all I know. All I hope for is that my life sounds interesting in this blog to make your time worthwhile.
Wednesday, November 15, 2006
Heading to China
So I will leave for China in two days. I think I need to bring quite some work with me in this trip.
So I finally let the rat go. I put it in a plastic drawer. Had to change water and food at least once a day. It was too much work for me already. Bisides, it made my room smell pretty bad. So I put it in the backyard and let it go. I believe it have been the dinner of a wild cat already. The law of nature, I think.
I commute to SF once every week to consult with that company that sells dog accessary. It is not a bad job at all. They actually are willing to counter-offer me a job, probably with a base salary higher than the one I have got. I will not take it. Maybe one day I will regret if it becomes the microsoft of the dog world one day.
My teaching is almost winding down. I have one last lecture on Nov 27, and then I have student presentations in the last three sessions. It was a fun experience. However, I do feel that social science majors attract some lazy-ass students who regard a techie major too harsh a reality. Also there are some kiss-ups.
And finally, the election. My department has a game of election prediction. Amazingly, I picked the whole senate correctly and bet that democrats will take 230 house seats (right now, democrats have 230, and still 9 undecided). So I easily win the pool, a total of 25 dollars. I guess I know American politics pretty well, plus some damn luck.
So I finally let the rat go. I put it in a plastic drawer. Had to change water and food at least once a day. It was too much work for me already. Bisides, it made my room smell pretty bad. So I put it in the backyard and let it go. I believe it have been the dinner of a wild cat already. The law of nature, I think.
I commute to SF once every week to consult with that company that sells dog accessary. It is not a bad job at all. They actually are willing to counter-offer me a job, probably with a base salary higher than the one I have got. I will not take it. Maybe one day I will regret if it becomes the microsoft of the dog world one day.
My teaching is almost winding down. I have one last lecture on Nov 27, and then I have student presentations in the last three sessions. It was a fun experience. However, I do feel that social science majors attract some lazy-ass students who regard a techie major too harsh a reality. Also there are some kiss-ups.
And finally, the election. My department has a game of election prediction. Amazingly, I picked the whole senate correctly and bet that democrats will take 230 house seats (right now, democrats have 230, and still 9 undecided). So I easily win the pool, a total of 25 dollars. I guess I know American politics pretty well, plus some damn luck.
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