Touch of the heart

Throughout all the time growing up, there have been pluses and minuses to being Chinese-American. The questions of, "So where are you from? ... No, where are you REALLY from?" as if the answer of New York City was somehow wrong. But there were quite a few things that I found most precious. One of them is the value of food in a Chinese family. Food is the center of everything... family gatherings, a symbol of love, health, joy, etc. In a previous post, I think I even mentioned that my Dad still begins our phone conversations with, "Have you eaten [breakfast, lunch, dinner] yet?" because that's what most Chinese people do.

So when, a couple of weeks ago, I read this article about the nutritional content (read: unhealthiness) of dim sum, I was a little taken aback. Dim sum is special to me. Something I really enjoy. Fond memories of my childhood, going into Chinatown with my family. Eating. It's also one of the few places/times where my awful Chinese is passable (I speak, what I affectionately call, Restaurant Chinese).

Emails circulated about this article. People were upset. I think the pervasive comment was, "I'd really rather not know." I agree. Why make something that is so fun and wonderful and yummy turn bleak. Apparently, we weren't the only ones who were upset by this report. Dim sum is a way of life in Hong Kong. I saw it when I was there many years ago. We, in this country are used to government entities telling us how to eat. Most people generally ignore them. Culturally, I don't see food as quite an important part of life with most people as I have observed with most Asian families. So this type of government finger wagging generally doesn't bother people.

I just wonder who's going to rain on my sunny day next. But until that time, I'll enjoy another bo-lo-bao.

Oh, give me a home...

where the buffalo roam...

What more is there to say?

I still haven't found what I'm looking for

I want ice cream. It's a very simple thing. I've wanted ice cream since last Thursday. Sitting in a meeting, having already returned from lunch, knowing the entire afternoon was ahead of us, and I was thinking of ice cream. And not just to have ice cream. But to go out, try a few flavours at a store, and finally settling on the flavour of choice. Maybe I want a waffle cone. Or maybe a cup. I would follow my fancy once I got there.

Well, since we were not able to get any ice cream on Thursday (and I certainly didn't want to venture to the ice cream shop alone - these types of things are best done in pairs or groups, in my opinion), B and I decided, since he would not be at work on Friday, to set yesterday (Monday) as the day we would have our ice cream outing. Well, we were foiled. After having lunch, we drove around to Maggie Moo's, all giddy that we were finally going to satiate this craving. Smiling, sun shining, we walk up to the storefront to be confronted with a sign:

CLOSED FOR RENOVATION

We were crushed. All we could do was laugh and yet be sad that we failed in our mission. We also decided that it meant we would have to go to Ben and Jerry's - but alas, our lunch hour was over and it would have to wait for another day.

I want ice cream.

Making of the modern world

It is interesting to note how it is that people and organizations approach the modern age. Some tiptoe in - afraid of doing anything online for fear of security breaches. Some jump in head first - always trying to get their hands on the newest and greatest technology. I have to admit, I am a half and half person - I know, very strange since I'm an engineer. But I actually have this irrational fear of artificial intelligence (I think that anything unbiological that can theoretically be smarter than it's creator is quite scary).

One of the now not-so-modern advances that I love is e-mail. It allows for people to stay connected, even minute by minute with some (yes, I mean you, M), so that no one is ever really out of the loop or far away. This type of communication makes the word seem so much smaller. That I can know what's up with a friend visiting home on the other side of the world without having to make a long distance phone call at some ungodly hour is reassuring somehow.

So I think it's rather cool that the Papacy has entered the modern age. Blessings over e-mail. Faith via fiber optics.

High five!

Today is National High Five Day.

Raise your hand up and give someone a high five!

Simplicity

We rush too much in our lives. Constantly running here or there. Late for appointments. Late for meetings. Have to get to this class or that seminar. Constantly connected. Cell phone to ear, Palm Pilot in pocket sounding an alarm for the next place you need to be.

I, myself, had gotten caught up in all of this rush-rush life. Now, however, I don't have this overriding feeling that I have to be elsewhere. Not like I did before. I have my Palm Pilot, I have my cell phone. But they aren't my essentials. My essentials have become the book that I am reading at the moment. The CD that happens to be loaded in the car CD player. Sunroof open, windows down, music loud, singing.

Days like today, beautiful, sunny, breezy days, are meant to be spent outside, even if just for a leisurely 15 minute walk. No rush. I have plenty of time during the lunch hour to get back. Just have a stroll and breathe it in.

A house and a home

I love going back to NYC. My heart and soul are from Brooklyn and even though I am not living there now, I still consider it as a home of sorts. It's funny because, I really no longer have a home to go to anymore. My Dad moved out of my childhood home into a new condo, which was a good move for him. But, to me, that is not home. I have no connection to this new place. My childhood house is no longer. It has been demolished for the sake of progress and increased housing opportunities. The land on which the house previously existed is now combined with two other pieces of land and will eventually be the locale of a new condominium.

But this weekend I went to NYC to celebrate a new home. A home to friends very dear to me. D and S invited us into their new house, their home, to celebrate and be surrounded by friends and family. One can always tell when a house is a home. It has that warm, soothing feeling as you enter the door. It has that joy of people who can say, "This is where I come to be with those I love." And their new home says that. It said that when I went to visit several months ago and again this weekend.

I have posted recently that I have moved several times in my life already. The most recent being slightly over a month ago. And although I have lived in my new place for a relatively short time, and have still not fully unpacked, I already feel at home. It has the love and comfort that we all wish to have in a home. My fuzzy baby has already shown me that he feels like it's home by rolling onto his back while sleeping and showing me his little pink tummy. I think we are all beginning to feel secure there.

Signs

Since I've started working at a real job, I've figured out a good basic morning routine. Alarm. Snooze. Alarm. Snooze. Alarm. Get out of bed. Shower, brush teeth, etc. Make tea (one for home, one in the travel mug for work). Eat (and while eating, to my morning web surf). Get dressed. Walk dog. Put on make-up. Finish preparing tea for work. Leave.

It works pretty well and runs about 1.5 hours from first alarm to leave (it would be lots less, except for the snoozes).

Since routines keep the mind focused (or rather, allows you to do things while the mind is half asleep), one can get ready with a minimum amount of stress or worry. And as such, I have a routine once I get to work as well. Park car. Put mug of tea on top of car. Get bags. Go through security. Get to office. Out of bag comes appointment book, Palm Pilot and cell phone. Log in. Check e-mail. Relax. Drink tea. Get to work.

Well, it's always a bad sign when something in the regular routine goes awry for one reason or another. It didn't happen at home. It happened in the work routine. And caused great disruption to the whole of the routine. Today, on the very simple "Put tea on top of car" stage, my tea mug decides to jump off the car and spill itself all over the car and the ground. I think it decided to commit suicide as the mug itself broke (and it was a travel mug, so that's no easy feat). It was such a shocking thing that all I could do for about a minute was look at the ground, watching the last of my tea flowing out of the mug into the crevices of the asphalt.

After waking up from this apparent hypnosis, I realized that I had the rest of the day ahead (and it was only 8:30am), and I needed to get moving. It was so disorienting. I was so confused.

It was at that moment that I realized how, we as human beings, need our habits to function - some much more than others. I don't think I had ever really appreciated it as much as a grad student, since my schedule was so much more fluid. I also realized that I am quite unfunctional in the morning, although I think I'm awake, I'm really running on the backup memory until I have my first sip of my second mug of tea.

words

how many words do you speak a day
what makes them come forth
to laugh and bring joy
to comfort and soothe

what makes the words so powerful
stirring nations to war
quietly keeping the peace
bringing forth pride
drawing out shame

words to comfort a child in tears
words to make you fall in love
words when said which break the heart
words like daggers through the soul

words are a weapon wielded without regard
words are a blanket swaddling the pain
from the mind through the mouth
into the world
and cannot be taken back

All work and no pay

I was looking forward to my first paycheck. Very much so. I was going to run around giddy, finally feeling like a grown-up, with gainful employment and a real income. I was looking forward to it.

And it didn't come... yes, the excitement of getting my very first paycheck from my very first real job was brutally taken away by the evil menace called bureaucracy (it's taken me a long time to learn how to spell that word, so I shall use it a lot from now on). Apparently, something along the way went amiss. An erroneous keystroke, an unfiled paper - you know the deal. Something happened that made the deposit that was supposed to cushion my checking account be refused, diverted, otherwise misdirected... or undirected at all.

See, the problem is, no one knows what went wrong. And as a result, I may not get paid until this coming Friday - and even then, it's not a guarantee.

So, for now, I sit looking at my bills, knowing that I have taxes to pay, and having to dip - I hate dipping. Savings is supposed to be just that - savings. Not dipping funds. But I must.

And now, I just wait.

The phone rings...

... as I am driving home this evening. From the familiar ring tone, (set to Chinese Jingle) I know it is my Dad:


T: Hey Dad. What's up? How are you feeling?

D: Not bad. Have you eaten yet? (note: for those of you who don't already know, this is a very common way for Chinese people to say hello... don't ask me why)

T: Not yet, I'm on my way home now. What's going on?

D: This week is your pay day, right?

T: Yeah...

D: Make a copy of your paycheck!

T: Why?

D: As a souvenir.

T: (eyebrow raised) Do you want it?

D: No, so you can remember your first real paycheck.

T: Dad, I won't get a paycheck. They put it directly in the bank now.

D: Really? Because you work for the government? Then you don't know how much you get.

T: No, Dad. I get a paystub, it tells me how much I get, but the money goes straight into the bank. And I've had it done this way since in school.

D: Huh. I didn't know they did that... Well, make a copy of it anyway so you can remember.

T: Okay, Dad. The next time I'm home, I have to give you the book (my thesis) Goodnight. Talk to you soon.

D: Oh, good. Thank you. Talk to you soon.


It's cute that my Dad wants me to remember every little bit of my new experiences. He asks me a lot if I like the new job. I'm not sure he quite believes how much freedom I have... he's still under the impression that I have to punch a time-clock or something (which I do, sort of, but it's in an Excel spreadsheet). My Dad has always been part of the blue collar, unionized, time-card punching workforce. I think that the idea of me in an office job, where I don't have to punch a clock, makes him very happy. He seems to be whenever we talk about it.

It's cute.

31

Before the stroke of midnight, I just wanted to make sure that I say:

HAPPY BIRTHDAY, JAY!

Sweat and roses

There have been many things that I have been saying that I would do for years. But there was never time or I tried and it wasn't what I thought it would be. One of these such things is yoga. I've gone to a few yoga classes in my life, but I never felt like I was doing anything. We weren't holding poses for very long, my heart rate wasn't being increased in any way... and by the end I generally felt like I had done nothing. Thinking on it for a while, I decided that it must have been the classes I was taking. So I decided I would give it one more try.

I went to a yoga class this evening. But not just any yoga class. A Bikram Yoga class. Now, for those who have never heard of it, Bikram yoga is yoga done in a heated room. Not "Oh, it's balmy and nice in here" kind of heat. It's the "My God this can't possibly be good for you" kind of heat. Or at least that's what went through my head when I first entered the room, sat down, began to be flush and started to sweat. I didn't think that I would make it through the 90 minutes (that's right - 90 minutes) of it.

Not only did I make it through the 90 minutes, sweating more than I think I have ever sweat in my life, but I LOVED every minute of it. It was unbelieveable. And after a nice shower, my body feels cleaner than I've felt in a really long time. And from the signals that my muscles are giving me at this moment, I know I'm going to feel it tomorrow. But I'm definitely going back.


Why roses? Because I got roses today from a wonderful man.

Happy April Fool's

Since it is this fool's prerogative... For classical music geeks everywhere, a composer I had completely forgotten about until listening to my classical station this morning. Here is a sample of the silliness.

Have fun!