December 4, 2008

Tick Tock Tick Tock

I woke up this morning not being able to tell if the almighty “fate” is trying to say something to me or if my body’s just frustrated by a lack of settling someone down.

Let me explain.   The alarm sounded at 7, which it always does because I like waking up @ several intervals before I finally get up; it’s like I get to treat myself to over an hour of snoozing…  I went back to sleep, and this is the dream I had:

I’m with my parents.  I don’t remember anything about the surroundings, except that things are grey and we’re kind of hiding out somewhere.  (My dreams are like the memory eraser from Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind; every time I wake up, details of the dream seem to fade from the corners inward.)  I’ve been having my period but for some reason, I realize that I’m pregnant.  Because we were hiding or staying inside, they ushered me to my room, saying it’s okay; I can always deliver the baby later.

So I go into my room and realize… um… the baby’s not going to wait.  So what do I do?  I position myself at the edge of the chair, making it easier for me to see and grab the child coming out.  Then, because I’m so ecstatically smart, I grab an empy trash can.  Apparently, my mind thought that in case the baby fell, I’d rather have it fall in a trash can than on the floor.

(Apologies for the graphic nature of the following description… but you have to think, I actually dreamed this shit was happening to me.  CREEPY.)

Something was coming out my jooja.  I instinctively reach out to cup it, in case it’s a baby.  It slips into the trash can and lands with a plop.  I think I actually lurched in my sleep, I was so terrified that I’d just dropped a freakin’ child.  My freakin’ child.  Instead, it’s a bunch of masks.  They’re rubbery and soggy from some biological fluid.  I have no idea how they got there, except that one of the masks look like someone’s disguise from a previous part of the dream that I’ve now forgotten.  (If you’re totally fucking lost, that’s pretty much how I feel right now.)

I lean back onto the chair for a moment to breathe.  I don’t feel anything at all.  It’s like I’m floating above myself but I’m seeing through my own eyes.  Unexpectedly, I feel something emerge.  There’s a globular brown shape with tiny bits of hair.  Reaching with my left hand, I slip the baby out without any problem or pain.  My anticipated reaction is that I want to hold the baby and coo.  Then, I notice that the baby looks like Shinchan, who’s a Japanese cartoon character.

Imagine that naked, half Chinese-half black thing looking up at you.  It wasn’t pretty.  My immediate reaction was distaste.  Any emotions I thought I’d have towards my own baby was completely gone.  Yet, I felt guilty for not loving it despite how it looked… err he… he looked.  There’s a fake, silicon texture to his skin.  He didn’t look at all like the amazingly beautiful baby that boy and I were going to have.  Then, I notice he’s not crying.  The umbilical chord was attached to his right eyes instead of his belly button.  I gently pull it out.  He stops breathing.  I start panicking.  My dad comes into the room.  He’s disappointed that I’m having a baby randomly and completely unattached to anyone.  I’m crying for him to help.  He sets the baby on a table and tries to give him CPR.  Then, I wake up.

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It’s a traumatizing mix of emotions to experience (without the pain and effort) giving birth, being a superficial bitch who doesn’t want an ugly baby, and feeling remorseful when the baby stops breathing and dies all in the span of 1 hour.  On one hand, my biological clock clearly wants a baby.  Maybe fate’s telling me that I’m about to have one (?). But the baby dies.  So does that mean I should really ignore my instincts to nest, or that boy is really not the right man for me?

Fucking subconscious.  I can’t read minds.  Just write me a note or something.

November 30, 2008

Last Excerpt from Novel

Just over 500 words to go before it’s all over tomorrow… err today.  Here’s the last excerpt.  Enjoy! :)

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“Let’s go to Spec’s.”

“Um… I’m not sure they have dinner there.”

“I need to get alcohol for my place anyways. Besides, there’s food there.”

“Spec’s has food?”

“Yeah. I mean it’s not as good as Whole Foods or Central Market, but it’s pretty darn good.”

“Okay. I’ve never been before. Let’s go.”

“Wait, you haven’t been to Spec’s? Wow, this will be an experience for you.”

“Yeah, I never had the chance. When I grew up here, I was never old enough to buy alcohol.”

He pulled his SUV into a parking space. It was lightly drizzling outside, and she had purposefully taken out her umbrella before she left to go to his place. She forgot that it ever drizzled in Houston. He reached over and slid the clutch into park. They both exited and made their way to the entrance.

She was hanging out with a high school friend. She always knew that he had a crush on her and couldn’t help spending time with him. She liked the attention that he lavished on her, and it was a much needed distraction from her current relationship, or whatever you want to call it. Boy had texted her the day before saying that he found his phone and was going to call her. Of course, she hadn’t called back, and he never called that evening as promised. When she texted him the next day, he said the phone was charged enough that she could talk to him. That was probably a white lie. She was sick of the entire situation. So she was out with Michael drinking at the moment. Well, they were preparing to drink. Hopefully, there will be other people joining them because she didn’t have enough strength to play the rejection game without being a total bitch.

Walking down the aisles, she asked inane questions, trying to gauge how other people, besides him, would react to her returning home. Of course, many people would think that she’d failed, which is whatever to her. She didn’t care what other people thought, as long as they were willing to hang out with her and give her a chance. After all, that’s all she wanted. She wanted emotional closeness to a select group of people and fuck the rest.

He picked up tequila, rum, vodka and the regular mix of drinks that people usually stocked up on. During the conversation, she found out that he and his roommate, another friend from high school, just moved into their apartment together and he needed to fill up on a lot of things. During the process, she found her favorite childhood candy, Kinder, and bought more than her fair share, which was about $20 worth. It was extremely overpriced but she didn’t care. All she wanted to do was feel wanted and included in some group. She tried so hard in San Francisco to fit in and feel like she belonged. Somehow, it just didn’t happen to work out.

They went back to his car and drove to the local grocery store to buy food. There, they filled up on a couple of sandwiches, completely forgetting the mixers and made their way back to his place. Sitting down to eat, he kept texting his friends, trying to gauge who wanted to hang out and what was going on this Saturday night. She had bought two sandwiches and was alternating her attention between the two of them. Whenever she was famished, her mind was always bigger than her stomach. Hence, her current weight situation.

After a quick phone call, he turned to her.

“Come on. We’re leaving to go eat hamburgers.”

“What?”

“They’re the best in town. Sam and Jason are waiting for us. We’ll go eat there and decide what to do for the rest of the night.”

Not wanting to disappoint these people she hadn’t seen since high school, she quietly obliged. Although she did take half of her tuna sandwich, not wanting to completely lose power. On the drive there, he talked about nothing at all, mostly singing along with the music. It annoyed her terribly; she’d rather hear the song than hear his singing voice but didn’t say a thing.

As they pulled in the parking lot, Sam and Jason were just walking into the restaurant. To her amazement, they were always gone and inside when they locked the car door. Michael mentioned something about the restaurant’s ordering system, but she thought it was just plain rude, although she didn’t say so. Inside, they waited in line to order. Jason pretended not to know her very well, but Sam was more than polite. He was just as she remembered him and all of a sudden, she was so very glad for his politeness and courtesy. Of course, she didn’t like Jason that much during her high school years and this was no different. He seemed in his own world, and she wasn’t part of it.

After they’d ordered, she got nothing because she didn’t feel hungry at all, they made their way to the table. Michael was nice enough to get her a drink. There were big screen TVs all over the restaurant, clearly a sports place. Tonight was one of the final rounds for the national college football championships of some sort. She had no idea what was going on and all the semi-explanations didn’t do the trick. Somehow, everyone assumed that she knew something about college football and seemed to leave out some crucial details. She didn’t k now how the system worked at all, having gone to a private school and wasn’t understanding why people cared so much for a random sport. The teams had nothing to do with their own alma mater, especially since A&M, UT and UH didn’t stand a chance of getting in the finals. At least that’s how she understood it. UT might have a slimmer of a chance if OSU won but that wasn’t happening by a 10 point spread or so. That’s about as much as she could understand.

Jason wasn’t too keen on the details of his life. Every time, she made a polite general question he thought it was directed towards him. Any courtesy she could afford, which was very little at this point, was overlooked. Sam, however, was more than a gentleman. Michael, for the most part, remained quiet.

After dinner, they went back to Sam and Michael’s new place to drink the freshly bought alcohol. Jason was disappointed at the selection and went back to his truck to get a ready filled cooler with cold beers and ice. She fixed herself a drink, which was way too strong and not at all what she thought. Apparently, they had bought the wrong type of triple sec, which wasn’t triple sec at all, and anyway, she had used Pucker to make the original concoction, a drunken experiment gone right, for once. They sat, watching college football and not talking much. Jason was pent on leaving. Clearly, he just wanted to hang with the boys and was annoyed at her presence. Ann, Sam’s girlfriend, showed up a while later. They had known each other since middle school, but she didn’t seem to recall her at all. She wasn’t sure if it was Ann’s actual forgetfulness or just her. Ignoring the awkwardness, they proceeded to hang out and talk about everything from the game to iPhone apps to movies and TV shows. The alcohol was warming her up to everyone, or what that just time?

Jason made some excuse about leaving and left. She made her way to Michael’s couch and took his spot. There, she proceeded to plug in her iPhone and text boy. Doing so required her to leave over Michael’s lap. Neither of them seem to mind, although Ann and Sam looked a bit suspicious and uncomfortable. As they were watching crappy TV, boy called. Ann instinctively unplugged her iPhone and handed it over to her. She talked for a bit and then went outside for some privacy. She didn’t mean for the call to last long but the alcohol was affecting her. It was just natural for her to run out and get some smokes, since she was out. Starting the car, she drove around aimlessly, trying to find a gas station. The call was distracting her and he frustrating her, so she said she’d call him back and just drove. A pack of cigs later, she called Michael and asked him to open the door. As always, he obliged. That’s what she appreciated most about him. Even during her bad habits, he was always a gentleman and could be counted on for support. Back in his apartment, she showed them two girls and one cup, a movie that she didn’t watch but laughed at their reactions of horror. Even though the clip had come out over a year ago, she thought it was more of a rite of passage. Clearly, they didn’t agree.

They watched TV until close to two in the morning. She felt that since she was technically visiting her parents’, she should at least adhere to the two am-stop-drinking limit that most clubs in the Bay Area imposed. She excused herself and prepared to leave. Thankfully Ann thought the same thing, although she couldn’t tell if Ann was just waiting for her to make the signal or not. Giving a rather formal goodbye at the door, she hugged Ann and Sam before heading out to the car with Michael. He had insisted on walking her out, which was very gentlemanly of her. Once there, he made a quick goodbye and she was left at the door of her mom’s car. Quite buzzed, she lit a cig and began smoking it. She was too tipsy to properly feel the nicotine, although she loved having the freedom of being able to smoke without judgment. Sometimes it just felt good to be able to have a smoke without people looking down on her or hurrying before her parent caught her or having to worry about what people at work thought about her frequent 20 minute breaks. Even the Starbucks people were joking about her having nothing to do at work that she hung around so much. This was nonjudgmental smoking, even if it was at two am on a Sunday morning, standing outside her friends’ house drunk and not caring. After she finished her fag, she promptly went into the car and drove home. The streets were mostly empty, particularly because her parents lived in a residential neighborhood that didn’t see the heavy traffic of young people going out. As she pulled up to driveway, she made sure that the headlights were off.

After a shower, she picked up her cat and nestled with her for a moment. The cat was used to her showing affection. When she first go the baby, the cat didn’t like being kissed but was used to it now. She lied on top of her, stroking her head while kissing her fiercely, roughly nuzzling her. The cat seemed to like the attention. After all, she had been sleeping upstairs and the cat didn’t enjoy the usual night time bonding that they usually experienced back home. Back home, she always slept naked, and the cat would come up onto her bed and suckle on her arm pits like a nipple, needling her soft layer of fat. This hadn’t happened for several days while she was back in Houston, so they both obliged each other to this bonding behavior. Maybe she was being too loud, but her mom was outside her door. Quickly and embarrassingly, she got dressed. Her mom remarked that everyone could see her naked with the blinds open. She hadn’t really paid attention, since none of the neighbors had remodeled to include a two story house. No one could possibly see her naked unless they had binoculars and were looking at her window specifically at three am in the morning. Nevertheless, she closed the blinds and got back into bed to sleep. The cat was still in the room. Hopefully, she would have another chance to bond with her baby before leaving the following Tuesday to return back home.

November 26, 2008

Germany Excerpt

I’ve been home for two days.  Home being Houston.  It’s so relaxing.  There isn’t pressure to network and scramble and succeed like how it sometimes feels in the Bay.  Everything’s just more leisurely.  I even drive slower (although I do miss my 330 ci… I had the top down today… wheeeeee- I’m spoiled… a lady on the train used to call me “little rich bitch”).  I really love these days off, even more so because my parents had to work the last two days, so I could meander around the new house, just me and the cat.

House update: the interior decorator came by and added accents all over the house.  Most of them I like, although I’m not 100% they really say “my parents.”  The living room looks like a freakin’ jungle, but all in all, the house feels lived in and not empty.  I’ll post pictures after I get back.

My cat’s getting the royal treatment here.  Even my mom, who said she didn’t want anything to do with the cat, spent some time to get to know Mon Petit Coeur and pet her.  I can’t wait to have kids because if they dote on my cat like this, think of all the freedom I’ll have once I bring kids over!  :-P

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It’s been a bit difficult keeping up with the blog, while I’m trying to write the novel, so sorry for lagging.  I promise to be better, especially because I’ve been reading so many books and have lots things I want to talk about.  I posted an excerpt from my novel below.  Hope you enjoy! :)

Cheers,

Jany

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She opened her eyes to stare at the ceiling. The plane was firmly headed on a downward path, making her stomach lurch towards her throat. Lying on her mother’s lap, she rotated towards the seat in front of them, digging her face into a blue bag with white letters. She actually wasn’t sure how long the flight has been. Her eyes swelled into her head and her lips were chapped from throwing up for so long. She felt her mom stroking the back of her neck as she continued to heave into the foreign bag. At this point, she had no idea what there was left to throw up. During the flight and countless meals, the only thing she had been able to keep down was a slice of tomato. The only activities she knew was curling up to sleep, hurling and praying to some unknown entity that all this torture would soon end. She felt bad for her mother, who was also motion sick and had to take care of her child, while trying to communicate to the German flight attendant. She felt sorry for the flight attendant, who had to take care of the two Chinese country bumpkin look alikes that threw up everywhere and didn’t speak a word of German.

Finally the tires bounced gently onto the tarmac. She couldn’t remember what happened next. Her mom whispered in her ear that her daddy would be waiting for them. She was so excited to see her daddy again; it seemed like too long. Then, as they were walking down a walkway, she let go of her mother’s hand and started to run. At first she couldn’t recognize any of the faces around her. Everyone seemed completely foreign. Blurs rushed to the left and right. People were picking up their bags from the luggage go-around. She dodged in between people and weaved through legs in every direction. When she started to feel utterly lost and overwhelmed, she noticed a huge blob of blue. Hands reached down and picked her up. Big eyes meet hers. Shyly, she looks into them. She’s afraid to speak. This man had simply picked her up and was looking at her expectantly. She didn’t know what she was supposed to do to make him happy. Her hands rested on his shoulders, her chin tilted down and her almond eyes looked into his. He was smiling.

“There you are!” Her mother called from across the room. She has just emerged from the hallway and was making her way towards them. She was holding their carry on bag. “Well, don’t just look at me. Hug your daddy!”

She looked into his eyes again. Obediently, she gushed, “Daddy!” Her mom and aunties had been telling her for a while that she was going to see her daddy again, but she didn’t remember him all that well. This man sure didn’t look like anything she thought. That didn’t matter though. Right now, she loved the prospect of having a daddy, and if this man was it, then she was going to love him and hug him and call him daddy.

As her parents were waiting for their luggage, she looked around. There were a few other Chinese people in the sea of foreign faces. She wasn’t used to seeing anyone unlike her, and now, they were everywhere. Blonde hair, brown hair, people with big feet and legs that lasted forever. She’d look up to see if they had heads at all, they were so tall.

Sometime during the commotion, she had fallen asleep. There was a car and murmurs. By the time they arrived at their destination, it was already the dead of night. Honestly, thinking back, it was probably only 10 or 11pm, but to her four year old self, it must have seemed like the witching hour.

The room is small and bare. French doors looked out into a lawn and then trees. On the opposite wall was a couch that folded out into a bed. Prior to her and her mother’s arrival, dad had acquired a double mattress that was hidden behind the couch during the day and pulled out for her parents at night. She didn’t remember anything else about the rest of the room. There had to be a TV, and probably shelves and closets, but none of those things were particularly important to her at the moment. Her mom spread out sheets on the sofa, and she soon felt her cheek melt into the cushion and drift off into candyland.

Sometime in the next few days, she toured the graduate dorm and met all the other Chinese families. There was Meimei and her family. She was always haughty and stuck in her ways. Her mother would walk around praising her, but her father’s advisor was very kind, and she was always the one with bunches of new toys. From the child’s point of view, she had a heightened class because of the toys.

One time, she and Meimei were having an argument. They couldn’t decide how many seconds were in a minute. Knowing that she was right, she suggested that they would walk ask an adult. They both walked up to Meimei’s mom, who was cleaning in their apartment.

“Ay yi (Auntie), Meimei and I are wondering a question. How many seconds are in a minute? I said 60, but she says 100. I know I’m right. Tell her that she’s wrong, and there are only 60 seconds in a minute,” she pleaded bossily.

The woman knelt down to be at their eye levels. Her look seemed confused and a bit distraught. Clearly, she thought her daughter was the best and here was this lesser child, who was proclaiming that she was smarter. Not wanting to see her daughter in tears, yet again, she proposed, “Both of you are right. There are 60 seconds in a minute and there are 100 seconds in a minute. It really depends on how you look at it.”

“Hah! I told you so,” Meimei’s sharp voice rang from her left year. She rolls her eyes. Clearly this woman was either tremendously stupid or too spoiling of her daughter. After all, how was Meimei going to learn that there are only 60 seconds in a minute if her mom was lying to her like that. She runs into another room, where there were a group of men talking. As she approaches, they all look up and smile at her.

“Yanyan, how are you?” One of them questioned.

Furious that she was just denied, she launched into her debate anew, “Meimei and I are wondering how many seconds there are in a minute.” She didn’t want to bring up Meimei’s mom’s indiscretion. It might make her look bad.

“Why there’s 60 seconds of course.”

“Meimei says there are 100, and her mom said that she’s right, but I wanted to ask you because I knew I was right and she was wrong.” It all slipped out of her. It was like she just had verbal diarrhea.

The man laughs and looks at both the girls. Finally, he says, “Well, you’re right. Meimei 100 seconds sure does sound like it makes sense, and that’s a good guess, but the right answer is 60. Now, which one of you can tell me what time it says on my watch? Meimei? Yanyan?”

Meimei, pissed that she was just proven wrong and didn’t get her way, smiles and runs away to her mother. Her dad, having heard the conversation and disappointed that his wife would teach her daughter a lie just to appeal to the girl’s ego, also leaves. All of a sudden shy and taking too much time, she looks over at the man’s watch. It seemed like forever. Locating the bigger hand and counting until it stopped, she determined it was 5 o’clock. Now, the shorter hand was past that. 5:36pm. She repeated her answer to the man.

“That’s very good. You did a splendid job. Now, you need to practice on being able to do that faster. That’s something you need to work on. Just because you’re right about the minutes and seconds with Meimei doesn’t make you perfect. Instead of yelling at her for what she got wrong, you should be working on learning more. Do you understand?”

She was shocked. She was the one who was right. Meimei was always the one who got what she wanted, and now she of all people was being chastised because she finally got her way. Numb and bright red, she nodded and looked down. If there weren’t so many strangers hanging out in the room, she would have started crying.

From out of the corner, another man jokes, “Oh, Cao, don’t be so hard on her. She can tell the time; she was just a little nervous, weren’t you?”

Still looking at the floor, she nods.

“See? Now, you’re just being mean to this precious girl.”

The man makes his way to her and scoops up her face with his right hand. She looks up at him obediently.

“Do you think Yanyan looks like her father or her mother?”

Some chimed in mother and others father. “What do you think, Yanyan?”

“Both. I look equally like my parents.”

The men laughed. Most girls would tend to say their mother. “Well if you had to pick between your parents, which one would you pick?”

“I wouldn’t pick. I’d want both of them.” Again, most girls, especially after being separated from their fathers for over a year, would have picked their mother.

“Well, what if you had to pick? What if you didn’t have a choice?”

“I don’t care. I would pick both.”

“But…”

“Leave it alone. Clearly, she’s getting upset. Yanyan, go and play. Shushu (Uncle) was just messing with you.”

She nods furiously, so hard that her mom jokes that her head was like a bulanggu (drum), and runs off.

[This pretty much has nothing to do with the excerpt.  I just love this pic I took of White Sands in New Mexico.]

November 20, 2008

Kara, Walt & 300 of Their Best Friends

Maybe not 300.  Maybe not their best friends.  But the 6th Annual Gadgets Event hosted by the Churchill Club was pretty freakin’ awesome.  As part of their PR Agency, I got to attend and see some of the coolest gadgets out there.  Some are out.  Some aren’t.

Along with Kara Swisher and Walt Mossberg,  Evan Williams, Twitter Co-Founder and CEO, and Greg Harper, co-founder of Gadgetoff, showed off gadgets from fuel cells to a Star Wars Wii controllers (with LEDs that light up the laser end of the light saber).  Here’s a quick and dirty look of my favorites:

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This is the Flip Mino HD.  Not only is it smaller than the gen 1 Flip, but it also records in full HD.  As usual, the minimalist design and buttons on the back make operating tres easy, as does the pop out USB connector up top.  Retail: about $229.

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When a friend from Portola Valley, home of many a well-to-do/VC types, invited me over for dinner and discussed such a portable projector, I quickly dismissed it as totally impossible.  A projector this small?  Will it actually work or explode into a burning mess?

So I was ridiculously wrong (like that hasn’t happened before).  This little guy is not much bigger than an iPod, as you can see, and from the demonstration that Greg gave, the projection looks amazingly clear with pretty good color precision.  Retail: $300-500.

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There’s also the phone projector.  I couldn’t find the exactly image of the one that Greg showed, but this is pretty close.  It’s shaped exactly like the iPhone, except longer and even has the same interface.  My guess that it’s from China- looser copyright laws.  No idea on the price, and to be honest, I’d probably skip gen one.  If the product works well and with MS Office, you’ll never had to carry a laptop and projector to a presentation again.  A carry case that comes with a laptop connector (for troubleshooting) and a laser pointer, would make this a top sell for all the corporate types. :-)

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This is the much talked about Blackberry Storm.  For those with Verizon (and not stuck with *cough cough* AT&T), the Storm is supposed to be an iPhone killer.  From what Walt showed us on Tuesday night… not so much.  What’s with Blackberry’s need to use that weird non-QWERTY keypad?  And why would you include the numeric keypad for typing text?  Silliness.  It does have international SIM card slot and GMS but doesn’t work in the US (a.k.a. doesn’t work with other mobile services).  Retail: $249 with a $50 rebate, which puts it at the same range as the iPhone.

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Unlike the Blackberry, because it’s less useful but so much cooler, is Plantsense.  This doo-hickie has a pronged fork at the bottom that you stick into the ground.  It detects the soil PH, moisture, etc., while the green flower up top takes measurements from the air, like light and moisture.  Then (of course), it snaps open to reveal a USB stick, which plugs into your computer and gives you a detail analysis of the flora conditions and what plants would best suit the conditions around you.

This is perfect for me.  My last two plants have sadly died and I’m not sure what to grow anymore.  The window next to my office gets blazing sun from morning until noon and shade for the rest of the day.  I think my last plants, local wild flower varieties, died from sun poisoning.  They were growing fine one day and limp and dark green the next.  Retail: $59.95.

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The femtocell, made by Samsung for Sprint, extends the cell network anywhere you go.  Just plug it in, and it acts like a cell tower, giving you full bars with a radius of 1, 500 feet.  Greg mentioned that other cell carriers have a similar product, and he loves it when he’s in the middle of New York State and needs some bars in hicksville.  I don’t think I’ll be getting one soon, but if you’re like my ex, who lives in a stone house, please consider it on your Santa list.  Retail: a couple hundred plus any subscriber fees, $15-30/month for Sprint customers.

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I started with one of my favorite (the high quality, useful & inexpensive Flip cam), so I’ll end with one too.  This is the Panasonic SDR-SW20.  I’m not 100% sure what that means, except this: it’s a waterproof camcorder that takes pictures too.  And not waterproof, i.e. you can splash water on it.  It will actually go into the swimming pool with you!…!!!  I know!

This lightweight little contraption also comes with wi-fi, which means that you can automatically back up the videos and images on your computer inside the house, while you’re playing underwater (or if you’re my friend in her apartment’s pool, giving a back story to the bandaid floating near the bottom of the pool).  I haven’t hear much feedback on how well the camcorder works in salt water, i.e. on a scuba dive in the Caribbean, but will report back during an unboxing party. :-P Retail: about $282.

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Those were some of the highlights of the evening.  Others like the singing Elvis, which already made a debut on the Late Show with Letterman, and a tiny camera on a stick like those you see in the proctologist’s office, weren’t as exciting.  I can’t wait to see some of these products on market.  With the marketplace in a coma, this is a great time to buy cool gadgets with deep price discounts.  w00t!

November 8, 2008

NaNoWriMo Novel: Except II

Writing’s actually going pretty well.  There’s so much to talk about that I’m not quite sure where to start or end.  Right now, I’m just trying to pen as many individual scenes are possible and worry about stringing them together later on.  I posted my first day of writings here.  A week in, here’s what I penned today:

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It was cold. Her toes felt exposed. She tried to shift under the stiff sheets, but her body felt heavy and cumbersome. When she attempted to lift her hands to rub her face, she felt her hand tethered to something next to her bed. She could hear her wheezing breaths. In and out. In and out. Lulled by the calmness around her, she allowed herself to go back to sleep.

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The door clicked open and shut. Instinctively, she tilted her head to follow the sound. Soft rubber shoes squeaked towards her in quick, purposeful steps. A cool hand reached over and touched her temple. She felt something plastic being adjusted near her throat. There’s a slight tug on her left hand, and a coolness spread through the top of her hand. All of a sudden, the room’s cold. Whoever was with her tucked in the blanket and spread another blanket over her, hands trembling while folding the blanket under her legs and feet. Maybe she was the one trembling. For some reason, she didn’t feel hungry, just empty. Shuddering, she turns her head to the right and rests on the firm pillow.

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“Baby? Mommy’s here. Can you hear me?”

Soft, warm hands cover hers. Her brain jerks to consciousness. The female voice coos only several feet from her face. She hears the screeching jerks as the metal chair was pulled closer to the bed. When she was fully awake, the coldness started to dawn on her again. For the first time since she felt this way, she tries to open her eyes. They wouldn’t budge. Her lids weighed heavy, and she could feel her eyeballs straining to force them up. She can’t remember the last thing that happened before she felt this way. Life seemed normal until. Until what? She wasn’t sure.

“My precious. You look so thin. If you can hear me, just tap your fingers okay. Your dad’s talking to the doctors and will be in here soon.”

There was a sort of forced strength in her mom’s voice. It was so low, she could barely hear. The chair lurched back a few inches, when her mom stood up to lean over her. As the mother kissed all over her face, she could feel and smell the wetness of salty tears. “Everything’s going to be okay.”

She tapped her fingers, which lay relaxed on the bed under her mother’s small, bony hands. She could feel the tautness of the skin, almost leathery but gentle. Again, she tried to open her eyes. She pushed and tugged at the lids until they finally opened. Slowly, she blinked. There was a lot of light in the room. At first she couldn’t make out anything but piercing whiteness. Blinking a few more times, her eyes started to dilate. Everything looked blurry, like a thick coat of fog had set over the room. To the left, she saw a dark blur. When the figure realized that her eyes were open, it moved closer to her, tilting back and forth looking for a sign of recognition.

“Hi, baby. How are you feeling?”

Her mouth opened, but no sounds came out. Instead she heard an ugly sort of gurgling and felt an extreme shock of pain emanate from her throat. Instinctively, she furrowed her brown and scrunched her face together in pain. She wanted to whimper but was afraid of causing even more pain.

“Hold on, baby. I’ll go get a nurse.”

Eyes closed again, she heard her mother dash out the room, the door closing shut with a soft click. If she could, she would sit up and scream. But she couldn’t move anything. Her whole body screamed in pain with her trapped inside it.

Finally, a cold gust of wind passed over her as the door opened. The rubber shoes were back.

“She tried to talk but only made this gurgling sound. Then, her face winced in pain. I… I don’t know what to do.”

“Calm down, ma’am. I’m just going to check that everything’s in place and that she’s all right. Then, I’m going to give her some morphine in the drip. Hopefully, that’ll calm her down.”

Cold hands passed through her forehead before quickly checking her palm and then her neck. A sticky tape was lifted from her throat, causing some of her skin to pull up. She realized that the plastic thing she felt before was actually in her throat. The hand adjusted the round plastic tube before replacing the tape on her neck. There was the ripping open of packaging. A quiet clang of glass that was placed onto a metal surface. The hands where doing something but she couldn’t tell what. Suddenly, she felt cold again. Her left hand throbbed. She tried to imagine what the likely female nurse looked like. Tried to determine her features only by the touch of the hands and sometimes and accidental brushing. Tried to think about anything to keep her feeling the pain. She’d open her eyes and attempt to squint out a silhouette, but her lids were heavy again and she couldn’t muster up the strength. The ear piecing pain started to subside. It was replaced by an euphoria and lightness. Her face relaxed. The last thing she heard was the nurse explaining to her mother that blood pressure was a good indicator of pain, so the monitor can help her gauge when to ask for more morphine.

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A man’s hands cupped her face. She jolts. She feels the hands let go and reach out to cup her left hand. Time didn’t play a role in her life at the moment. She can’t remember when it is or how long she’d been asleep. Her eyes were heavy and her hands felt swollen and raw. She couldn’t talk. She was truly trapped. There was only one thing left to do. He eyes fluttered inside the sockets, growing wet. The warm wetness bubbled out and rolled down the sides of her face into her hair. Someone to her right dabbed a soft tissue around her eyes. She could tell they were Puffs, soft and slightly greasy from the lotion.

“It’s okay, baby. Let it all out. It’s going to be okay.”

Her mom’s voice was cracking now. She felt lips on her left cheek and drops of warm liquid drip down from her mom’s face and down hers. Her mom held her like always, when she was crying after a fight or fit. She knew it was her dad sitting to her left now. He just sat there silently, firmly holding on to her hands and fitting her hand in his large palm as they did when walking outside. She especially remembers going to the Chinese grocery stores and holding his hand, even when she was 24.

“Mmmmgngmrnsrnmm…” She tried to say mommy, except her vocal chords wouldn’t listen. It didn’t hurt as much this time. She wasn’t sure if it was the emotion or the medicine or her body feeling better.

“Shhhh. Don’t say anything, sweetie. Your throat has to heal. Are you in pain?”

Mustering all her strength, she shook her head slowly and in a staccato from one side to the other. Her mom dabbed her face again. Her face started to relax.

“Sleep now. We’ll be here if you need anything.”

She squeezed her father’s hand, which shot a quick burst of pain down her arm, but she didn’t care. The scene was fading, and her consciousness floated away.

November 6, 2008

Alone

One phrase from Sex and the City strikes me.  “I’m lonely.  The loneliness is palpable.”  Carrie said it during her book party, after she found out that Berger has a girlfriend that lives with him.  It’s how I feel right now.  In an effort to get healthier and participate in NaNoWrimo, I’ve kept myself from making plans and going to all the events touted on Facebook.  Usually, it’s home, gym, dinner, writing, playing with cat and then going to bed.  It’s hard writing.  It’s a lonely business.  Everything’s in your mind.  I guess that’s why I’ve been reading so much lately, been trying to find some inspiration.  Carrie’s man was unavailable.  Mine’s emotionally so.  I don’t think I want to be alone anymore.

November 4, 2008

Please Go VOTE! No on Prop 8!

No matter what you think (O), please (B) don’t (A) forget (M) to (A) vote!! :-)

All kidding aside, this really is an important move and probably one of the crucial votes of our lifetimes.  Not to be overly dramatic, but this election could literally dictate the continual leadership or the fall of the US Empire.  So honestly, whatever your opinions may be, please go out there and show that you appreciate the gravity of this election.

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As incentive:

Starbucks is giving out free coffee to those who say they’ve voted today.

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Krispy Kreme is handing out heart-shaped doughnuts with red, white and blue sprinkles.

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Ben & Jerry’s is giving out free scoops!

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On a personal note, I’m an FIRMLY AGAINST PROP 8. I understand that people are worried about the argument of gay marriage impeding on religious views, having LGBT rights being taught in schools and the value judgment that the definition of marriage is a union between a man and a woman.

This is what I have to say:

  • One of the reason people came/come to this country is for the right to practice their own religion, to believe what/who they want and live life their way.  Why would we suddenly take that right away and write it into the amendment of our constitution to forever remove the right for people to live their life?  Gay marriage isn’t a religion; it’s a singular act to express the love.
  • LGBT rights being taught in schools: seriously, it won’t promote “being gay” to children.  First of all, the deepest sense of values should come from the parents and not the schools.  That being said, yes, schools do affect how children grow up and act.  But how is teaching children that California promotes civil rights and equal treatment of all people a bad thing?  Being taught the feminist movement, doesn’t make us all feminists and believe feminism is the best thing since sliced bread.  It only teaches students to be more accepting.
  • I don’t really understand how gay marriage would intrude other people’s lives.  The Yes of Prop 8 people say that marriage is between a man and a woman.  EXACTLY.  It’s between those two people.  A.K.A. None of your business.  So why impede your opinions on someone else’s life?  It just doesn’t make sense to me.

I just think that we shouldn’t impose our views on others.  Especially when the marriage of LGBT members don’t affect straight people’s lives.  Honestly, they really don’t.  Just because you may not agree with their way of life, doesn’t give you the right to judge them and restrict their rights and actions.

It’s about equality.  It’s about acceptance.  It’s about the celebration of love.

November 4, 2008

Why My Cat Is Weird:

It’s been four months since I first brought Mon Petit Coeur home, which makes her 6 months old already!  She’s gotten really big and started to develop quick a personality.  Mostly, she’s gotten fat and more cunning, although also cuter, more endearing and still very playful.

I love her, and I think she’s starting to accept me as a permanent fixture in her life as well.

Muah!

1. In the Kitchen, she’s expectant.

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2. In the living room, she’s playful and absolutely hates to be pet.  I think it’s because I’m always saying “NO!” when she’s playing with the plant, and she’s all freaked out that I’m going to chase her around for being bad.  It’s also where her scratching post is.  I love that she actually uses it (I introduced it to her when she was still a baby and just arrived.  I put her in the bathroom for the first week, so she could get used to me and trust me… She’s really familiar with it. :-) ).

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3. In the bedroom, she’s super cuddly and purrs so much.  She also nestles in my arms and sucks and pushed on my arms, like I’m her mommy and she’s sucking on a nipple (no, I don’t have a nipple on my arm; yes, it’s a little weird, although very endearing).

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4. In the bathroom, she’s really curious and always playing hide and seek with me through the shower curtain or sitting in the sink.  Apparently, she loves licking sink water and then lying in it.  She’s also very fond of the bathtub.  Sometimes, she also drinks out of the toilet, which is really gross, so the lid’s almost always closed, unless I forget… which I don’t anymore, since she also likes nuzzling, smelling and licking me with the same tongue. (ewwwwwwww)…. :-P

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This is how little she used to be.  I’m so surprised that she’s grown so much… I totally didn’t notice!! Look how loose the collar is!

November 1, 2008

NaNoWriMo- Day 1

Hi.  I know I haven’t written much in the last two weeks.  All the anticipation of the novel and furiously reading as much as I can, has left me pretty tired and mentally worn out.

BUT today is the official start of National Novel Writing Month, and it’s going pretty well actually.  I’ve already penned 1761 words!  Not all of them are great, but I’m just worried about getting everything down right now and worrying about editing later.

If you’d like to support my efforts, it’s not too late to donate to NaNoWriMo and fund me going to the NIght of Writing Dangerously.  Just visit www.firstgiving.com/janyxu and contribute what you can. Thanks!

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Without further ado, here’s a lot excerpt from what I have down:

I’m not sure if my earliest memory is real or a fabricated mix from stories my parents used to tell and latent memories of my childhood that coagulated into a single dream. I was about one and half, maybe two. My mom worked at the local watch factory in Hefei, Anhui- one of the poorer provinces of China but close to the mountains and great at making tea. She left early in the morning every day to ride the thirty odd minutes to go to work. I’m sure our neighborhood was colorful with bricks and green trees, not too far from where my father worked at the local hospital/university. But in my memory or dream, the scenery grayed out.

We lived on the first floor of a three story building (maybe it was two), and in Hefei that meant cold winters and wet summers. The humidity would always soak up on the concrete floors in the rooms. Enough that my mom would have to mope the floor of its wetness. At some point, I had a crib, but I remember sleeping on the bed with my parents. They’d put a chair next to my side, so that I wouldn’t accidentally roll of the bed during sleep. I tended to toss and turn a lot. Still do, in fact.

On that particular day, I felt myself waking up as my mom quietly gathered her things to prepare for work. I didn’t open my eyes, lest she figure out that I was awake. The muffled swishes of fabric let me know that she was getting dressed in the far corner of the room, so that she wouldn’t wake me up. She grabbed her keys from the dresser next to the door, tip-toed down the hallway and as silently as possible, opened and shut our squeaky door.

I was one and a half (maybe two) and thought she was leaving forever. As soon as that door shut, I was off the bed, running across the room and after her, already on the bike and pedaling away. In my dream I would keep running. She was half way to work, and I was quickly losing ground, but I couldn’t let her get away. She was my mommy. I loved her. Why was she leaving me? I couldn’t figure it out. Somewhere in my head, I knew I was in college, in the US and comfortable in my extra-long twin sized bed in my fashion magazine covered dorm. But that thought was far far away. All I could think about was my mother.

In the distant, I knew my father had woken up to my screaming and movement. He was running after me to keep me at home and let my mother leave. Finally, she parked her biked outside the rakes in a glass-windowed factory building and noticed my snot-covered, sobbing face. She reached out to hold me and told me that she had to go to work. I couldn’t understand why she wouldn’t want to be with me. My parents exchanged worried looks before she handed me off to him. She went inside. I had lost.

My father was a grad student at the time (MD not PhD; he’d get that later in Germany), and though he worked long hours both taking classes and working, he slept in late, so it was his responsibility to take care of me, while my mom went off to work. I was an early riser. I’d wake up and immediately wanted to get up and start my day. But my dad wasn’t like that at all. He’d always drag me back into bed and hug and cuddle me, while I struggled to get away. Finally, I’d relent and let me just hold me, while I laid there wide-eyed and bored. After a while, I got used to it and would wake up and go back to sleep in his arms. I guess that’s where I get my habits today. I love spending the whole day in bed, chilling out and being totally relaxed. At any point, I could conveniently have a snack, watch TV, write, read or take a nap. Sure, it sounds slothful to many, but it’s also very convenient. And since I grew up a relatively clean person, my bed’s almost never made and always clean. The only things that adorn them are my duvet, two large pillows, my cell phone charger and cell phone and my laptop- a virtual mother that lulls me to sleep every night after episodes of The Boondocks or some mindless movie.

After I woke up, I couldn’t quite tell if I remembered the dream as a memory replayed or it was just a dream. I decided to confirm the story with my parents. The real version was almost eerily identical. I had woken up to find my mother leaving, had ran outside after her. She was, in fact, getting ready to ride her bike, but I didn’t by any means chase her to the factory. That didn’t make any sense, since I have no idea how a toddler could run far enough that she’d ride a bike for half an hour. That’s like three miles? Instead, she was riding off, when she heard a screaming toddler running after her- me. So she stopped, held and cooed me until I calmed down. She’d try to leave, but every time she let go, I’d start my ear drum piercing screaming again. Finally, she was already half an hour late, and had to go get my dad to hold me down as she rode away.

I swore to them that they’d never told me that story before. So how did I possibly know that it happened? Did my dream start innocently and some aspect of the memory sparked a dusty, unused nugget in my brain? Or was it totally coincidental? Maybe my parents did tell me that story, but I’d simply remembered the details and not them telling me. Whatever the rationale, it bothers me that during my second year of college, I was suddenly having this dream.

Of course, I didn’t want to grow up. As much as most of the students around me were planning their futures and taking heavy loads of finance or mechanical engineering, I was more interested in running the hell away and as fast as possible. Taxes? No thank you! Bills and getting married, living up to social expectations and living with the fact that most adults don’t have more than 10 very close friends? God no! I didn’t, and still don’t, understand why so many young adults race to erase the “young” prefix. I loved it. It meant that I had potential, but there was nothing having to do with living up to it. I didn’t have to prove anything because that was for the future. Right now, I’d just gotten into one of the best schools in the country, certainly the best business school and am comfortable enough with my environment that I just wanted to enjoy life. Not worry about this huge future looming overhead. The judgments of aptitude and worth, along with a worried expectedness.

That was probably what brought on the dream.

I’m in a very unique position, you see. I always tell people that if it hadn’t been for the Communist Revolution, that I wouldn’t exist. I know very little about my family history, but from what I did know, my mom’s side was fairly well-off and from a good sized, little town. Her great grandmother had been disgraced because her husband died, so she was subsequently sent back to her own family. It was a big no-no back in those days and deemed her a widow and lowered her family rank. But all in all, they had money, and from an influence of Chinese soap operas, a large courtyard and lots of decorated, octangular windows. On the contrary, my father’s family was largely from the farms. Many of my grandmother’s 7 other siblings still dwell in the little towns that dot the mountain range eight hours drive west of Hefei. The trek was retardedly slow and up dangerous, narrow mountain passes that almost meant my certain doom years after my parents met, married and had me. So theoretically, without the equalizing forces of Mao and reeducation in the country, my parents would have no chances of meeting. Actually, fate is fairly ironic. At the time, my mom worked in a watch factory and my dad was getting his MD. They basically switched social classes.

But I couldn’t, at the time, confirm or deny the story. It’s just what made logical sense in my head. I’ve moved around enough at a very young age, that I could probably make up any type of bullshit that I wanted to. The kids from the sheltered German school have no idea what life was like in China. Neither did the elementary school students from the very Texan public school called Mark Twain. In fact, with them, I would talk in German or Chinese and confuse the fuck out of them. I didn’t. I was a good child. But I could.

In high school, I realized exactly how nerdy I was. Before then, I was blissfully happy, if not ignorant, and didn’t care. So what if I didn’t know who MC Hammer or Moesha was? I had Mozart and Beethoven. Liszt throwing a glove at Beethoven and their subsequent feud. Did Moesha have that?

Yeah. NERD. Like not Pharrell N-E-R-D. But NNNNEEEEERRRRRDDDDDDDD…DDDAAAAHHHH….

Then, I moved to Philadelphia for college, where no one really knew me. (Thank God… err if I believed in you). I didn’t have to be nerd. Among nerds, and the errant rich kid who went to Penn instead of snobby Puck Frinceton or Harvard… or Yale, I could be anyone. That excited me.

Until sophomore year. When I didn’t want to grow up. And didn’t understand who I was. And didn’t want to grow up.

Of course, I did have to. Grow up that is. And I’m on the West Coast and non-the-smarter, but I’m a good bullshitter. Always have been, which is why I got into Penn. Which is why I never spent more than an hour on homework. Which is why I didn’t do so well at Penn. I got what I wanted out of the experience, and I’m happy.

From where you’re sitting, I’m a sarcastic, somewhat schizophrenic nerd, who just confessed to bullshit everything and enjoy lying. And you’re only on page three. Hah! Buckle your fucking seat belt.

October 27, 2008

Please Quarantine Your Kids

I think probably a lot of people go through this at some point in their lives, but the parents with the screaming kids between 0 and 6 are just a pain!  I went to the new Academy of Science this past Saturday with boy to see all the awesome exhibits.  [Clarification: so I could see all the awesome exhibits.  Apparently, he would rather have gone to the Redbull soapbox race the weekend before. I need to do more research on this species called 'men.']

As soon as we got there, I started noticing the kids crawling all over the place. It’s really hard for me to say, when I want to have kids some day, but I wish they were quarantined from public spaces such as certain restaurants, museums and public spaces until they learn how to behave.  OR have museums do more regular family days.  The Academy was full of kids this weekend.  And although I agree with Ty that hte museum is really a kids type place, there should be special days to separate the single/non-childrened people from the families.  I could not move around at all.  I kept bumping into them all over the place.  At one point, Ty bumped into a girl about 6 or 7, and she actually mugged him.  I’m like where di you learn to give such a dirty look?  You’re 6!

My plan is that kids should do extracurricular activities at all ages on Saturday.  Soccer.  Piano.  Dance.  Extra math and science classes.  Whatever.  Then, Sunday is officially fun day, where the whole family does something together.

  • This gives the adults time on Saturdays, when the kids are sent off, to do errands and adult things (I don’t mean sex, although that’s an option). Once you have kids, they tend to dominate all your time.  It’s great that some adults are so involved in their child(ren)’s lives.  I just don’t think they should lose themselves in the process.  This Saturday/Sunday system gives adults time to do them.  Further their education or hang out or hobbies.  Whatever they did pre-child-birthing.
  • Also the public areas, such as said museums, parks and places for single/non-child-attached people can go, aren’t inundated with screaming kids.
  • Kids are put into these extracurricular programs on Saturdays that allow them to be over-achieving, socially adept and well-rounded people.

Sunday, when un-child-attached people are running errands, we’ll forfeit these public spaces to the families.  Instead of the Saturday “adult time/kids need to be university-approved,” families have Sunday to bond and just have fun.

Of course, not everyone has a nuclear family, and situations aren’t always so near and predictable.  But if we all strive for this, it can workout.  I.e. if a couple if divorces, they can alternate Saturdays and Sundays.  One gets the child(ren) during the Saturday activity/homework day and one the funday Sunday.  Then, they switch.

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Okay, there’s no doubt that as I get older, my views and perspectives will change.  THis is simply where I stand today and right now.

All in all I had a great day.  After the museum (also see my Flickr set), we went home and ate grub while watching Saw.  Then, to the movies for Saw V.  Other than the gore, it’s not very scary (even for a scaredy cat like me, who screamed loud enough for the entire theater to hear).  More so, the movies are philosophical… to a certain extent.  They’re also badly made, slightly boring and 99% anticipation with 1% action, but aren’t most scary movies?

[Note: if you haven't seen the Saw series, you'll probably not understand what I'm talking about.  Please find some time to watch the first one or read about it... I think the movie's concept is very thought provoking.] I keep wondering, “How much do you value your life?”  Would you cut off your own foot?  Or murder someone else?  What gives someone the rigt to force this type of decision on us?  It’s easy for us to pontificate sitting in the comfort of a movie theater or at home, but would we act so different in that situation?  Would we panick?  Would we be more logical?  It seems the besty way is to trust each other.  But when the other person can use that knowledge against us, would we really still disclose all?

I’m a blogger and am very comfortable talking about my life, thoughts and problems, even if it displays a less than perfect version of myself.  (It’s a new perspective and resume.  You don’t have to be perfect.  But you do have to be honest, do good work and really have passion about what you’re doing.)  What about everyone else?  hmm…

Last note: I love that I had a whole day with boy.  Living about 50 miles apart and both of us having busy schedules, it’s rare that we have more than 5hours together, much less the 14 we ended up spending.  I love that he basically spent all his free time this weekend with me.  *lurvvveee* :-)

Okay last last note: Thanks to everyone who’s financially supported my novel writing attempt, whether it’s online, with cash or writing checks.  I still need to figure out how to add the offline amounts online.  If you want to support me, but haven’t, you can still do so here: www.firstgiving.com/janyxu.  Thanks!

You can see even more pictures from the excursion here.  I wish the photos were of better quality, but I forgot to take my camera.  I’m really glad the iPhone took some semi-pretty awesome shots for a camera phone.  And yes, I’m so going back on a third Wednesday (it’s free then), with my Canon (or better yet, one of my Dad’s many Nikons) and going at it.