Always, Always, Always The Same Plot

Things have been pretty rough these days - whether it's because of me or the people around me no longer concerns me. Our world has seen too many examples of misunderstandings due to lack of communication and mutual respect/trust. Chances are that either is fueling the situation. Worst case, could be both.

Phone chat with W on the way home was like a dying camel desperately searching for water in a desert - it came just in time. Apparently someone's laid down all his cards on the table. Winner gets it all. What is it that we are all looking for in the game of love? I hate to refer to it as a game but experience has taught me to reluctantly put it this way. We fear of getting hurt and losing in the game. What's there to lose when you actually start off with nothing?

Correct me if I'm wrong. People are addicted to the ecstasy of conquering. The theory works true in friendship and in romance. Love is patient. Love is kind. Talk about sacrifices and devotions in love? Maybe it does not have to be the person. Maybe it is really yourself that you love most dearly.



Waking up early in the morning allows me to hypnotize myself that I have earned more time for the day. There's so much I want to do in this life. Time has educated me that it's impossible to have everything perfectly mapped out.

Google introduced to the world today its web browser "Chrome", which is indeed exhilirating news to me. For some unknown reasons I haven't been getting along very well with IE. The best can wait, eh?

Things To Do Before I Die

• Afford my own car: Carrera 911
• Attend a My Chemical Romance concert in America
• Gamble at a casino
• Go to a top law school
• Be a great lawyer
• Watch a Broadway show
• Travel through the silk road and all the way to Tibet
• Build a library in Taidong in the name of my grandparents (children and young adults targeted)
• Write a book and get it published
• Learn how to make coffee
• Learn how to cook
• Be an amateur Chinese painting artist
• See the terra-cottas in Xian
• Give my parents a piece of my Chinese painting as a (b-day) gift
• Give my grandma a Chinese Buddha painting of mine as a gift
• Establish a foundation targeting child/women advocacy in the name of my parents
• Marry a man who I adore
• Fall in love
• Skydiving
• Get a tatoo
• Make a documentary film about the aborigines in Taidong

To the Poet D.T.

Tonight I'm in the mood of sharing a poem of mine with you, which was written in response to a friend after reading his anthology. Some asked if the poem's a declaration of my own thoughts on love. To be very frank with you, I don't have the answer myself either. I simply let the sentimenal part of me flowing out of my mouth and put down on words. Partly out of habit, mostly out of love.

If Love be one silky satin dress
embellished with miscellaneous emeralds and agates
I shall lay my fingers on—
put on the frock and dance gracefully
in the most sacred yet hazardous Parterre of Love

If shot by Cupid’s arrow be no more than
a series of felonies
Compulsively ambivalent yet recklessly fearless we kneel down
in the face of omnipotent Goddess of Love

If two purest souls were to mingle with each other
Though accused of committing such sinful crime
Love’s loyal worshippers shall seek for one holy sanctuary
to guard the fiery flame from perish

Dare not speak of Love?
I adore thee
Thou art to flee
Unreturn’d love is itself catalyst of grand poetry
"—the pay is certain, one way or another” comments Whitman

Should we be thankful?
or should we be scornful?
to the inspiration of our
not-so-happy lament of works

If love should be such bittersweet nectar wine
I shall take a sip—
and drink it to the fullest!

Seizing one needle in my hand
Meticulously I strive to mend
Love’s most deplorable discrepancy

Martians along with Venusians
Endlessly the journey goes on and on
To find the very companion to accompany along—

Still I have the pen in my hand—

Obsessively we move on—
And the song carries on.

Christmas in America?

"The aim of life is self-development. To realize one's nature perfectly--that is what each of us is here for."~Oscar Wilde

I have good reasons to believe most bloggers write in order to let the bad moods go away. No refresher attar or aroma candles are required. The writing process serves as an unconventional mental therapy - one of my personal favorites actually, besides watching a late night horror movie. Being a pathetic optimist is to dig out every little delight from the dullness of mundanity. House cleaning and leisure cooking have added unexpected spice to my countless study days. Random amusing chats with my roommate Ginny is another blast. Our breakfast/dinner topics go as far as the approaching blind date arranged by her tutor student's mom to my msn chat with Chi about whose Winne-the-Pooh is more adorable.

mine

Chi's

Hotel Rwanda is indeed both an inspirational and thought-provoking movie. Racism should never be tolerated in any human society. "Of those to whom much is given, much is expected." I am fortunate - and I'm much grateful.

Early the other night I had a small "reunion" talk with one of my best buds from elementary school. We talked about the good old days and my best friend Amy since age seven. All of a sudden I realized how much I MISSED the girl. Amy and I have known each other ever since we entered grade one. I can still remember the days when the two of us walked together after class dismissed. We chattered on and on along the walk and often had a hard time hanging up after a daily 1-2 hour phone chat. With Amy there are always endless stories to tell. Though she's currently an ocean away (Ms. Amy is now attending summer session at UCLA and will head back finishing up her final year at University of Edinburgh), my affection for her has never ceased for a second. Fifteen years later, and we're still talking. I have always believed in the idea of predestined affinity. All that we are to encounter/experience and the people to be friends with are all imprinted in Fate's X-map. In English it's called destiny. In Chinese we call it yuan. (Amy my love, I am in desperate need of a catch up with you! A skype date soon? I'm seriously exploring the possibility of attending your commencement in May.)

Never did I know Saturdays would be days that I look forward to. Weekend grocery shopping with Ginny have made us true family. If I do make it to Stanford, Li Qing would be my No.1 dream roommate. I am looking forward to skiing with you at Tahoe, love!

Time After Graduation

I must admit, time has been fleeting since graduation - swift enough for me to have no time mourning at the passing of time but to linger on the sweetness of being present. Culinary art is never something I'd imagine myself to master, but leisure cooking has indeed made my life unprecedentedly fruitful. My traditional Chinese painting teacher is indeed right about "cooking is just as a world of wisdom as painting.” Renowned for his splashed-ink portrayal of landscape, Zhang Da Quian - teacher of my teacher and one of the greatest art masters ever existed in contemporary Chinese art history - was equally known for his artful skills in cooking. I don't dream of becoming a professional artist as Zhang - yet I do expect myself to be an amateur Chinese painting artist and a professional "life artist".

Years passed, still I am the girl who I used to be – saying goodbye to people I love remains the first and foremost thing I hate to do of all. Anyone who’s known me for more than a chat over dinner would know of my obsession with Faye Wong and Xu Zhimo. We come to this world to find "the other half” of our spirit. Life would not be deemed complete without accomplishing the goal. That said, people always leave. That’s one inconvenient truth we must admit – the earlier the better.

You may wonder, aren't we all alone at last? An old Chinese saying goes: You can't bring it with you from before birth, and you can't take it with you after you're dead. (rough translation) To me some people seem to move on easy, while some can hardly ever let go of the past – be it painful or delightful. What's gone is GONE. To dwell on the old days is not an honor any wise person would happily fight for. I hate to talk about such what’s-the-true-meaning-of-life issues. Engaging in the debate is to me plain annoying, yet I do find myself repeatedly strangled by the attempt of dissecting the people and the world around me. My entire self is composed of one ambiguous contradiction - and I'm used to it.

I happened to read a blog entry of my cousin’s the other night - who’s now in his early 30s and works as a computer engineer in an airline company - that if he could go back ten years, he’d make his darn best to study abroad in Australia. I can't help but wonder, are 30 year olds too old to dream a dream? Is there an age limit to be qualified for a dreamer? Dare to dream. Dare to compete. I sure hope I can still live up to the sayings when pushing 40s, 50s and all the seasons to come.

I call it spiritual osmosis – we gradually learn to hold on tight and to set free as time goes by. Life is inevitably a journey replete with endless hurdles to leap. I'm shocked to learn many do find what I find preposterous not that bizarre.

Still I have the pen in my hand, and that's well enough for me -

at least for now.