Sleeping Pills

I used to write stories.
In one of them, I wrote a part on sleeping pills:

They say, 'it's not good for you. Don't rely on sleeping pills, stop taking them.'
She smiled but said nothing, because she recalled a conversation.
One of the many conversations with him.
She once asked him, 'they all ask me to quit sleeping pills, why didn't you do the same?'
She still remembers his answer vividly.
All of the sudden, the world around her faded out and went silent.
Except that she could almost hear his voice saying, 'if you don't need it, you will quit it without me asking.'
Yes, that would be his answer if he were there.
She knew that would be his answer, though he wasn't even there.
She nodded and smiled faintly.
Not to those who ask her to stop taking sleeping pills, but to him--he was right. He is right.

Just a small part of a story I wrote some time ago.
Just some pointless story I write when I have so much in my mind but I couldn't utter a single word.
I wanna add the following to the part on sleeping pills:

They don't understand.
They don't understand that she needs temporary relief--that moment when the sleeping pill comes to effect.
That moment when her body begins to feel light, feathery and relaxed.
That moment when the thoughts in her mind eventually slow down and stop running in her head.
That moment when her sorrow, fear, worries and anger, together with all the thoughts in her head, are consumed and vanish.
That moment when she want to scream or out out loud but couldn't, because she lost control of her body.
That moment when she feels like she lost control to a tiny pill and yet she knows that losing this battle is good for her that she could finally stop crying, though tears still roll down her cheeks involuntarily.
That moment when things stop suffocating her.
That moment when the roaring storm begins to die down and turns into peace. Not a real peace, but the peace before the next storm.
That moment of artificial and temporary peace, the peace before the next storm.

The next day, things are just the way they were.
She knew it so clearly.
But she needs that artificial peace to keep her sanity, at least a superficial sanity.
She has been trained for that all her life: poised, well-behaved, quiet and calm. Smiles. Well-dressed.
Those are all her armors.

Of course, there are moments that she is unarmed--like the few minutes before she falls asleep and the moments when she just woke up.
She knows exactly that loneliness and sorrow can creep through her armors, but the point is: no one else know.
No one else knows her battle with what's in her mind.
'That's good', she thought to herself, smiled and slowly walked into the crowd.
The crowd in which no one knows what is in her mind.
The crowd which no one knows who she really is.
(To be continued)

Expanding the stories that I wrote gives me such a dejavu.
History repeats so much that I'm so sick and tired of being trapped in the whirlpool of emotions and memories.
That found-and-lost cycle that I can never seem to escape.
At times, writing helps to soothe it a bit.
Other times, it worsens the situation.
Pretty much like what sleeping pills do.

Love,
N

Worried

When you worry or think about someone, time seems to pass in an unbearably slow manner.
Whenever I feel like giving up or feeling weak and hopeless, I'd like to think that someone might worry about me the same way that I care about people I hold dear.

When in difficulty or trouble, remember that you are not alone.
Someone might be worrying about you.
Stay strong.

Love,
N

Live Jazz

One of the many things that make my stay enjoyable is the live jazz in CoHo, the coffee house.

Every night, 10 to 12.

Live jazz gigs are only available during the Jazz Workshops (summer camps) and the Stanford Jazz Festival.

As I type, I'm sharing this lovely live music and cozy atmosphere with a few dozens people.

I love it when the audiences know and truly like what they are listening to.

I love the subtle playfulness of bebop and how the improvised parts always surprise and amuse me.

I love it when the audience catch the humor of the tune, smile to those particularly well-played notes, knows exactly when to clap or 'woohoo!', tap their feet and sway to the music, etc etc.

All because they are so focused and into the music. 

Just like me, if not more.

This is not the place for work or read or conversation.

Those talented musicians know how to steal your attention, with those brilliantly played tunes that make you stop whatever you are doing and turn to stare at them.

Looking at these young musicians who are more or less my age, I wish I could be as talented as they are.

Excellent music :)

Love,
N

Typhoon

This might sound crazy: I want to feel the typhoon right now.
The typhoon (signal no. 10) which is making houses shake and making people worry about whether glass will break.
I want to feel powerless and in awe when I look at the dark, heavy clouds that blanket the city.
I want to feel it physically--the power of nature.
I have the urge of hearing winds roar and get soaked wet from the non-stop heavy rain.

At the same time, I'm in this place with almost perfect weather--sunny, warm and bright, with clear sky.
The ironic thing is I'm having this level-10 typhoon or storm in my head.
Thoughts are getting louder and louder and racing in my head that I just wanna scream out equally loud.
But I just can't.
I don't even have the power to scream out loud.
I got so blown away by my own thoughts that I'm totally speechless.
I don't even know what I'm writing now, because I don't even know what I'm thinking.

Whenever there is bad weather, the advice is always gonna be: Stay safe.
Stay in somewhere safe and sheltered so you won't be hurt.
I guess it applies to this storm in my head too, I should just stay in somewhere safe, secure and take no risk.
Well, it is gonna go, what I feel and how I feel now.

We can never avoid storms, but positivity is our own sunshine. :)

Love,
N

Home (2)

When my friends suggested a night out last night, I was having a total different idea about what a 'night out' means.

My definition of a night out certainly does NOT include the following:

1) going to a bar without wearing a bra 

2) grabbing condoms to prepare for casual sex with strangers

3) spending 30 mins waiting for a shuttle bus and walking another hour half for god knows how many miles just to get to the bar.

Okay, the first two things might be something that many people do, but sorry, that's not me.

And the 3rd item on the list...Seriously?! Walking for an hour half just to get there?!

Does clubbing or drinks worth THAT much effort?

I was totally jaw dropped thinking, 'these people must love clubbing so much, to a point that they think the walking is nothing!'

If they ever have the chance to come to HK, I bet they would not leave it just because of the REAL night life we have.

Imagine yourself getting tipsy or drunk, who'd want to walk 2 hours back? 

By the time you got back, you are probably not drunk anymore.

Being astonished by the ridiculous idea of walking more than an hour half just to get there and another hour half back, I couldn't care less about how anti-social I was and took a cab back to the dorm.
For reasons that I cannot comprehend, an American girl in the group got a bit angry at the fact that I left the group.
I find it so funny and kept smiling to her saying 'I'm sorry. I'm tired. I have to go back' etc etc when I was actually thinking, 'now talk about individuality and freedom.'

When I was on my way back, I was highly alert by how dark it was and how empty the streets were.

To ease that anxiety and discomfort I was in, I kept looking up in the sky and watched the stars.

It was beautiful and rare, for a city girl like me, that the sky is full of bright stars.

Yes, it was dangerous to be on a cab late and alone.

But it was still the right or wise thing to do.

So when I got back around midnight, I took a beer up to my room and started video chatting with my best friend.

To be honest, not that I dislike spending time with my friends here, but I was so glad that I left early.

I think I have surpassed the age of chain clubbing, irresponsible drinking and casual sex. 

Or maybe it never really did happen in my life because it is just not me. And I'm not sorry about it.

I'm not sorry about it at all when this morning I went to the bathroom, passing a few rooms and saw strangers walking out of my friends' rooms.

Perhaps it's not a big deal for them because clearly they were having a good time, but it was embarrassing for me because I don't know if I should say 'good morning' to them or just walk pass them as if I didn't see anyone and they didn't exist.

The idea that 'I'm sharing a bathroom with these girls who sleep around all the time, it's gross!' kept coming to my mind.

Terrible.

To make myself feel better, I went shopping the whole day.

I feel disabled here, where I have to wait for buses that only come once in an hour just to get me to the shopping centre (such a waste of time and how inefficient!) and that I don't have a car or a driving license and can only rely on the buses.

Since I'm this crazy shopaholic who feel disabled because I didn't shop for so long, I feel so much better after a day at the mall.

For a moment, I thought to myself, 'with shopping, I feel like I'm home.'

I guess it's natural because I live in a city where everything is accessible and convenient.

I have been making a lot of comparisons between things in the US and in Hong Kong.
I guess all the comparisons are pointless, because what I said in one of the group discussion describes exactly how I feel:
'there are things that I dislike about the place I live and grow up in, but I guess it does not matter if it is a bad place or a good one. I'm gonna love it forever simply because it is home'.

I miss home. And I love it.

Love,
N

New Experiences

Here I am in a place where I couldn't imagine I'll be in.
A place that sounds too far from me, geographically or in terms of qualification needed.
But the fact is, I'm here.
Right here, right now.

Am I nervous and anxious?
Yes, very nervous because I feel inadequate and not as good as others.

Am I excited?
Yes, very excited too.
Finally I get to learn what I'm very interested in.
Finally I see connection or link between the disciplines that trapped me in between (pretty much like finding a way out at the same time).
Finally things make sense.

From psychology, I learnt that every new thing or experience, even if it's a good one, is a stressor at the same time.
In that sense, I'm totally stressed out now.
First time I don't see my family for so long.
First time I come to the States.
First time I travel with my boyfriend.
First time of me being the only Asian in the class.
First time I have a political science class of this size.
First time I have classes with people who are so much more ahead of me on the academic ladder.
First time that I live in a dorm/ have a roommate/ share a toilet etc etc.
The list goes on and on and on.

The point is: Don't let the fear stop you from trying something new.
Sometimes we only see the bad side of things, which only makes us fearful on what's coming up next.

It maybe be something good. 

If it's not immediately good, it will either turn out to be good eventually, or that you can make another change later on.

And maybe it's not as scary as what you think or imagine.

What I'm trying to say is: be brave.

We all have fears and insecurities, but don't be paralyzed by them.

What if I was paralyzed by my application phobia? Would I be here? Most certainly not.

How did I overcome that application phobia? 

I didn't do it alone. I was encouraged to make this application.

Dear readers, you are not alone either.
Be brave. Go create new experiences.
Ask yourself, 'when was the last time you did something for the first time?'

Waking up is nice, because it's a brand new day you wake up.
Today is a brand new day. Live it well.

Love,
N

Great Arm Exercises

I blogged about biking on the Golden Gate Bridge, remember?
That night when I go to bed, my thighs were in so much pain and sore that I couldn't fall asleep.
Worse than that, it was so painful that I can't help but cried.
The very first time that I cried because of intense muscle pain.
Shocked my boyfriend when he found me weeping in the middle of the night.
The next day, it became a joke between us. (And now all my readers know it)
Well, yes, it is a lame reason to cry.
Ended up taking 2 panedols.

Talking about exercise, I found a great (or not-so-great) way to train my arm muscles, thanks to my inability to pack light.
What's better exercise than carrying a 60lbs-or-more luggage alone?
Getting it on the bus or shuttle is already a challenge for me.
After knowing that I'm going to stay at a beautiful house on campus, I have a feeling that bedrooms are on the 2nd floor which is usually the case.

Waiting for the check-in to start.
Please start on time, I have had enough of this 60lbs luggage!
Now I just wanna throw away everything or mail things that I can't throw away back home.

Update: Checked-in. I live on the 3rd floor. Wonderful workout.

Love,
N

Baby...You Stink!

I couldn't decide whether the Stinking Rose, a garlic restaurant, is a romantic or an unromantic place for a date.
The motto of the restaurant 'we season our garlic with food!' tells you how garlicky the food is.

I don't particularly enjoy eating garlics. 

Garlic spread and finely chopped garlic are fine.

But a whole clove or raw garlic? No thanks.

Having dinner in a restaurant where every dish uses plenty of garlic? Not something I'd normally do.

But since I'm a tourist, why not?

We ordered their signature Bagna Calda, which is garlic cloves oven-roasted in extra virgin olive oil and butter with a hint of anchovy, served in an iron skillet, for spreading on focaccia bread.
To make it simple, it is a small pan of garlic in olive oil.
Surprisingly, the garlic cloves in the bagna calda are sweet.

Bagna Calda

For entree, we ordered 40 cloves garlic chicken. Yes, you heard me  read it right!
The chicken was marinated and cooked with 40 cloves of garlic. Served with mashed potatoes with garlic olive oil.
Though it is strong in flavor, the dish doesn't taste garlicky at all. Very tasty dish.

40 Cloves Garlic Chicken. And yes, those are garlic cloves on the right.

Our another dish was a pasta: clams with fresh black linguine in garlic parsley shallot sauce.
Again, it is not garlicky. Somehow light actually. Very tasty also.

Clams with fresh black linguine

It was a great meal with tasty,heavenly food, but the next day is hellish.
I think the Stinking Rose is a wonderful place to test how much your boyfriend or girlfriend loves you.
Go there for a date, see if he/she still kisses you the next morning.
It is pretty impressive if anyone could bear with that stinky breathe.
I don't have to describe to you how gross the stinky breathe is after a garlicky meal.
Certainly one of the most appalling and anti-social things.

Well, I have discovered another very appalling thing about having garlic: the breathe is not the only thing that becomes stinky.
Don't share a bathroom with a person who ate plenty of garlic. (makes me wanna vomit just typing this)
Everything smell much worse.
I swear to you it is worse than kissing the person!

So, did he and I kiss this morning?

Well, I didn't eat any raw or half-cooked garlic.
Well-cooked garlic is way less stinky than raw ones.
I smell/taste fine, pretty much like how I usually smell/taste.
But my boyfriend enjoyed some really garlicky sauce made with plenty cloves of raw garlic.
Poor me.

This morning I found myself screaming and pushing him away,
'Honey, not that I don't love you. But please don't kiss me until you have a few mints and a bottle of green tea. Baby...you stink!'

The Stinking Rose is certainly worth going to.
Warning:
1) Don't go there for the first date.
2) Don't go there if you expect to end the night with a lot of kissing (and maybe more).
3) Prepare mints and green tea.

Bon appétit!
Maybe I should write a series of posts on stinky food e.g. durian and stinky tofu.
Ewwww, no!

Love,
N

Being A Sporty Tourist in San Francisco

For those who know me in person, you know that I'm not a sporty girl.

So, surprise! I did some sport today.

Went cycling for 5 to 6 hours straight, to visit a few tourist spots.

Okay, okay, you got me. 

I don't know how to ride a bike. 

I was on a tandem bike so I don't have to do any balancing.

But technically, I did cycled today, just that I wasn't the one controlling the directions.

Okay, that is not what this post is supposed to be about.

The highlight of this on-a-bike-sightseeing day was crossing the Golden Gate Bridge in the fog.

It was very windy (my hair went crazy, hundred times more crazy than my usual crazy hair).

It was very cold, freezing cold. 

We believed that it was less than 10 degrees celsius on the bridge. 

So cold that I couldn't feel my fingers. My lips and nose tip were icy cold.

I stood on the side of the bridge, the wind was roaring.

I looked into a distance, nothing but a thick thick layer of fog.

I looked down, just the ocean with waves.

I read it just yesterday that the Golden Gate Bridge is a popular site for suicides--a person a week, on average.

I looked down again, thinking 'deadly height' and 'it must be freezing, the wind and the icy cold water'.

Then I thought 'why can't people put up nets along the bridge to prevent suicide attempts? That could save lives!'

I wish they did.

Anyway, picture time.

'Topless' Golden Gate Bridge

Very foggy

Fog descending from the mountain, after we reached the other side of the bridge

View on the bridge

My thighs and butt are so sore that I can barely move now. 

Still feeling the burning sensation.

Climbing up the stairs in the hotel is so painful. Ouch!

One good thing about living in a cheap hotel above the bars--free music.

Tonight they're playing jazz. (thank god it's not those party electro music again!)

The jazz performance tonight is good. They are playing well. 

Love it!

Goodnight my dear readers.

More updates tomorrow. Stay tuned.

Love,

N

Unexpected Place to Blog

On a Greyhound bus, during my 8-hrs ride to San Francisco.

My Heart & Mind

Feeling terribly sorry for not being able to be at home in this difficult time.
I know they'd understand, I know they'd want me to be here, learning and doing what I am interested in.
Yet, I feel like I'm such an un-caring and self-centered person.

Going to take Greyhound bus to San Francisco tomorrow early in the morning, but couldn't care less about packing now.
I could only send them my love and support from thousands miles away.
I wish they could understand how much I miss them and want to be with them right now.
This urge is so strong that the only words to put it is that my heart and mind are back at home with them, leaving my body here in the US.

Do you know how it feels?

I wish I could be home now...
If only I could be home now...

Do you know how it feels? :'(

Dear readers,
Not all families have the habit of saying 'I love you' to each other or giving hugs, and I'm not saying that those are the only ways to show love.
But please show each other some love, starting from your family.
Just do small little things like calling your parents just to say hi, making breakfast, writing little notes, etc.
It's all the small things that count, isn't it?
Love those who deserve your love.
Leave no regrets :)

Love,
N

Best Find in San Diego

Went to San Diego the last few days, back to LA now.
The harbor cruise to Coronado, the zoo and Safari park were great.
(except a bit too chilly that I caught a cold now..)

I found something during my stay in San Diego.
We rent a car and brought our own GPS. Still, sometimes we made the wrong turns.
Then we discovered something that made me screamed with joy in the car.
Pretty much like what happens in life: unexpected things happen.
Sometimes shit happens.
But at the same time, the best things happen in the most unexpected times too.

My dear readers,
See what I've found: Before I die blackboards!
Blogged about this long ago. I'm still crazy about this idea.
Really excited to see it with my own eyes.
And yes, I wrote down my answer. (though limiting myself to 1 answer is a very difficult task)

Picture time:

Yup, that's me.

Me and people on the street.

I wish we could have these boards in my city, to make people stop and think.

Love,

N

Home

Chinese believe that the spirits of people who passed away would go home on a particular day after their deaths.

It might be yet another superstition.

But because of this tradition, I wrote something for my big brother so that he will have something to read when he goes home.

Wanted to write the whole thing with a smile, because he loves to make us happy and because I don't want him to worry about us.

But I just couldn't.

I couldn't stop crying.

It still feels like it happened yesterday. 

It still feels like I've just seen him in a family gathering not long ago.

It still feels like he have never left us.

But feelings fool. 

He left us. Forever.

S, I miss you. 

Could you hear me?

Come home and read what I wrote for you, ok? 

Love,

N

Hello from Los Angeles!

Taking long haul flights is a terribly exhausting thing, esp that my travel agent didn't reserve aisle or window seats for us.

So basically, for more than 10 hours, we were trapped by strangers.

There was a girl next to us that basically was dead asleep all through the 12 hours. And because she didn't even move, we were trapped.

Couldn't sleep very well on the plane and the entertainment system was broken (lucky me), I was so bored but people around me were all asleep. 

I was completely trapped. Lucky me.

Then all of a sudden, the thought 'taking long haul flights is awkward and intimidating' came to me.

Imagine, you are actually surrounded by over a hundred completely strangers who are sleeping. Most of us are so exhausted that we couldn't care less about what we wear, how we look, etc. And with the long hours of flying, I'm sure some of the passengers didn't take a shower before they board and didn't brush their teeth during the flight.

Even though I showered before the flight, I feel dirty after flying twice, a total of 15 hrs.

And probably I'm looking as terrible as they do.

Think about it, it is actually...ew!

But luckily that doesn't affect my mood.

Well, LA is not as beautiful as I thought. Most of the places are old and empty.

I actually think Turkey is way way way more beautiful and looking more 'developed' than here.

The weather is lovely, warm and dry though a bit chill at night and early in the morning.

Such a low humidity means my hair is perfect: no frizzy hair. Yet, not good for the skin.

I actually ate more Chinese food here than I do at home, which is awkward.

For the past few days, we had Chinese food, Hong Kong style Cha Chan Tang, Korean BBQ, Taiwan food, Vietnamese Pho and will having Japanese food tomorrow.

Feel like I'm in the States? No. More like I'm in a part of China with cleaner streets and without the stinky smell.

And 90% of people I see are Chinese or Asians. 

Well, for those who know me, think of how I describe Chinese.

I'm actually right, am I not? I'm mean. :)

Went to a few places already. And so far my favorite places are the 2 art museums that we visited.

Anyone who loves photography, esp photos of architecture, would love the place. 

Absolutely gorgeous. I could spend an entire day there. 

Too bad I'm not alone so I can't stay too long... 

And I went to the university that my cousin used to study at.

Funny feeling that I'm going to the places that he used to be at, used to study and used to live.

I still miss him.

My dear readers,

Teach me how to not gain weight from the trip. 

Food is so cheap here that it basically costs nothing.

No, healthy food cost but junk food are very cheap.

This is completely sick and wrong.

Anyway, I'm enjoying my trip in general.

And have I told you the best way to cure a jet lag? 

Go straight to downtown for a walk and shopping.

Didn't go on a spree, just got myself a pendant.

 

Love,

N