Filed under: Random
I had the EXACT same dream for a second time.
This is the first time that the same dream occurred twice. Well, actually, with some changes in the details, which reflect my post-dream sentiments after the first time. But the ending and the resulting post-dream reaction are the same.
So the dream took place in high school. I was selected at the last minute to be the leading lady for a play similar to Phantom of the Opera, because the cast was impressed by my rendition of “Think of Me” (yes, I remember clearly how I was busting my voice on the wide stage) I was shocked, I was flattered. But since the performance was supposed to be moments later, I wondered how I would have time to memorize the lines.
And so on the day of performance, I ran to the backstage. Somehow my older brother was there. I was nervous.
The part about forgetting the lines was quite blurry. All I remember was the panic of not knowing the lines. I kept asking or thinking ” But I don’t know the lines!” I remember I was still frantically reading the script before I came out to the stage.
The ending is unknown. All I know is that I was panicking for not knowing the lines. (All I have is that one song which I can sing).
Filed under: Random
Recently I’ve been addicted to Fox’s new series, named “GLEE”. In it there is this goal driven girl named Rachel. In the latest episode, she said she wakes up every morning at 6am (to the following song), and by 6:10am she would be on her elliptical, staring at her latest goal sheet. (to the following song).
That is definition of being driven.
Ain’t nothing gonna break my stride
Nobody gonna slow me down, oh no
I got to keep on moving
Ain’t nothing gonna break my stride
I’m running in a one touch ground, oh no
I got to keep on moving
When I was in Berkeley, I had some friends who had taken Intermediate Microeconomics with David Card, and they had often talked about how this professor kindled their passion for economics. Curious about how this professor could inspire people around me so, I went to his talk on how to do research in economics.
At the end of his talk, I went up to him to ask a question that has been bothering me. My current research approach. This is timely because I have been struggling with my thesis proposal these weeks. My adviser has been tough on my proposal, and said, “You need to go through that struggling period.” And struggled I did.
Anyway, so I asked David Card, given a circumstance like mine (I will not bore you with details here), how would he go on. He asked the following question: “Is the observation unit an agent who maximizes?” (You see, a maestro will ask questions of such specificity). He gave the answer.
I exited the room, sort of moping.
But it was very nice to have heard him speak today. He, the guy who inspired such passion for economics for Jessica and Anderson!
Sunday morning, my two aunts took me to the cemetery where Grandma was buried.
There, I observed the follow scenes:
1. a 30-ish mother, hugging her 8-10 year old kid (who was writhing in her arms, suggested that he wants to go somewhere to play), seemed to be talking to a grave, which had a little American flag next to it. The conspicuous absence of the father made me think that perhaps it was the grave of the father. Later I went by, and saw that the buried person was born in 1967 and died in 2005.
2. a group of people, aging young to old, picnicking next to a grave. Sun umbrella, juices, barbaques. It was a large gathering. A jovial one.
3. another group of people, larger gathering again, picnicking around a grave.
4. 3 hispanic/white men, with shaved heads, gathered around a grave which is just off the road. There sportish cars parked next to the curb. These 3 men are in the prime age (probably late 20s – 30s).
5. A father, and a toddler in a baby car. They were sitting next to a grave.
6. Inside the funeral home office, a middle age (late 50s) Asian woman, and her adult son (looks to be my age), arranging the funeral care for someone. Her arms in her son’s.
****
Seeing these scenes made me feel uncomfortable. Strangely, that feeling was a feeling of shock. It’s not like everyday that you see these things, where there is a conspicuous absence of one member of the party. And here, you are again reminded how common death is, and how variable is the circumstance around death.
Suddenly, I felt I am the lucky one. And Grandmother, was certainly a very lucky old woman.
Filed under: Random
Sometimes when I walk toward the main campus sometimes at around 5pm, as the sun as sets, and people coming from the opposite direction, against me, here is what I felt:
I enjoy a university campus so, so much.
As I closed the door behind me, and walked down the moist steps of the library into the drizzling night, I felt a weariness in me, so heavy that the 3 books in my hands felt like they weighed 100 pounds.
It was 10pm on a Friday night, and I was the last of the people to leave the library, and walked among the diligent or the lonely to the last of the buses that are leaving the library. It was drizzling, and I felt alone and tired.
Yet, in the bus, there sat those other people, many of whom wearing medical uniforms. The radio in the bus was tuned to this channel that plays old songs. It was playing “Mrs. Robinson.” Where have you gone, Joe DiMaggio. A nation turns its lonely eyes to you…
As the bus rolled along the curb, the radio played “Since I fell for you.” When you just give love, and never get loved, you better let love depart…..
The bus dropped off the passengers, one by one. On this Friday night, we might ask ourselves why we were sitting with each other on this lonely bus. But at this point, our bodies were too tired to allow any other thoughts, but thoughts of home. In the end, I was the only passenger on the bus.
The bus approached the corner of 55th and South Hyde Park (my corner), and stopped at the corner just as the traffic light turned red. As I stepped off the bus, I turned to the bus driver.
What radio channel is this?
You like it, do ya? (He smiled broadly, with a little surprise in his tone) I think it’s 93.7
Yes, I do. Thank you. (I returned a smile as broad, but tired)
I stepped off the bus into the drizzling rain; my eyebrows locked from the droplets of water. The traffic light turned green. Just as the bus was beginning to resume along the road and we parting in our ways, the bus driver sounded the bus honk — I looked up at his dark face through the window; he gave me a salute and a broad smile– and I, in repartee, gave him a wave and broad smile.
And then I strode off into the quietness of the Friday night. But now, with this little brush of repartee, I trotted home with a little lightness, and marveled at how an awful day even at the end of it could still be turned around by a little smile. That honk and salute just made the moon glowed a little brighter on this dim night.
Filed under: Random
A Sunday afternoon, characterized by intermittent thunderstorms and rain showers, in a cafe, staring with a rare, intense focus at my computer screen. A cup of intelligentsia cafe next to my laptop.
I sat next to the tall glass window. Sometimes I would gaze at people passing by.
As my focus then returned to my screen, I would pick up my coffee with my right hand, and would be ready to take a sip.
At this time, my eyes were still on the screen, until I saw some movement on my right hand side with the corner of my eyes.
A large spider — with busily moving legs — was about 7 inches hanging right above my coffee, which was at the moment being held midair by my right hand. (One can imagine how close I was to swallowing a spider)
I promptly let out an unreserved scream.
And then fell out of my chair.
“Hey babe, what’s wrong?” Asked the woman cashier of the cafe (she always call me BABE).
I pointed to the culprit of this fiasco.
The Math PhD, who likes to talk, and whom I have observed in the last month in this very cafe, and who was chatting to the cashier at this moment, said, “I can take care of that.”
With one handful of tissue, he grabbed the spider and tossed it into the trash can, behind me.
“I like spider,” he said.
(To be continued…)
Filed under: Random
Two souls had the following conversation one night:
Cleopetra: a coworker of mine said, before he got married, he said from now on he was going to have another job. Yeah, a JOB. So many jobs already. When people found the one and no more jobs, would that be the beginning or boredom?
Penelope: that’s why you can’t stop looking until you find the connected soul. And there is a name for such souls. It’s call “kindred spirit”. You have to find your kindred spirit.
Cleopetra: a book said most people don’t find the kindred spirit.
Penelope: XXX probably reaffirms me that my kindred spirit exists out there. I just need to find them, and he must has all the good stuff that XXX doesn’t have.
Cleopetra: maybe only 1 out of 200 married the kindred spirit.
Penelope: perhaps you don’t marry the kindred spirit.
Penelope: but you make friends with kindred spirit.
Cleopetra: i don’t think i’ll
Cleopetra : what do you mean
Penelope: who could be like a 60 year old woman/man
Penelope: or a 12-year old child
Cleopetra : probably not a child
Penelope: you may not meet your kindred spirit until you are 54 year old
Penelope: but in between you would have married someone
Penelope: and in between your husband probably would have died
Penelope: so perhaps, we can’t really wait until the kindred spirit comes along
Penelope(: but at least, give it some time
Cleopetra : maybe you can make anybody your kindred spirit
Cleopetra : if you try hard enough
Penelope: no way
Penelope: probabilistically,
Penelope: chance is small
Penelope: that so many things mash
Penelope: but we are assuming that one has a SPIRIT
Penelope: if one doesn’t have a spirit, one perhaps does not need a kindred spirit
Cleopetra : i know
Cleopetra : so funny
Cleopetra : what do they need
Penelope: dead fish
Cleopetra : seriously
Penelope: they need what they see other people have?
Cleopetra : can’t be that easy
Penelope: they need companionship because they can’t hear their own spirit?
Cleopetra : where is the motivation
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What is a kindred spirit afterall? The following post comes up when you google “How to find kindred spirits?”.
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“All my friends have a kindred spirit. Except me. Sure, I have a lot of friends, but we don’t have a lot of things in common. I want someone who truly understands how I feel rite now…the rue I’m going through.
Someone who’s favorite color is also black(or white).”
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It seems to suggest that kindred spirits could be ridiculously easy to find. It is only a matter of black or white.
In honor of all my kindred spirits out there:
