When I was younger, my mom liked to put on Barbara Streisand’s cassette in the car. My favorite song of hers was “Some enchanted evening.” It was an intensely romantic song, I felt, with this line:

“Some enchanted evening…you may see a stranger…..you may see a stranger across a crowded room. And somehow you know, you know even then, that somehow you’ll see him, again, and again….”

While this intensely romantic scene never happened to me, it formed the basis of what I thought was romantic. At my age now, I don’t believe this kind of scene is possible for me. Yet, there are scenes in real life that that I observe that comes close. Consider the following scene:

A guy and a girl in a somewhat empty room (except for the prying eyes of yours truly), they were both busy with some other things.

Then the guy stood up. The girl looked up. They made sustained eye contact. The guy smiled. The girl smiled. It seemed like they have met each other before. A flash of recognition came to the girl’s eyes.

The guy walked over. “Hi,” he said.

The girl said, “Hi.” Then, “I remember you.”

They looked at each other, smiling, eyes wide. No words came. Just smiling and looking.

Then some inconsequential conversation ensued. Continued smiling and eye contact.

***
I observe the above scene with amusement. What will come of it? “Some enchanted evening” plays in the air.

***
Here is the lyrics to the most intensely romantic song I have known. Ask me to sing it to you when you see me.

Some enchanted evening
You may see a stranger
You may see a stranger,
across a crowded room
And somehow you know
You know even then
That somewhere you’ll see him
Again and again
Some enchanted evening
Someone may be laughing
You may hear him laughing
across a crowded room
And night after night
As strange as it seems
The sound of his laughter will
sing in your dreams

Who can explain it?
Who can tell you why?
Fools give you reasons
Wise men never try
Some enchanted evening
When you find your true love
Across a crowded room
And fly to his side
And make him your own
Or all through you may dream all alone
Once you have found him,
never let him go
Once you have found him,
never let him go

Why is it that I just have to write a novel out of Sea Cove? Because “strange” people gravitate to that place, and when you put strange people together in a small place, strange things are bound to happen.

Today I had another conversation about this place with my Dad. In the past year, several things occurred in the island:

1. the #8 typhoon swept away and uprooted a large portion of the harbor, resulting in destruction similar to that of the Sichuan earthquake.

2. in order to fix the harbor, residents had to dole out extra money. The general vote led to the cancellation of a direct boat ride from Central to the Island. All residents have to take the indirect route via Long Island. This resulted in great inconvenience.

3. an ambitious American steathily bought up several properties in sea cove, with the hope that he could turn a profit. He had visions and he talked to my Dad about buying our property. Dad raised the price to 3 times the market rate. This resulted in all our surrounding properties being bought up by this American, except ours.

4. As a result of the American’s ambition to turn a profit from his several properties, the daily stream of visitors increased in sea cove, which resulted in my father’s meeting with a potential buyer one day.

5. Since my grandmother is in critical condition in LA, my mother flew to America, which led to Dad feeling bored and taking a visit to Sea cove. There at the harbor, he saw this new face. He asked, “Are you our new neighbor?” The new face said no, and actually he came to the island to look at the units being sold by the aformentioned American. He is a pilot for commercial helicopter. He saw that Sea Cove has a helicopter lot in the hill. This is rare in Hong Kong. As my Dad helpfully pointed out, in Hong Kong, there are less than 5 residential area which have helicopter lot, and he just recently had the management company repaint the helicopter lot (I mentioned this in Ch 1 of my novel — and I quote, “And if you do manage to explore the mountains, and hike all the way to the top, by luck you may discover the helicopter lot, which is hidden in the grasses that had grown tall enough to obscure its existence. It has been left unused for years, with the circle target market painted in red fading into the ground.”)

6. This new face asked my Dad, do you know who is selling that unit which has this phone number pastered on the window. My dad said, “That’s me.”

I can already feel new development coming out. And this gives me the idea of how to develop the helicopter lot as a storyline in my novel — you see, this character comes out from nowhere (nonetheless, he is a real character)! The story is in development (in real life, as well as in my novel)……

You know how when some people became “famous”, a whole bunch of people would try to claim that they have connections to them? Well, here is my time (to be the latter type of people). I put famous in quotes because the people I am claiming connections to used to be “famous” within the confines of the narrow academic world. But once their names are launched into international spotlight for a wider audience, i.e. my parents, they truly became “famous” in my mind.

The “famous” people today are:

1. Timothy Geithner — former NY Fed president and to be US Secretary of Treasury. My connection to him: I met him in the annual Spring party hosted by my former boss in his small house in Chevy Chase, Washington DC. (Alan Greenspan was also present, by the way). He also used to work under my former boss under the Clinton Administration in the US Treasury (my boss used to work at the US Treasury).

2. Christina Romer — UC Berkeley Economics professor and to be president of the Council of Economic Adviser. My connection to her: She was my first economics professor in college. She taught my introduction to economics course. I still remember her lectures clearly. She and her husband David Romer also handed me the fake diploma when I graduated.  (My name actually crossed her lips before!)  She is a very warm and motherly professor. She is kind, efficient, and clear. A perfect person to be head of CEA in these economic times.

3. Austan Goolsbee — University of Chicago Economics professor and thought to be president of Council of Economics Adviser but somehow lost it to Christina Romer. My connection to him: simply that he is a professor in my current school.

4. Barack Obama — to be US President. My connection to him: Hey, I go to the same BORDERS bookstore as he does (I asked the cashier at BORDERS this weekend about Obama, and she said he does go there), I go to the same grocery shop and Walgreens as he, and I walk by his daughters’ school almost everyday, my classmate’s wife is the tennis teacher of his daughters!

I have only optimism for the US economy with this team in the White House!

Yesterday I went to my first Halloween Party as an adult. To summarize — it is one of the funnest party I have attended for a long time. Several people attended the party with a mask. I could have been speaking to someone I regularly see in the econ department, but I would not know it. Some familiar faces which should be recognized at one became unfamiliar to me. That people are able to conceal their face behind a mask, or even a thin layer of powder (in the case of the zombies) somehow made the communication easier.

Furthermore, yesterday was the day for people to showcase their creativity. Each person’s choice of custom actually gave me a strong sense of themselves. My favorite people are those who can crack themselves up, who in this occasion would dress in ridiculous customs that made fun of themselves. For example: a shady man in a woman with gigantic breast suit. My rambuctious classmate who put himself in a box that is labelled “a gift to woman from god.”

Then there was this very small subset of women who I truly admire — they managed to combine creativity with style and elegance. Example: my classmate was a mona lisa who carries around a frame so she can pose in the picture. (Now I believe she can truly produce amazing research if she can do this sort of merge in academic work!) A woman who claims she is a pencil — dressed in extravagent white spagetti strapped straight dress and a cone hat.

Then there was this subset of people who would want to use this occasion to demonstrate solidarity: 2 friends who would dressed as Mexicans with large Mexican hats. A couple who would dressed as PC and Mac. 2 good friends who dressed as twins. A bunch of friends dressed as zombies.

Then, there were those who obviously didn’t care or have time to care and made minimum effort on the costum — a hat, some random things thrown together, a random mask, even graduation gown — just overall without any coherent concept. But occasionally, you’ll get an outlier in this set who managed to blend nonchalance with statement – making. For example, a classmate wore this absolutely ridiculously LARGE Afro wig.

Then, as in every Halloween, there were girls who would use this occasion to be slutty: Marily Monroe, Superwoman. Yesterday, sexy Bumbo Bees were a hit. They were buzz around the floor. The counterpart for men were: Indiana Jonese, vampires.

But overall, just because the theme of Halloween is to express yourself in an alternative way, people managed to show a part of themselves which normally wouldn’t be shown. Consequently, people who normally wouldn’t communicate with each other find the reason to communicate, and people who already knew each other got to see each other in new lights.

In this sense, I love Halloween.

P.S. I was a voting machine yesterday. My custom is 2 pieces of white card board which reflected the actual Virgina touch-screen machine ballot in 2008. I also made a hat which says “Please Touch” — touching the screen, not the hat. (but many people turned out to touch the hat, and completely missed the point). For those of you who went to Berkeley, remember that “Happy-happy” man who always protested at Bancroft and Telegraph? Well, I looked just like him.

P.S.S. Although I lost all my keys in the party (bad!), I am still very glad I went, because I suspect after I finished graduate school I would not have the chance to go to these sort of parties — rowdy parties attended by well educated (they are all related to the econ or GSB department) yet also wild people who had a sense of fun. The fact that the attendents are mostly non-Americans (I think latinamericans and europeans are MUCH FUNNER than Americans….as for Chinese, they just don’t have ANY sense of fun. Americans’ sense of fun always ended with making out and dirty dancing. But latinamericans/europeans have fun and don’t do the above mentioned of the Americans) makes the party even funner. This is the part of my grad school experience that I would always cherish. As for my favorite people? Definitely Mexicans, Brazilians, and Portuguese.

A, L, P, T were walking on S. Dorchester Street in Hyde Park on a dark Fall night.

A dark colored vehicle suddenly pulled over to the curb to the side where these four people were walking.  A, being the overreacting sort that she is, exclaimed, “They are going to come out of the car and kidnap us!!”

P, the tiniest girl in the pack, chided A: “Come on!  We are 4 people, so no one is gonna attack us!”

L joined in: “Yeah A, stop being so scared!  T laughed along.

As they passed by the dark vehicle, they see that the car was full of middle-age white women.

A sighed in relief.

As these four further walked into the quieter part of the street, A began to fidget again and kept looking back and forth to check if they were being followed.  Eventually, A began to be absorbed into the center by the group of 4, as if a Queen Ant protected by soldier ants — although she is the biggest in size among the 4.

Seeing a shadow walking their way ahead, A shouted, “Look, there is someone in front of us!  He is walking our way!  He is going to rob us!”

P–let me emphasize again that she is the smallest in status among the 4–  impatiently said, “LOOK, A!  He is not going to rob us.  We are 4!  He is scared of us!”

As P said “He is scared of us!”, the shadow was just walking by these 4 and heard this phrase at ear shot.  This passerby was an African American, dressed in a beige in a hoody, walking solitarily on the street in the middle of the night.  As he passed by, he gave the 4 a dirty look — a mean look.

Before she knew it, A’s pace had quickened and was fast throwing the other 3 people behind.  As the suspicious black male had passed, the group of 4 were rejoined.

“Did you see the look he gave us?!!!! And P was saying so loudly that “He is scared of us?”  A said, insinuating that what had passed by them indeed was a threat.

T agreed.  “I saw that too.”

P said meekly, “I have a whistle in my backpack.”

Several contradictory experiences today.

Interesting experience:

1.  I played volleyball and was transported back to middle school again.  When I first moved to US, I was this tiny, underdeveloped monkey compared to my physically advanced and well developed caucacians classmates.  First day in school in US — PE class.  After a brief warm up of doing some strange arobics to unfamilar chanting, played volleyball.  I had never played volley ball before.  In fact, I barely touched a basketball.  In Hong Kong, the PE class consists of just gymnastics and playing a hollerhoop and rolling on the floors.  So there I was, not knowing what’s happening on the volleyball court in my new school.  The PE teacher in my new US school picked the captains, and the captains picked the team.

Suffice to say, I was always picked last.  But fortunately, the white girl who always picked me was the nice girl.  There are always some very competitive people, who would just pick the best and be mean to the bad people.  But this white girl, for some reason, was rather sympathetic to this tiny, skinny, ignorant Chinese girl who barely spoke.  Just plain dumb.

First day at volleyball court — my only memory is the ball flying toward my face.  In slow motion.

Several years later, I am in this situation again–but this time willingly subjecting myself to it!  Again, the captain put me on the sideline.  Again, there are some competitive people and there are some sympatheic and genuinely nice people.  Again, my only memory is the ball flying in slow motion toward my face at the volleyball court. 

What is difference, however, is that I am not that dumb monkey anymore.  There is something inside me that gives me the feel of a king kong.

2.  Today I think I received one of the best compliment I have received for a long, long, long time.  It was given to me by someone I don’t really know, but who remembered something I said to him more than 1.5 year ago.  It was the best compliment I had heard about me for more than probably 10 years.

3.  Proctoring and grading undergraduate exams, with professor and fellow TA immediately after exam and then individually.  See entry below.

4.  I am really thankful for my officemates.  I have an office now, and I have 4 officemates.  One problem about my office is that the ventilation is extremely loud due to a leakage of the pipe.  It has an untreated problem for a long time.  But my officemate offers to fix it.  He is going to break duck tape and tape around the office.  I have a very good feeling about this and am very glad I picked this one, rather than the hallway offices.  Especially because I really like my office mates.  They have this calming influence on me (even though I don’t know them well).  Even back in my 1st year, I had liked to sit near them for exams simply because they are calming (not that they talk to me much). 

5.  Attended the business school application workshop (but left after a moment…too boring and more importantly too tired)

6.  Stokey presented the proof for factor price equalization in a very clear way.   She is many zillion times better than Lucas as a teacher.  I love this woman.

I just came back from a book fair where I bought 2 fictional books.  The reason why I picked them up is that the synopsis seems to have some parallel to my in-progress novel.  The story centers around the residents of a small American town (in my novel, the residents of a small seaside village in Hong Kong), and is about some sort of mystery and little miracles that happen — hey, that is my theme as well!

When I came home and search online, I found more scary parallels!  Here is an Amazon.com review.

Amazon.com Review
Father Tim, a cherished small-town rector, is the steadfast soldier in this beloved slice of life story set in an American village where the grass is still green, the pickets are still white, and the air still smells sweet. The rector’s forthright secretary, Emma Garret, worries about her employer, as she sees past his Christian cheerfulness into his aching loneliness. Slowly but surely, the empty places in Father Tim’s heart do get filled. First with a gangly stray dog, later with a seemingly stray boy, and finally with the realization that he is stumbling into love with his independent and Christian-wise next-door neighbor. Much more than a gentle love story, this is a homespun tale about a town of endearing characters– including a mysterious jewel thief–who are as quirky and popular as those of Mayberry, R.F.D. –Gail Hudson

MY IN-PROGRESS STORY INVOLVES A FATHER (old as well), A STRAY DOG (which the Father adopted), a love story that revolves around the FATHER and his neighbor, and RESIDENTS OF A SMALL TOWN — CAN THERE BE ANYMORE SIMILARITIES?

Sigh.  Sigh.

Please refer to here for the previous part.

So the story of the Stupid Girl continues…

The charred smell of the Hippo meat permeated the air.  The Stupid Girl stared with shock as the Sizable Group of Loud People swarmed toward the fried Hippo and tore apart the carcass.  Her peanut size brain not being able to react, she just stood her naked body there and kept telling herself that everything is okay.  As her mother told her when she was young, all the good people go to heaven after they die.  But of course, what she did not know is that the Hippo is not good and moreover not human.

After convincing herself of the existence of heaven for the poor Hippo, the Stupid Girl was suddenly aware of her nudity.  She started looking around for large leaves to cover herself.  A little patch of banana tree leaves laid on the ground next to her.  So she took one.  As she was about to wrap the banana leaf around herself, she heard a voice,

“Don’t do that!”

The Stupid Girl looked around.  The voice was nowhere to be found.  She continued to dress herself with the banana leaf, thinking that it makes a good sarong.  Then this time, the voice is louder:

“Don’t do that!” 

Even the Stupid Girl knew that an unmistable voice was trying to tell herself something.

“Dear Hippo!!  Are you in talking to me from heaven?! You poor, poor thing!” cried the Stupid Girl, looking up toward the sky.

“Shush!  Down here!”  said the voice, louder even.  It appeared that the voice had originated from under the ground, underneath the patch of banana leaves from where the Stupid Girl picked hers.

The Stupid Girl pushed aside the banana leaves, and discovered that under it is a deep, deep hole.  The voice that talked to her was a man, who was wearing a banana-leaf thong.

“Hello there!  What’s down there?  Why are you down there?”  The Stupid Girl asked dumbly, suddenly all the more aware of her lack of clothing.

“I am trapped, can’t you see?!”  The Man in Thong said exasperatedly, then seeing that the Stupid Girl was about to cover herself with the banana leaves, he quickly added, “I seriously won’t do that if I were you.”

“What?  Dress myself?”  The Stupid Girl was confused why the Man in Thong was telling her not to cover herselves.

The Man in Thong nodded. 

“When I shipwrecked on this island, my clothese were all lost.  At first when they found me, they gave me everything.  Treated me like a king.  But the moment I started covering my body…ever since then…they have treated me in ways that are so demeaning…,”  at this moment, the Man in Thong broke down in tears, and could not continue.

The brightest idea suddenly occurred to the Stupid Girl — this man must be the very one who wrote the HELP message she found in the middle of the Pacific Ocean!

“Look, I will rescue you!  Don’t worry!” The Stupid Girl tried to console the tearful Man in Thong.  But honestly, she had no plans. 

“Please rescue me!  I am so miserable here!  You have no idea what they have been doing to me!” said the  Man in Thong, still sobbing.  “You have no idea…”  The Man in Thong could not continue speaking.

At this time, they heard loud burbs coming from the direction of the charred Hippo.  The Sizable Group of Loud People had finished their meal.  The burbs started to come toward the Stupid Girl and the Man in Thong’s direction.

“Tonight, I will come get you out of here,” the Stupid Girl told the Man in Thong.  “Tonight.” 

“Thank you,” sobbed the Man in Thong with teary eyes.  “Quick, cover this up and pretend you don’t know of this hole.”  The Stupid Girl did as she was told.

The Sizable Group of Loud People now had came over and again they knelt and banged their heads on the ground as soon as they saw the Stupid Girl (still naked, as she had promptly threw away her banana leaf at the urging of the Man in Thong). 

The Stupid Girl pointed her finger toward the leftover of the charred Hippo meat, and gave the Sizable Group of Loud People a disapproving look.  “Bad!  Bad!”  she said.

The Sizable Group of Loud People looked at one another, then nodded to one another.  They hooted loudly.  Then all of them suddenly jumped up and swarmed toward the Stupid Girl, and despite her protests, they lifted her up, and carried her toward the leftover of the fried Hippo.  They started to stuff her mouth with the Hippo meat.

Before she knew it, the Stupid Girl had swallowed the chunks of Hippo meat.  It actually tasted delicious.  She had more, as the Sizable Group of Loud People looked on eagerly.  Before long, she was full and felt sleepy.

When she woke up, night had fallen.  The Stupid Girl found herself comfortably ensconsed on a pillow richly stuffed with dandelion cotton, flanked by two members of the Sizable Group of Very Loud People.  She rubbed her eyes, and saw that before her the rest of the Sizable Group of Very Loud People all couched together in rows, all facing a little platform at the very front of the space, and all holding a banana in their hands.  In the middle of the little platform was a tall coconut tree.

Even the Stupid Girl realized that there was a sense of anticipation in the air.  Everybody was looking expectantly at the platform.

Then the Sizable Group of Very Loud People started houting and waving their bananas.  Then, two members of the Sizable Group of Very Loud People appeared, dragging with them a man in thong. He is the Man in Thong.  They left the Man in Thong at the coconut tree, then left the platform and joined the couching members of their group, all facing the Man in Thong.

The hooting of the Sizable Group of Very Loud People started again, then grew louder.  The Man in Thong placed his hand on the coconut tree.  The group cheered.

Then the Stupid Girl saw the strangest thing she has seen yet in her life.  The Man in Thong was twisting around the coconut tree and throwing himself to and about the coconut tree in a strange manner.

(to be continued…)

A couple months ago, I posted a fairy tale named “The Stupid Girl (my unfinished fairy tale)”.  Here I continue the story.  If you missed the first part, it can be found here.  A word of caution:  this fairy tale is not intended for children, just as the very original fairy tales are not.

The Stupid Girl (continued…)

So the story went that the Stupid Girl met the Hippo when she walked out of her house at the urging of a wounded bee, and the Hippo, having lost his pod while migrating west, decided to travel together with the Stupid Girl to cross the Pacific Ocean.

The Stupid Girl has been riding the Hippo in the Pacific Ocean for a day when a bottle with a message bumped into the Hippo, nearly knocking the Stupid Girl off his back.  They decided to go against the current along which brought the bottle to them.

The Hippo swam hard against the currents, while the Stupid Girl cheered him on.

But after awhile the Hippo became really thirsty, and he felt that the Stupid Girl is getting heavier and heavier.  “I can’t go on anymore!  I am too thirsty, and you were getting fat!”  To make true his complaint, the Hippo suddenly submerged  itself into the water.  The Stupid Girl thought, the poor dear!  His little feet have been flapping continuously underwater since the beginning of their journey. I must relieve his burden!

It so happened that just now a very very brief tropical rain passed by them, and the freshwater showered onto them.  But being half submerged at the time, the Hippo did not get any sip of the water.  The Stupid Girl, however, got soaked.  The Hippo had an idea.

“Why don’t you take off your shirt and squeeze the water from it into my mouth?” sweetly asks the Hippo.  “Otherwise I am going to sink due to thirstiness.”

The Stupid Girl, being the Stupid Girl, did as she was told and stripped off her shirt.  The Hippo and he opened his enormous mouth with an AHHHHH.  The Stupid Girl did as she was asked to do.  But as she twisted the fabric to let the water droplets into the large Hippo mouth, the Hippo suddenly bit down his mouth and took the shirt into his mouth, then spurted it out from his mouth and tossed it into the ocean.

“What you do that for!” The Stupid Girl realized that she almost lost her hand.

“You wearing a shirt is increasing the weight on my back,”  said the Hippo quietly.

The Stupid Girl thought, that makes sense, I should stay quiet.  So stayed quiet she did.

Until, after a while, with no island in sight, the Hippo complained again, “I can’t go on anymore!  I am too hungry! And you were getting fat!”

The Stupid Girl feels bad about her weight, but did not know what to do about it.

The Hippo has an idea.  “Why don’t you take off your trousers and use it as a net to catch me some fish?,” he asked sweetly.  “Otherwise I am going to sink due to hunger.”

The Stupid Girl thought, the poor dear!  His big muscular body must be tired and needing much nutrition.  I must relieve his burden!  So she did as she was told.

But as she was yanking off her trousers, the Hippo suddenly made a big undulating movement, which almost knocked the Stupid Girl off had she not grabbed on to the Hippo’s ears with both her hands.  But her trousers were lost in the ocean as she released them to hold on.

“What you do that for!”  The Stupid Girl realized that she almost fell into the ocean.

“You wearing trousers is increasing the weight on my back,” said the Hippo quietly.

The Stupid Girl thought, that makes sense, I should stay quiet.  So stayed quiet she did.

Now although the Stupid Girl is stupid, she now realized that she has lost all her clothing.  And the Hippo was  all of a sudden making a lot of undulating movement, throwing the Stupid Girl to and fro.

At this time, an island with many coconut trees suddenly appeared before them.

“There!  That must be where the bottle with the message came from!” cheered the excited Stupid Girl, who pointed to the island with her naked arm.  “Let’s go!  Think about all the coconuts we can drink from on the island!”

The Hippo grunted.  He did not want to stop at first, but at the mention of coconuts he begrudgingly swam toward the island.

As they embarked on the beach, the Hippo threw the Stupid Girl off his back rudely and insensitively, and sped with his four fat legs as fast as he could toward the first coconut tree he sees.  But no matter how this horizontal Hippo jumped, he simply could not reach more than three feet off the ground.

“Wait,” called the Stupid Girl, “We must find the person who wrote the note in the bottle first.  Maybe he needs immediate help.”

The Hippo gave the Stupid Girl a long stare, and said sweetly, “I will do that as soon as I have a drop of this coconut juice.   Can you get one for me?”

“But…” The Stupid Girl wanted to suggest to find the distressed person first.

“Shushh!  I need to have a drink otherwise I can’t go on anymore.  Just shut up and do it.”  Demanded the Hippo.

The Stupid Girl was afraid to go into the forest to look for the distressed person by herself, so she did as the Hippo told her.

She jumped onto the coconut tree, and eventually climbed up to the top.  Just as she was going to throw the coconut down to Hippo, she noticed a commotion in the forest.   A Sizable Group of Very Loud People were running toward their direction.  They were all hooting and swinging something in their hands.  Before the Stupid Girl could think about what to do next, the Loud People were below the coconut tree, surrounding the Hippo.  The Stupid Girl remembered that the Hippo had told her to shut up.  Thus she did what she was told.  She shut up and watched.

The hooters below her have grabbed hold of the four fat legs of the crying Hippo, and flipped him over, tying each of the fat legs on to a branch.  And they lifted the Hippo up.  “HEELLLLLLLLLP MEEEEEE Stupid Girl!  I DON’T WANT TO DIE!!!!”  Cried the now tearful Hippo.

The Stupid Girl, hearing her name called, screamed, “Here I am!”

The Sizable Group of Very Loud People looked up to the source of the scream.  What they saw seemed to frighten them, they all suddenly dropped to the sand and banged their head against the sand repeatedly.

What happened is that the sun was shining behind the Stupid Girl’s head, so they saw the a golden crown around the head of a naked woman, whose skin from days in the ocean without clothes had turned golden.  Thus the Sizable Group of Very Loud People thought the Stupid Girl was a Goddess.

The Stupid Girl crawled down from the tree, and stood in front of the Sizable Group of Very Loud People.  They looked up to her and stared at her golden body, in admiration.

The Hippo who was turned upside down obsequiously demands of the Stupid Girl, “Tell them to release me!”

The Stupid Girl told the admiring hooters, “Release him!” — authoritatively pointing her finger at the Hippo.

The Sizable Group of Very Loud People promptly jumped up from their kneeling and sized in the Hippo.   They lifted up the two branches and began to carry him into the forest.

“No! No!  Help me!  I don’t want to die!”  cried the Hippo, now very tearfully.

The Sizable Group of Very Loud People moved so fast that the Stupid Girl had a hard time running after them.

By the time she found them, she just caught the moment when the yelp of “HelPPPPP” faded as the Hippo, which was powdered with batter, was submerged into a pot of boiling oil.

(…to be continued)

These couple of days the randomness of the world has come together and produced some marvelous things to gape at in my life:

1. Yesterday I was having dinner when I saw the guy whom I had a great conversation with 2 years ago in DC, sitting right behind me. Three years ago he gave me his business card and I vice versa, but never called (yes it’s one of thus nut cases).

I think he was looking at me at some point. But I pretended I did not see.

2. One of the characters in my novel is a Catholic priest. I have been having a dry spell on the novel since the stories on the elder character require my imagination rather than experience. Thus it’s rather hard to get started with those characters.

If the governmnet has been spying on what I google on my computer, they’d have thought that I am a pervert. Because these couple of days I have been googling terms like “legendary priest”, “strange priest”, “priest stories”, “British priest”, “Hong Kong deacon”….etc.

And viola, yesterday I found a most interesting story about this British priest, who wrote a book called “PLAYBOY TO PRIEST”. He was born in UK, and went through WWII, and had worked as a busboy on a ship travelling around the world, spoke several languages, and at some point, was involved in gold-smuggling operations to Hong Kong (money laundering in today’s terms??).

In other words, he is perfect for my character to base on. In my imagination, my priest was similar to this real person. I just couldn’t believe that there indeed exist such a priest in the real world!

(sidenote: the priest published the book “Playboy to Priest” in 1975. In the latter google entries, I found out that he was accused of being a boy/child molestor in 2001– yes, he is one of the main actors in the Catholic priest child molestation cases. Amazing. Some suggested that his book should change title to “Playboy to Priest to Pervert”. )

3. Yesterday during dinner, sitting across me was a young girl going on to be her junior year at Stanford University. She is studying economics. Same age as my little brother. She asked this question of economics, “How to you know that is right model?”

I was astounded she has the maturity to ask this question. She further said, “I believe in the physical properties of the universe, but economics?”

Again I am at a loss for words at her maturity.