Morman, Bison, Yellowstone

Just for the sake of documenting the trip ...

9/1
We took the flight from EWR to SLC, arriving late night.

9/2
Although we hadn't made any plan in Salt Lake City, a flight-mate mentioned the famous temple square. As close as we were, we decided to take a look. Temple Square is the headquarter of Morman religion. They are rich. All those gorgeous buildings in and out the Square belong to them. Inside the conference center, an auditorium that could host 21,000 people has a pipe organ of 7667 pipes; the Tabernacle, where the choir used to perform, was in renovation; it was said that the pipe organ in there was even bigger, made of more than 11,000 pipes. While walking around in the square, you are very likely to be greeted by cordial Morman women, which may or may not be a good thing ;-)

The drive to Grand Teton was interesting. We took a detour, going through I80 -> 40 -> U-Turn -> 32 -> 150 -> I80 -> 189. At the intersection of 150 and I80, we stopped at a small town called Evanston. Before that stop, we had wasted quite a lot of time, marveling at the "majestic views" that we were not able to enjoy in NJ. Dinner was served in a Chinese buffet at Evanston, so we didn't leave there until after 7pm. Thinking we were not too far from Grand Teton, it came as a surprise that "Jackson is about 4 hrs away" when we stopped for gas after about 1 hr's drive. As our hotel was still more than 1 hr past Jackson, it looked kind of hopeless. Fortunately, we managed to Jackson in about 3 hrs while abiding to speed limits, mostly.

Driving in total darkness was not scary, not knowing when a deer or moose or bison would jump out was nerve wrecking. When there was a car following me, I slowed down to 10 mph below speed limit, forcing him/her to get into leading position; in less than 5 minutes, it was braking hard, and I saw a deer cut through in front of it. In the very next town, that car turned off into a motel.

We stayed at Colter Bay Village in Grand Teton. That was a pretty rustic but comfortable residence. The log cabin we lived in was built in 1922, and later moved to its current location in 1955 from Jackson Lake Lodge. It could comfortably sleep 5 and was complete with electricity and bath room, plus the location was quite convenient too.

9/3
As we arrived quite late the previous night, we slept through the whole morning. Throughout the day it was pretty foggy, making the view of the mountains dull. We walked around a short trail beside Jackson Lake, snapped some pictures. Water was crystal clear, luring me to dive into it; yet it was cold, so I just wet my feet and felt content.

Hiked to hidden falls in the afternoon. That was an ok place, not much difference than, say, Delaware Water Gap. However, it seemed the trails would get more interesting beyond that fall; unfortunately we didn't have time to explore further.

There were quite a few nice turnouts along the side-road from North Jenny Lake Junction to South Jenny Lake Junction; Jenny Lake Lodge was on this side road. The scenic turnouts here gave unobstructed close view of the mountains and the lake lying below.

On the way back from Jenny Lake Lodge, we spotted a moose cow near Jackson Lake Lodge, in a large patch of wetland. Quite ugly an animal.

9/4
Nothing too interesting, hiked on the trail along Jackson Lake again. As relaxed as we were, we went back to the cabin, and wife took a nap while I played with the camera.

After lunch, we drove down to Signal Mountain Marina and kayaked for 1 hour.

Before sunset, we went to Antelop Flats Drive outside the park, where you could easily see bisons. There really were many, so many that we thought they must be farm raised bulls. Those were cute, but probably not worth the dedicated drive, as it turned out there were way too many of those almost everywhere in Yellowstone.

9/5
Left Colter Bay area by around 10:00, then drove all the way up to Yellowstone. As close as it is, the geological features are so different from those in Teton. Teton feels pretty flat, while Yellowstone is immerced in mountains. On the road, we stopped by at Lewis Falls, West Thumbs Geyser Basin, Old Faithful, and a bunch of geothermal features. When entering the park, everything seemed so idyllic, so colorful, so desolate; we stopped at almost every place to cherish what we could never enjoy in NJ. When we drove through the same places several days later, things looked quite "ordinary" that we laughed at ourselves for being so excited over such "petty stimuli".

In summary, Old Faithful is probably the most famous, but it's far from the prettiest. With a crowd around it for every erruption, the beauty of solitude is lost. There're places satuated with color, with steam, with surprise, with formation, while Old Faithful is only faithful.

9/6
Cloudy with T-Storm possible; thus the decision of swimming in Boiling River. That is the only place in the park where you could swim in geothermal water. Driving past Norris Geyser Basin, Mammoth Hot Springs etc, we stopped here and there to take a peek. To be honest, we grew a little bit tired of all those similar-looking geothermal stuff. The Upper and Lower Terrace at Mammoth Hot Springs used to be spectacular, however they have dried up in recent years and lost its charm.

Close to the north entrance, the landscape was so different that we decided to drive all the way to the entrance, and spend some time lingering around on the slopes. As we strolled around on in the midst of cactus fields, cars stopped on the road to peek at us ---- the wild animals.

Boiling River boasts over 200 visitors daily, though we were quite lucky to strike a light-traffic day. The scenic trail from the parking lot to the bathing area was about half a mile long, and was a very enjoyable walk. As we submerged ourselves in hot water, suddenly a pack of elks emerged from nowhere, stepping into the creek downstream. The setting sun cast an even golden glow on the slopes, the elks, and the creek; sitting in heart-thumping natural hot tub, life couldn't get better. When we were leaving, the elks were still lingering along the trail, sort of blocking our way out. The lead male was such a magnificent animal with a set of 12 point antler. As I got closer to him, I could feel his smell, his strut, and his nervousness from his responsibility of the whole family. With 12 sharp points on his head, I had no plan to even slightly tease him. Finally the family left.

Yellowstone is really the heaven of wild animals; and there're so many of them, which makes driving in the dark quite dangerous. Neverthless, we rarely got back to hotel before the sky was soaked in darkness. By doing that, we were blessed to see quite some interesting stuff in the coming days ...

9/7
Today Mr He was supposed to join us. In previous day's phone call, everything was confirmed as scheduled.

Before heading to the airport, we drove through Firehole Canyon Drive, walked around Midway Geyser Basin, and hiked to Fairy Falls.

Firehole Canyon Drive used to be part of the main loop road; nowadays it is just a 2 mile detour along which there are several falls and cascades. It is also where one of the two places in the park where swimming is allowed, though this spot is icy cold, unlike in Boiling River. When we arrived, a Russian man was swimming, and his comment of the temperature was "it's ok, you'll survive". Yet I wasn't so sure.

Midway Geyser Basin hosts the grand Grand Prismatic Spring. Of course without elevation, you could only get half the picture. However, once you are on top of the nearby hill, that is what you would see. The hill is accessible from the Fairy Falls trail, but don't expect a trail to the hilltop ---- there is none. As there were 2 hills there, and I climbed both, this experience contributed a lot to Mr He's 2-hr wait at the airport.

Fairy Falls trail was fairly boring, except this herd of bison and this pair of shoes.

We were 2 hrs late for picking up Mr He, and he waited 2 hrs on the bench at Jackson Hole Airport.

On the way back, I got this cutie.

After finishing dinner at Signal Mountain Lodge, it was already 9 o'clock. The drive back to the hotel took us 2 hrs, along which we saw 1 car accident, 1 elk crossing the road in front of us, 1 bison walking along the road, and 1 bison walking right in front of us. Didn't I know night driving was fun?

9/8
Overcast. We went to Artist's Point, and the color was just right. It was quite crowded at the Point. However, when we hiked along the trail to Point Sublime, the view was spectacular and the crowd was all gone.

Bear encounters were the topic of this day, as there were 3; one grizzly, one black, and a black female named Rosey with 2 cubs.

We also tried to find a wolf pack in Larma Valley, but no luck; though the prey was there.

When driving back, a totally smashed SUV blocked the road between Madison Junction and West Entrance. The SUV hit a bison, quite likely at pretty high speed. To show our sympathy, no pictures were taken.

9/9
Upon Mr He's request, we went to Mammoth Hot Springs for the Terraces again; though not early in the morning, as he longed for, when temperature was low and overhanging steam was supposed to be thicker. This trip was not in vain, as we finally discovered some nice spots and live hot springs.

After learning that Mr He didn't bring his swim trunks with him, we decided to show him Boiling River. Obviously he regretted, complained, and voyeured ...

On the way back, there was a "yesterday-she-was-with-a-baby" moose cow, along with her baby. Also wife got scared by a sneezing bison. Some of the animals were really permanent residents, as we saw Rosey and her two cubs at the very same spot, chewing pine cones again.

9/10
Grand Finale.

Despite tight schedule, we had a delicious breakfast, visited Midway Geyser Basin again, and arrived at Jackson Hole Airport just 40 min before Mr He's flight was to take off. With that experience, we drove non-stop to the capital of Morman; well, almost non-stop.

New Spices

Finally fixed up the pictures for my Yellowstone trip. Look at Animals, us, or the rest.

Although I did make some notes along the road, but nothing quite interesting in there. I'll see whether it's worth making entries here.

Dream Last Night

Recently I've been dreaming more and more. Last night's dream was especially interesting, partly because I could remember quite clearly, and partly because it was interesting.

It started with a trip to Las Vegas. After boarding the plane, wife was sitting on a window seat, I sat next to her. Soon the plane took off, and I fell asleep; I must be pretty tired, or else why would I dream of sleeping? Next I was waken up by the scared voice of wife saying, "What should we do now? What to do?"; her eyes wide open, staring at my opening sleepy eyes. I felt the plane was shaking side to side, and water line was in the middle of the window. Obviously our plane made an emergency landing in the water. Upon realizing this, I yelled with excitement and joy, "Holy cow, we are lucky; my life is complete!" Sure it is; not many people could experience an emergency landing, let alone a successful one. Just as I was reaching for my camera to take some pictures, to my bewilderment, the plane powered up its engines, lifting off the water, and headed back to the airport. After getting off the plane peacefully, we were informed that this flight was cancelled, and we cannot be rescheduled for the same route in 3 days; therefore most passengers just left upset, no violent protests, no anger, even no signs of trauma. I was upset too, as the travel plan was disrrupted; so I gathered with a few who were still there, and tried to find out whereelse we could buy a ticket and travel to. That was when I woke up.

In reality what would I do? I would feel lucky if I hadn't wet my pants under such circumstances.

Let's Go Too Far, Shall We?

Quite an interesting question, really like it.

Memorial Weekend

I'm getting more and more lazy, just like my friends ---- our blogs keep unchanged for weeks, even months. That's why I'm only going to not down a few points about what we did over the memorial weekend, one week ago, just for the record.

Saturday, a late start. We got up at noon. After some struggling with ideas, we decided to see some movies. Several hours later, we stepped out of the cinema. Over the hedge and Mission Impossible III were what we scooped; fine for a rainy afternoon. After that we joined the Gang in Rutgers and played some ping pong, had a nice dinner, several rounds of card games, and decided to hike the next day.

Finding the trail head took us some time, as well as taking restroom breaks in the wild. We took a trail in Bear Mountain area, right off 9W. The trail was strenuous, the view was ok, and the hike was fun. Dinner at Pang Za's home, and then some rounds of card games as usually. We had a fine wine which Milk Bottle brought from France; unfortunately I had to drive, so couldn't drink more than a couple of sips.

The original plan for Monday was to do some more sports. However, The Violent Couple (Six Crawl and Pangza) surrendered. So we gave our car a nice hand wash.

That's it.

Late for the Train

I'm late for the train again this morning, watching it closing its door before me on the platform; that's upsetting. Thus here I'm siting in the waiting room, carrying a full bag of heavy books to be returned to the library, but nothing to read for now. Blogging.

Just had my real "30th" birthday several days ago; the big celebration we had in April was quite far ahead of my birthday. By Chinese tradition, this is actually my 29th. So when Six Crawl asked me what do I feel about being "30 by Shanghainese tradition", I said I still have hope, for the last 1 year before that turning point. However, the other part of my answer was that I'm feeling mid-age crisis 10 years ahead, a little bit lost about what I want to do for the next 10 years, or next half of my life. The only thing I'm sure of is, I want to retire now and enjoy all the things I like, which is impossible.

Putting future plans or fantacies aside, my birthday night went like this. We went to Loucas for dinner. Loucas is a nice traditional Italian restaurant near my home; we go there a couple of times every year, to celebrate birthdays, anniversaries etc. After a heavy meal, we still managed to stuff in a small chunk of a delicious Tiramisu cake wife bought from La Bonbonaire. That settled it, and we both lied down on the couch at home with exploding stomaches, spent a good half of the night sleeping there. When woke up, we took a shower, and continued sleeping in the bed. Quite an eventless night you would say, but it's peaceful and good.

Anniversary

This is the conversation I heard this afternoon, between two mid-aged men.

A: (Checking watch) I'm going to leave now. I need to pick up my wife. Today is our Anniversary.
B: Oh, that is interesting. Today is my anniversary too. But I got divorced, so ...
A: Oh yeah? You know what, today is my anniversary with my second wife.

I could hardly hear anything through my laughter after that.

Rafting

The rafting trip on last Saturday was quite an adventure. Here are some hilights:

• Zhanna, Doggie, and Var had some intimate moments zipping and unzipping each other's wetsuits
• Wife and Prof Tian fell into the water, and were both rescued by following boats
• Thunder storm and sun mixed through the event, quite a unique experience
• Water gun fighting, escalated into bucket fighting
• Last but not least, a crazy night with 8 people in one hotel suite, partying and later crowding into sleep

One week

It's been one week since Paul's funeral, peace and calmness are already coming back.

I wanted to write a piece when I returned from the funeral, but one thing leads to another, I procrastinated till now. After 7 days, the memory is already not fresh any more; if waited longer, I doubt whether I could recollect enough bits to make this a memorable event. No matter how you dislike it, memory of the passed-away does fade so fast after all.

The funeral probably had nothing special. Paul and Karen are both religious, so the Catholic procedures threaded the ceremony. In the beginning, some not-so-close friends and colleagues stayed briefly, paid their respect, and left. Those who stayed were mostly from the church. The ceremony was quite smooth and touching. I was not so familiar with Paul, so only knew briefly about his history; in the funeral, however, I learned a lot more. I got to know his full Chinese name, his character as a child, and some of his chronicles; the slide show of the family told us where they had been, the stories of their lives together, and the happy moments. There were pictures of them setting foot on different corners of the world; pictures of pregnant Karen holding tightly with Paul, emanating bliss and pride; pictures of the baby clinging to Paul while Paul was so clumsy and obviously scared of the vulnerable thing. I really had a hard time to hold my tears. That was the journey they had been through, the short-lived happiness that everybody would hope to last forever; yet they only had that for a short 3 years.

Time came when we walked up to pay our last respect. Through the thick and uneven plaster like makeups, I could hardly recognize this face as the same face in those pictures; this face was pale and delicate, and lifeless. He surely was resting in peace already.

The closing of the casket was not shown to anybody, including family members; when Paul's body was wheeled out of the patient's quarter, the same rule applied. Call it cruel or not, this at least avoided some heart wrenching sights.

It has only been 7 days, and we are already forgetting. Life is such a journey, it is a magic when you are alive and enjoying, but fades away with little trace and in little time when the life is gone.

66 kg

I am growing pretty fast.

Rafting Tomorrow

Long planned white water rafting trip, unfortunately will happen on a rainy day. But anyway, we'll get soaking wet, as I promised ... The gears shown in the pictures should be able to do a nice job.

How evil I am! Evil, evil, evil.

Paul

Paul died at 5:05pm last Thursday afternoon; from that moment on, he was 45 years old forever.

I can still remember last time when we met at Costco, he was still a hectic loud new father, babbling about the going-ons of his life despite the cold wind, holding the baby tightly against himself. His first operation on his brain tumor was on 3/10; no one would expect his death in a merely less than 2 months, not even his doctor.

This is not the first death I have encountered. When my grandfather died, I was aside; he died at the age of 72. On the 35th day after his death, I wrote a piece when I was home alone. Memory has faded to a point where I cannot recall what I actually wrote in there, the only thing I'm sure is that there was a pretty faint melancholy given the limitd interaction with him.

I wasn't around when my grand father on my father's side died, when my youngest aunt died, or when my grandmother died. The aunt also died in her 40s, another pathetic case.

On Thursday night, I went to the hospital. No idea why I went, just felt like going, like to see him for the last time. There will be a funeral, but that is different. Paying tribute at the hospital feels personal.

We got there at around 8:30. Paul's wife Karen was weeping beside the bed alone at that time. Friends gathered in the library of the Hospice section. There I saw Michelle, the couple's daughter, a little more than 1 yr old. She was still ignorant of the loss, crying for milk or diaper. People were gossiping, mostly about the progress of the events; but nothing really mattered much now. Paul's sister was abouut to arrive at JFK airport at 21:20; she had been here for weeks, and as soon as she went back, she decided to come back again; still she wasn't able to see him off.

We waited in the library for a while, before some one went into the room to console Karen again. Moments later, we walked to the room. I prepared myself for that, the sight still quite dazed me. I could manage to recognize Paul, but no longer that dark-skinned healthy talkative Paul; he was so pale, without a trace of blood. Suddenly I felt relieved, it felt like Paul was still around, what was lying there was just a soulless body. I used to fear ghosts, but at that moment I wouldn't be scared if Paul was really around; I would like to see his soul detached from the tortured body, and start babbling again in his strongly accented Mandarin.

We stayed till Paul's sister came. By that time, it had already been more than 6 hrs after Paul passed away. Honestly, that was the first time I have ever seen a corpse that has died for so long, and that sight was quite impressive. My eyes fixed on Paul's hands, on which there had already developed two huge stains caused by livor mortis, when the group was praying. That sight is going to stay with me throughout my life I guess.

Paul surely didn't want to leave so early; after more than 40 years of nomading, he was just about to start his happy family life. He loved his wife so deeply, that he was questioning himself "What about Karen?" ("Karen怎么办呀?") when he was in deep coma. Now Karen is going to leave this land of broken heart, bringing Paul's ashes with her, back to home. We can only hope the best, to both of them.

28 Miles - Effect

Boasting about putting 28 miles under our feet feels good enough; the 10 hours of our life experiencing this were even more "enjoyable". There were the chill in the early morning, the excitement agitated at the sight of ducks, the ghasting sight of a dead snake, the slower and slower "warm-up" after rests, and the robot dances we all performed in the last leg of the hike.

It was a fine walk on a fine day with a fine group of fine people.

More pics for 4/15

These pics came through email, from Mr He.

Circle of Honor

Early update with pictures

25 Miles by Foot

Tomorrow, is the big day, the day the East Coast Gang is going to hike 25 miles along the canal, from New Brunswick to Princeton. That will be the longest hike I have ever taken in my life up to date. Challenges? Who knows. Weather will be good, trail is close to major roads, there'll be 9 of us; so nothing is really scary, unless some of the heaviest collapse and need somebody to haul them out. Let's see!

Disappointing Pictures

After getting back the pictures of our California trip, I got disappointed. There are numerous pictures displaying a weird drab color. Just when I wanted to blame the printing, some well-balanced-colored ones jumped out; that was humiliating. After some close examination, it turned out that the bad ones were all taken with a polarizer, and this becomes even more confusing.

I used the polarizer to cut down the bright sky, in the hope that the contrast between forground and distant snow peaks could also be reduced. That seemed a futile effort; the contrast was still so strong, while the whole picture showed a shift of color towards blue. Well, this is a perfect lesson showing the importance of testing out the equipment thoroughly while at home. To be fair to myself, I have used this filter while I was in Las Vegas, and didn't observe any color shift; but maybe that was because of the good weather? I have no idea.

In contrast, pictures from my tiny point and shoot digital camera turned out pretty good. That proves another lesson: the better equipment, the easier to get full control, and the easier to screw up.

Weekends

Just as I decided to try to restart journaling my life, I would as well start babbling about my weekends, which tend to be more eventful than weekdays; and as I spent most of my weekends with friends, the nature of those is much less private.

I believe weekends until 3/18 have been pretty well documented. From 3/18 till today, there are 5 weekends not counting the 3/18 one. How am I able to account for all these 5 weekends is anybody's guess ---- I can't. I can only say I had a haircut on some day, and a party on 4/15 for my assumed birthday, and probably last weekend.

Last weekend was a little bit hectic, but not too eventful. Good Buddy Yavi was finally convinced to change his Friday meeting into a phone conference, so that he could delay his trip to the rural area till Sunday night. On Saturday, when we got bored with the card game, we set off to the office to enjoy the snacks, drinks, and all sorts of gaming facilities. After a VERY HEAVY hot pot meal, the card games ran into late night.

On Sunday wife and I went to Bathlehem, PA for a farewell party to Idaho Zhao, who would leave for Boise, Idaho late this month to start her job at Micron. The barbecue was especially good, and other dishes did the same good job of stuffing me up to the neck; I was happy then.

Well as I drag on, another two weekends are accounted for. My visit to California was from 3/31 to 4/9, which pretty much covered 2 weekends. On 4/1 weekend we just spent some time in San Francisco, and met with Weird Name Guy, who this time claimed he was living on the Mars. Food there was pretty good, and the waiter was great fun. On 4/8 we took the day trip to Yosemite, and that was when I got the chance to drive on roads without speed limit.

As nice and easy as typing in here, I might need a private journal for some other stuff. Wife said she needed a access-restricted blog space, while I recommended pen and paper; that would never fail on me.

Diary

When wife was in China, I went through my old journal book, and wrote several posts about that. Last week, when wife wanted to know some details about an event, I just said "Check my journal yourself"; and that was the start.

Over these days, she has been studying it extensively, plucking out every details to prove that I am not treating her as affectionately as before. Whereas I never sensed that myself, it probably is true. After all, 7 years is a long long time.

Along the way, some tidbits of long lost memory have been picked up; that is the magic of Rotten Pen Tip. From between the lines, a happy aimless content soul was the one who wrote those text. As aimless as I was, it was a fine young life, which I don't have the luxury of claiming so any more. Although can't remember the details without the help of the jounal, I could still remember vividly the worriless years, like the faint remaining taste of wine on the back of my tongue.

Now that life is becoming a routine, in these 5 years there is much less to remember than the couple of years documented in my journal. Maybe, just maybe, I should pick up the pen and ink down whatever mundane life that is going on; and make that part of the routine itself. After all, it seems all famous people kept a journal, which sometimes made its way into a memoir.

30?30!

Hard to believe I'm inching close to that time of life. After the big party we held last Sat, although it's still about 1 month from my real 29th birthday, it's inevitably incredibly close.

Some crazy pictures of our celebration/mourning: http://s88134149.onlinehome.us/gallery

Ok, think I'll stop here, before I sound like a age-whining sissy :) Anyway, the record that party set is, at least 5 totally drunk, and numerous quite drunk, and yet some slightly drunk. When things were quite out of control, threats about eating the pet bird, driving in reverse on RT-1 at 60 mph etc were proposed; it was quite close to the point where the house could be burnt down.

64.5

kg, minimum

That's fast! :(

Speed Limitless

J-132, CA

On our way to Yosemite, we were detoured on to SR-49 => J-132 from SR-120. This detour was not only very long, but exciting; J-132 was mostly without a posted speed limit during the detour. Driving through it, you could see "Speed Zone Ahead", followed by "End Speed Zone" a few miles further; within those speed zones, the limit was usually 40 or 30; between them, it was like autobarn in Germany, no posted speed limit. Unlike autobarn, I could hardly reach 60 mph; it was treacherous paths meandering through mountain ranges; there were places where suggested cornering speed of 20 mph or even 10 mph. Usually when the suggested cornering speed is above 30, you could safely do it with at least 20 mph above that; but when that gets down to 20 or below, it means business. I was doing 30 at a corner marked with 20, and heard the squealing sound from the tires; I definitely didn't intend to screw that one, as the cliff beside that gave no forgiveness.

The more exciting experience was in the night. As usual, we left the destination after dark. My adrenaline rushed to the head for what I saw; total darkness was what covered us. High beam could not serve the purpose at all on winding roads; light travels straight lines, it's that simple. Balancing among the urge to experience the extreme, the eagerness to get back earlier, and the fear for anything unexpected, it was surely the experience I would like to put down in records. Even in this wilderness, signs were posted marking "Residential Zone", and those were where we sighted a coyote, where the stars outshine lights, where the only evidence of residence were the road and sporadic mailboxes by it. By the time we reached places where we badged suburban in the morning, they looked welcomingly mordern.

Last weekend was the Rodeo festival of Oakdale, CA. When passing through Oakdale, the festive dust stired up by hooves, together with the cowboy hats, painted a subtle image of cowboy into our journey.

Google Analytics

I pointed Google Analytics to my blog, and here's the result I'm getting:

#--------------------------------------------------------
# Profile Name: scentofoat.blogspot.com
# Report Name: Executive Overview
# Date Range: 4/3/2006 - 4/9/2006
#--------------------------------------------------------

#--------------------------------------------------------
# Visits and Pageviews
#--------------------------------------------------------
Date Range Visits Pageviews
Mon 4/3 14 40
Tue 4/4 14 16
Wed 4/5 6 6
Thu 4/6 7 11
Fri 4/7 14 17
Sat 4/8 3 3
Sun 4/9 4 4

#--------------------------------------------------------
# Visits by New and Returning
#--------------------------------------------------------
Visitor Types Visits
Returning Visitor 40
New Visitor 22

#--------------------------------------------------------
# Geo Map Overlay
#--------------------------------------------------------
Country/Region/City Visits
Edison|405378|-743714 10
Alviso|374412|-1219905 7
Pasadena|337866|-1182987 6
(not set)|(not set)|(not set) 6
Philadelphia|399597|-751968 3
Redmond|476706|-1220685 3
San Mateo|375550|-1222687 3
New Brunswick|404834|-744433 3
Berkeley|378668|-1222536 2
Jersey City|407245|-740621 2
Hayward|376503|-1220730 2
San Leandro|377035|-1221484 2
Monterrey|256667|-1003167 1
New York|407267|-739981 1
Wichita|376910|-973292 1
Poreba|504833|193500 1
Oakland|377950|-1222193 1
Ottawa|454167|-757000 1
New York|407619|-739763 1
Wantirna South|-378833|1452167 1
Piscataway|405516|-744637 1
Farmington|424831|-833774 1
Kirkland|476966|-1221970 1
Zapopan|207167|-1034000 1

#--------------------------------------------------------
# Visits by Source
#--------------------------------------------------------
Sources Visits
thelustforlife.blogspot.com 33
(direct) 19
google 3
msn 2
spaces.msn.com 2

Interesting facts:

1. I'm losing traffic, mainly due to lack of activity I guess
2. Visits are mostly accounted for by the list of my friends
3. More than half visits are from Six Crawl's blog, that's a good place to place ads :)
   
4. Due to the massive success of Six Crawl's novel, I got most clicks on Monday

Browsers:

#--------------------------------------------------------
# Profile Name: scentofoat.blogspot.com
# Date Range: 4/3/2006 - 4/9/2006
#--------------------------------------------------------

#--------------------------------------------------------
# Browser & Platform Combos
#--------------------------------------------------------
Browsers - Platform Visits
Internet Explorer 6.0 - Windows XP 24
Firefox 1.5.0.1 - Windows XP 14
Firefox 1.0.7 - Linux (unknown version) 5
Mozilla 1.7.8 - Linux (unknown version) 3
Firefox 1.0.6 - Windows XP 3
Firefox 1.0.7 - Windows 2000 3
Internet Explorer 6.0 - Windows 2000 3
Firefox 1.5 - Linux (unknown version) 2
Firefox 1.5.0.1 - Macintosh PPC 2
Mozilla 1.7.12 - Linux (unknown version) 2
Firefox 1.5.0.1 - Linux (unknown version) 1

Firefox is used more widely than IE in my audience; however, sadly on windows IE is still dominant.

Funny Numbers

These numbers are from a research in the database of a dating service website.

• Male and female users typically reported that they are about 1 inch taller than the national average
• Men are in line with the national average on weight, women typically said they weighted about 20 punds less than the national average
• 70% women claimed "above average" looks, including 24% claiming "very good looks"; 67% men claimed "above average", including 21% "very good looks"; 1% chose "less than average"
• 4% of men and women claimed more than $200k annual income, while less than 1% of typical internet users actually earn that (here one doubt is where that 1% stat comes from)
• Men who posted a photo get 4 times more emails than the ones who didn't; for women, that ration becomes 6 to 1
• And here is the best; men who say they want a long-term relationship do much better than men looking for an occasional lover; but women looking for an occasional lover do great

Now what are your thoughts besides saying these numbers are hilarious but imaginable.

Flame Teasers

Obviously a lame topic I posted last night started a fire. It's not hard to foresee though; one topic is guaranteed to be eternal: girls.

Boys talking about girls, girls talking about girls, that is endless. Girls flattered, girls offended, boys joking, boys mocking, girls revenging, girls biting, boys wincing, boys execusing; nasty, but hot.

Travellers

• Dipper
Who would like to see the world outside, but feels quite insecure when being away from home for a short while.

• Kite
Who has a home, but can rarely stay there for long; the heart is always in somewhere far away.

• Roamer
Who is comfortable everywhere; who can pack all he has into a car or even a suitcase anytime, getting into a completely new place, and start a life.

What kind do you think you are? I would love to be the latter two; but it seems my expertise is one of the most useless ones for that purpose. Being a construction worker, or a mechanic, or a doctor would be good.

Tricks to Lure Girls

It's really not wise to leave such a nostalgic post at the top, it only shows my weekness; I'm obliged to write a new post, and another post soon only to drown that one deep into history.

This topic should be pretty provoking: what are the most effective tricks in luring girls. As surely I'm not good at these tricks, and history has proven my failure in using any of these, they only serve as a theoretical weapons of mass seduction, without any first-hand applications.

• Playing guitar
Playing guitar, as described by Auntie Sun, is very effective on music loving girls; she was once almost captured by this simple trick ---- being invited to listen and sing along, she was mesmerized ...

• Taking girls for a ride on a motocycle
This trick emerged from the book I recently read; let the open road lead two free souls to the open unknown. This should work well in places like Montana or Iowa, not in New Jersey. For the rough type, you could wear a T-shirt which says "If you can see this, the bitch fell off" on the back, which seems pretty popular in the biker circle.

Obviously I'm quite ignorant in this field, suggestions? This could be a good reference for the Var and Zhanna kind.

The Other End of the Tunnel

Saturday, March 18; Saturday evening.

This probably was my first time driving throught Holland Tunnel, or at least the first time I could remember. I was stuck in traffic for more than half an hour before entering; as soon as I was inside, the dim light, the off-white walls, even the whirling sound of the air circulation system, vaguely hinted something to me; suddenly I felt lost in the time-space. It felt like I was only minutes' drive from my parents, my home in Shanghai ---- the tunnel is so much like Da Pu Bridge Tunnel. Driving alone, without the interruption of any conversation, I was able to let my thoughts wander. I have always favored a song by Jacky Cheung (张学友), named 纽约的司机驾着北京的梦; however, it could only be a dream, as always. On the other end of the tunnel, how I wished it would be the familiar signs and roads guiding me home; instead, this tunnel was only on my way to pick my wife up at the airport, who just came from the home on the other end of the globe.

I hate to admit I've finally got a bit of homesickness after more than 3 years of no returning. There is even no reason for this hating. Maybe it's only because I'm too aware that even after so many years from home, I can still hardly call this place a home; even if I could visit *home* for several weeks, it is never the same sweet place as before; everything, whatever sweetness deeply planted in my memory, can only be memory forever.

Sleepy Now, Kind of Early

As days passed by, I didn't make any attempt to post any thing here. It seems the fate of my previous journals is inching closer towards this blog as well. At the beginning, I fervently posted multiple posts in a single day, only to see this trend dimishing to less that a trickle.

This blog was started less than 2 months ago, 1 week after my wife left for Shanghai. At this moment, she should be already onboard the flight to Seoul, where she'll transfer for JFK. I have a window open on the other monitor beside me, keeping an eye on the status of the flight, just as what I did for her departure flight. It is hard to say why I am doing this, maybe a mixed feeling of eagerness for a change of life style, in both cases.

I have been reading a book about a solitary journal of a woman on a bike, across the continent. It is not a book with dramatic story lines; it more or less just followed the timeline of the author's travel, and the flow of her thoughts. As I read throught it, I am almost 100% sure I won't remember those roads, towns, or people; at most I might remember some nice places she laborously depicted. I still enjoyed it, as she did something I might never be able to achieve. That actually is the main thing that kept me engaged in the past several days and not posting anything there.

Something about Quail

Quail is suspicious in every way these days.

Last Friday, Milk Bottle called him up to invite him for a dinner gathering with two of their high school classmates, both beautiful ladies; Quail rejected saying he had plan.

Doggie invited us for a hike in Delaware Water Gap on last Saturday; Quail rejected saying he was sick with bird flu.

Now story from Six Crawl saying Quail was using the excuse that he didn't want to be a light bulb in Doggie couple's hike, while not mentioning anything about the fictional bird flu at all.

From all these facts, it is pretty sure that Quail did not *want* light bulbs.

鹌鹑有问题！

Peace Corps

When read about Peace Corps, I bacame interested and did some search. It is a volunteer based non-profit organization. The missions last for 27 months, without home visits during that. It also provides allowances for living and traveling; sounds like a pretty good experience. However, I am not qualified for one reason, that is I'm not a US citizen.

But anyway, there is still hope, as there is not upper limit on age in volunteering. Spending a little bit more than 2 years, experiencing places in greatest needs, would be a very nice touch for the life. This might well be the reason for me to apply for US citizenship in the future. (Otherwise, why bother?)

NYPL

New York Public Library is superb. Years ago I applied for a card, but didn't use it even once. Today I went there again, trying to get a new card, only to be told that my old card is still valid. Suspicious, I tried to borrow a book with it, and succeeded.

As I live in NJ, I also have a library card there. When compared side by side, it becomes obvious that the NY one is far superior in every aspect. I can request hold online, request books to be shipped to a particular branch, borrow audio and video materials, all free of charge; let alone the abundance of books; there are a long list of painstaking services, for the only purpose of making books accessible to every one. Just seeing such a well organized effort makes me feel happy that my NY state tax dollars are at work.

Train Delay

The 7:44 pm NJ Transit train was delayed for more than 1 and half hours, due to an accident near Newark Airport station involving fatality.

Wife's Job Scratched

For whatever reason, she is not going to work in Beijing. Don't know whether I should be happy or be sad for her.

Too Lazy to Find A Title

It's been several days of lazying around without writing anything; not that I don't have a topic, just laziness. However, now I don't really have a good topic. When I think of something writeable, I usually write down a title. This works fine if I pick it up soon enough, I can usually still remember what I want to write and some cue lines. This time when I have a couple of days-old titles, I don't have a clue on how to flesh those out.

One of the titles is Mike Mullane. That's the name of an astronaut, who wrote the book I just finished reading a couple of days ago. That guy is pretty good at writing. Sometimes he would resort to the accumulation of dazzling adjectives, to express some of the poetic thoughts; unfortunately that feels like too much condiments in a fine dish, which tends to spoil it. That said, I still like the book; simply because it's a book about his own life, and his life is as an astronaut.

I guess most boys once had a dream about space trips. What we have never realized is the risk incurred in this dream. The space shuttles have more problems than Microsoft software; some are design flaws, some are simply fatal bugs. If I were to take such a wonderful trip with a 90% chance of survival, would I take it? That's a very good question. I want to jump up and say yes, only to balk when seeing my wife's face in my mind's eye.

I like the narrative tone of Mike Mullane, he was telling his real stories, his joy when getting a mission assignment, his fear before the launch, and their faked smile in group photos before launch. These tiny little details are drastically different from the pompous official propaganda, morphing steely and brave astronauts into earthlings with joy, tear, and most importantly, fear. Therefore, the lives lost in the failed Challenger and Columbia missions are no more represented by weary numbers, they are sons, daughters, fathers, monthers, and friends.

The other book I skimmed through in this week is Generation Debt. The author is a beautiful girl graduated from Yale. The main topic in this book is the yonger generation are facing much more dire problems than the previous generation, listing education cost, job availability, future prospect etc in a hopeless tone; although the last chapter is named Waking Up and Taking Charge, the wake up call is dry and weary. It is true that the government, and the whole elder generation, are slowly going down a path that would result in deserting the younger and providing them a dire future by living in the present. However, it is hard to be convinced that the minimum wage here is more than three times of the daily living expense for almost half of the world population. Anyway, this is a complicated problem with intricate reasonings, I'm not going to dive deeper, so that book was put away.

The Super Gs

As while reading Riding Rockets, I did some calculations. According to the astronaut, the acceleration during launch could reach a little bit more than 3Gs. Be noted that is pure forward acceleration, which builds up the speed travelling forward. As 3G really sounds exciting, I scratched on a piece of paper, trying to see how many Gs we could usually experience, in a passenger car, or even a super car.

For that purpose, I used well publicised 0-60 mph data. 60 mph is roughly 26.67 m/s. For my car, it can reach 60 mph in a pathetic 7.5 seconds. That translates to 0.36G. If your car can reach 60 mph in 6 seconds, you can experience 0.45G if you floor the gas. Now comes the super car, the most powerful and fastest passenger car, Bugatti Veyron; it can do 0-60 in 3 seconds, still that's less than 1G. Maybe the only way to experience an acceleration of 1G in my life time would be jumping off a mountain, head first; even strapping a big rock on me won't make that more than 1G.

抚琴

There is no English translation for this.

Several days ago, I received a catalog through mail from musiciansfriends.com; a review comparing several models of Cordoba guitars caught my attention. I had noticed Cordoba a long time ago, mainly because of their relatively low price on finely made classical guitars; this review reinforced my perception. For a moment, I felt the urge to order one right away. However, given the famous admonition "impulse is a devil", I allowed a certain cooling period, then chickened out.

抚琴 is the exact expression to describe the intimacy between the player and the instrument; it gives life to this interaction. Through smooth and fluent glides of fingers, life is infused into the instrument, which in turn emanates the vibration through the air, eliciting a zen like pleasure; the sound is not only heard by the ears, but also felt through the finger tips, all the ten of them; when a harmony of all the senses echoes inside the body, a transcending ecstacy overwhelms. Damn it I could only salivate at this heavenly experience without being able to reach it.

Near Death Experience, Ross Style

When I was walking into Penn Station in the evening, many people started running towards the exit, shouting "Get out, police said get out"; a pretty scary scene. I started sniffing around, but couldn't sense any smell of exploded explosives. Soon the hallway, usually quite crowded at this time of day, became empty. I was suspicious, because obviously some military person on duty was as confused as I was. As my train was already boarding, and I didn't have any time to spare, I headed towards the track ignoring those runners. Soon announcement came saying previously broadcasted warning was only a drill; I doubt it, could be some screw-up of our dear safe-guards again. But anyway, it seems no one died of a heart attack.

Tears

Tear is a weird stuff; people shed those when they are sad, happy, excited, surprised ...

Tear, as a word, is also a strange combination of seemingly unrelated things. The salty water drops we excrete, versus the action of ripping apart, those do not look too related in my eyes, although it might make a tiny bit of sense when you say ripping hearts apart invokes tears; but that is quite far fetched.

Although tears are not so enjoyable, people love them. There have been numerous songs containing "Don't Cry" or "Tears" in the title or the words, countless TV series and books counting on eliciting as much tear as possible in order to make big bucks. Even in classic works, tragedies seem to overwhelm comedies in the number.

Nevertheless, I have been infused with "man shed no tears" ever since I could understand the first word. Obviously it was partly because of my parents' selfishness, because me no cry would give them a much easier life; only I was not a man yet at that time, sorry for them.

Grown up, I can hardly remember when was the last time I shed a drop of tear. Most recent such incidents happened in dreams, always some eternal departure with closest family member, friend etc; not too many of those, so I guess shedding tears in dreams is only a way to let out the overflowing tear gland. Further back, there was a time when I first arrived in the US for a couple of weeks, and wife started weeping with homesickness; I felt exhausted and helpless and weak, then shed a few drops of tears. Before that it would be more than 10 years of absense of tears as far as I could remember. I would choke on something really touching, like Kevin's picture I posted the other day; but no damp eyes.

When I saw men openly crying for a new baby, a new house, or even a surprise party, I got stunned. Since when tears are so cheap? But slowly, it came to me that tears are cheap; what is not cheap is the real feelings behind that, and the heartily exchange of those with the closest. Tears are cheap so that it could be easily accessible to express yourself fully, no matter what occassion. Despite that, I would not follow that path; partly because after so many years of abstaining from crying, my tear glands are more or less dysfunctional.

In Brokeback Mountain, the cowboys would rather shed blood than tears; this alone has flooded Six Crawl's eyes and noses and the whole face. I was simply envious.

Tears and cheers are close.

Polite Kid

Polite Kid is Aunt Sun; and according to Six Crawl, she is a sterotype of "heavy color light friend" (willing to sacrifice friendship for lover).

As civilized people, we surely are all familiar with the social code of conduct; however, Polite Kid gives an extra run. //find a quote in chat log

It does sound funny that a polite friend could make me uncomfortable sometimes, but that is the fact. Not only me, Six Crawl, maybe the closest female friend of Polite Kid's, also complained about the same thing some time ago. When thanked for tiny petty thing, I often end up wordless. What to respond? "You're welcome"? That's a surely correct but idiotic answer between close friends. Searching for an appropriate answer would render me dumbfounded in appearance, thus turning me into an idiot; even a 3-year-old could respond without a thought, yet I am stuck. I hate to be perceived as an idiot even if I were.

Anyway, the purpose of this post is not to complain, or to admonish, or anything else; I just came to this nice and perfect nick name for her, so I decided to document it: Polite Kid, a.k.a. PK.

Refuse to be Sensitive

There are some limits of my artistic taste, and some poets are definitely beyond those limits; not that they are not good, they are too good that I intentionally refuse to appreciate them; I refuse to be sensitive.

Music is mostly fine though. Even if it evokes some subtle sensitivity, it is only implicitly eliciting the finer side of my soul; given most of the time I only listen to music half heartedly, I rarely feel the aroused uncontrollable passion; even when that happens, usually there is no one around so I could go into complete ecstacy.

Despite my occassion appreciation for the infatuation, I would rather clam up my finest feelings, and keep an indifferent eye towards the world. Not that this is cool, I could be dragged too deeply into the turmoil otherwise. I have always kept this(Kevin Carter)story in my mind. Kevin Carter walked away from the torturing scene after taking the picture, without giving a helping hand; I would probably do the same thing. Then what? One thing is certain, I would not like to end up like him; but as indifferent as I strive to be, would I ever be immune to such a suicide? I have no idea.


P.S.
The linked picture itself is so compelling that could bring tears to many seemingly indifferent people. I feel a pinch in my heart every time I see it, and it only get worse as I see it once and once again.

Hot Chocolate

Before wife left, I bought a huge box of Swiss Miss hot chocolate. I knew it is tasty, and never worried about its Costco packaging. With the mellow sound of guitar strings vibrating through the air, the misty steam hanging above the sweet cocoa surely confers something mysterious.

Despite my effort to stuff my stomach with every meal, and between meals, I still don't gain much weight. For the record, I kind of improved that from 62.5 kg to 63 kg, but that's hardly out of the range of instrumental error.

Flying Quail

Have been lazy for the weekend; actually, weekends are usually the busiest for me. I get around 3 hrs ever day on week days; while on weekends, I usually none. Not that I'm not enjoying that, on the contrary, being with friends is surely one of the most enjoyable things.

After almost 1 year's dormancy off ice, we did some skating on both Sat and Sun. It was the usual process of getting used to the slippery first, then gliding through it, and having some good falls. After just one fall on the side, a swolen pelvis would prevent me from hanging my laptop bag on this side for weeks; yet it's still devilishly enjoyable.

My Sunday adventure on ice was with Quail; he is a very smart guy. When picking up new skills, he takes a very systematic approach, or rather theoretical approach: looking for tutorials, feeling it on a solid ground, then venture on the real thing. That way he could make rapid progresses no matter what he is trying; and sure enough, he was like a flying quail on the ice soon enough.

On the contrary, my approach is much more brute force, it is traditionally called try-and-error. Even after being battered by reality so many times, it's still my favorite approach; I guess that is the difference between smart and dumb; and that should be the reason people call me Daizi (dumb headed) all the time. No matter what, experiencing the struggling and slowly stewing out the taste of fun looks wickedly fun to me despite the bruises suffered from it.

A Tone (调调)

As it is Friday, I left the office a little bit earlier than usual; surprisingly, instead of darkness, the last streak of light was still cast over the beautiful city. Looking down Broadway gave me a picturesque silhouette over the dim sky. Really love the bustling city, even only as a passer-by.

Senseless Ramble

Wife always says if it wasn't for her, how would I ever find a wife in this life. I highly suspect the validity of that statement, but at least it hits one point, I am not a magnet to girls. Whether I am OK with that fact does not really matter, although I really don't mind much.

When a child, I did play with girls from time to time; while mostly boys stay with boys. There were quite some wild activites that were not for the faint-hearted parents. Most memorable ones include crawfish fishing, setting wild fire in open grasslands in winters, building floating devices and running it in pits left in construction sites, playing and being bitten by snakes ... I bet even if we tried to invite girls to join us, few would have taken the risk; besides, my playmates were usually the lowest ranked ones in the class that every parent would urge their child to avoid. By the way, I really hated when people call them bad students just because they weren't good in getting high scores, they were otherwise perfectly fine and fun playmates; they were the ones who first set their feet on a turf that was outside schools. As I happened to be able to get high scores in archaic tests, I was first warmly welcomed by the parents of my playmates, only to be later recognized as a helpless boy that only cared about having fun.

Staying with such a group really gave me a different perspective about our limited life at that time. I didn't really participate in any questionable activities of those "gangs", yet I got famous enough to be recognized by quite some stranger gangsters by face. And rumor was spread that I was a good hand in kungfu. The most impressive kungfu in that regard that I can remember would be crushing pencil boxes with my head, tens of them, of different materials. (There was a period that people got so excited about this that they handed any pencil boxes they could put their hands on under my forehead, and you could hardly find a single one made of tin sheet still in regular shape throughout the classroom.) Spreading such a rumor might be a way to protect me by one of my playmates, but I never got to know who did that and whehter that was really the intention. If it was really for my protection, it surely worked ---- years after I lost contact with them, someone I didn't know stopped me on the way requesting money, but suddenly recognized me and politely let me go. In all those years I kept hanging out with them, seeing them gang-talk, bragging about the bloody fights they picked up, money they "collected", or girls they "played". However, I experienced none myself. The only sort of "criminal" thing I did was smoking with them in the restroom in school, which was subsequently caught by a teacher with solid evidence.

That life ended in early middle-school years. The middle school was a key school in the district, so it was hard to find any gangster-ish guys in the class; at the same time I slowly lost contact with those old frieds. I still made friends with those "low-rank" students in the class, but they were not the brutal trouble maker kind any more; however, the damage power still exists, those were the years when we played wild fires every day in winters.

High school was a completely different chapter, which deserves another post by itself. One thing I would mention is, it was since then did I experience the impetus towards an opposite sex. Although we also fruitlessly drooled over beautiful girls in elementary school and middle school, that was quite kiddish when I examine it today. In high school, things were different. After all, puberty is not only about the body. However, due to my magnetlessness if not repellence towards girls, it was as fruitless as ever. Neverthless, those were the most beautiful 3 years of my life, and I keep regurgitate the sweet and bitter of it till today.

One day when I was in college, I suddenly received a Christmas card or New Year's card from a girl. On that, it said "Let the incandescence of love shine upon us in the new year, shall we?" As that was a question mark, I replied no. At that time I was really enjoying my single life, and didn't give a thought as to starting a relationship. To be frank, I passed a note to that girl years before, and got rejected for no obvious reason. But my replying no was nothing of a revenge or guarding my self esteem; I just felt like setting myself free, really free, sky-is-the-limit free, and getting a girl friend surely wasn't the right thing for the course. It was then when I started practising classical guitar. (I am such a bad student that even after more than 10 years, I still can't play a nice piece.) That mentality lasted for several years, and then I fell in love and got married.

I wouldn't say those lonely years were irresistably enjoyable, but surely they were cherishable. It was in those years the admiration towards Robert Kincaid, the old man Santiago, and Richard Feynman was planted in my mind; I started to understand the weird mixture of wisdom, tenacity and imploding passion of a real man; I started to taste solitude by licking myself like a resting lion (or cat, I don't care); I was getting ready to take full charge of my future years.

Now six years into marriage, I am set alone again for the first time for months; and even more after wife's scheduled departure in March or April. No one knows what will become of the future, but surely I will nourish in a completely different life, and appreciate as always when looking back.


The following is just a small piece that I feel really nice to be written down, but doesn't seem to fit anywhere in this post. Anyway I'm still putting it here, for the record,

A lonely soul is crouching in the corner, peeking through the darkness, trying to get a glimpse of the boisterous world.

Sound of Spring

It was freezing cold last week, getting slightly better ever since.

When wife is away, I have been walking to the train station every morning. It is a 25 minute walk across apartment buildings, little league fields, various styles of houses, and a grave yard. Not too short a walk, just enjoyable in a good weather.

Yesterday morning I was partly waken up by the chirps of birds. I used to hate that. What could be better than a sweet dream, and what could be worse than that being interrupted abruptly? However, yesterday I felt different. It felt like a long lost friend, like birds had not been around for the whole winter, and suddenly came back. Maybe that was the truth, or just my imagination and ignorance to them all along. Anyhow, I started noticing the birds along my walk.

Although it was still chilly with temperature hovering below 30F in the morning, the scent of spring was already seeping through the air; the most daring signs would be the chasing birds. By zooming through the sky, flashing their glaringly-colored feathers, their chorus of love is already in full bloom. Although I couldn't see any green buds on the trees yet, but sure enough before I could notice, it will be green with life everywhere.

I used to hate the brain-dead stupid birds; they aren't capable of communicating with people at all, not like dogs, cats or horses. However, my experience with a little sparrow changed my perspective.

That was before I had a car, I was walking to and from the train station every day. As it was in late spring or early summer, the walk was pleasant. Just as I was able to see my home, a small brown ugly moving thing also entered my sight. The crisp yellow beaks told the age, that was a baby sparrow that could not fly at all. No one would know how it came out of its nest and hit the wild journey of its own. I brought it home.

Usually sparrows are not easy to tame. However as this one was so young, it got accustomed to my home pretty quickly, and started eating. Its schedule was so crazily funny; it would eat, stay calm for 5 minutes, drop everything from its small tummy, and yell loudly for another round of food. This would continue all day long, until we got exhausted and turned off the last lamp. On the next morning, at the first sight of sunlight, it would start its new quest for food. Ever since that little thing came to our home, wife mostly stayed home to take care of it, even gave up her favorite activity ---- shopping. It was endless hassle and fun. The little guy grew day by day, growing feathers, hopping around and dropping around, finally started to learn flying and picking up rice bits from the floor. (Before that it just yelled for food and food would go directly to its mouth.)

Unfortunately, a pretty bad flu hit it. It started sneezing, became listless, and stayed put all day long. On one day, it came back a little bit, chasing rice bits on the slippery floor again, only to die on the next morning.

That was a pretty sad ending, while it showed us the magic of a tiny life, be it a bird, a dog, or even a bug. We felt the joy of watching it grow, without asking for anything in return, not even a meaningful exchange of sight. I cannot explain why.

Now that the sound of spring is in the air, a new round of chasing for life has started. After 4 years of sitting in a car over this path, I am blissful to experience this all again.

Que sera sera . . .

With the blocker out of my mind, here comes some more stuff of our lives over the weekend. Last weekend was a relatively quiet one; we played, till not too late; we ate, fine dishes, yet not too stuffed; we cracked jokes, just to entice a trace of smile. All was so peacefully enjoyable.

Monday was also off, for President's Day. Besides handing in my tax forms to an accountant, I did a little bit shopping for food, and cooked myself another enjoyable meal. After all these years with a conjoined-twin-like wife, I will learn to live alone again.

Although it's only Tuesday today, the gang is already happily planning for the weekend event, where we have 2 birthdays to celebrate. To be honest, I'm always the one who's most indifferent to birthdays, especially after 28 of my own, natural tendency is towards ignoring any more of it. Anyway, it's still a perfectly fine excuse for a fun fun weekend with friends.

Life as a Journey

There have been some never ending questions, why we are here, what we are seeking, where we should end up at. People give different factors to all facets of life. Not to say everyone is blocked in the view, life has such a gamut that wishing to see it all would just sound ridiculously ambitious. I, as a humble and mediocre voyager, will just happily pickup the tidbits along this journey of life.

Six Crawl, Milk Bottle, Pangza, even the seclusive Zhanna all have made their opinions heard, my greatest appreciations to them. At least half of them had their own experience of the matter to back their predictions, yet ultimately two directly oposite camps were formed. It is not remotely possible to say who is right who is wrong, it is just different takes of the greatness of life. In my understanding, life is experience; it is not limited to emotions, to love, to bond of blood or such. If I object to my wife's attempt to establish herself, she would likely regret at age 80, so would I. Maybe simply staying together for life is good enough for some people, yet I beg to differ, so does Milk Bottle, so does my wife.

As I mentioned in the previous post, I believe I am fully prepared to take the risk. That is not to say I won't be weeping, I cannot guarantee that; but even so, I will strive to wear a smile on the face, steer into other branches of life and absorb the beauty along the way. Six Crawl said we were putting a piece of fine china into a wind tunnel; I see this as the price of the experiences, and it is worth it.

I am glad that Six Crawl has also written down her dream about my falling off a building; that would be a fine piece for us to consume in the many years to come. Be it a mental or physical fall, I will enjoy just the same. I value the love in life, but I admire the splendor of life more.

Everything is a god given; I am optimistic, not in the sense of praying for the best, but of happily cherishing whatever comes forward. Not that I am religious or believing in the magic hand of the almighty, my only belief is in life, a wonderful journey through the eternal time.

Blocker

One of my previous posts stoked quite some interest among friends, wild guesses like life-threatening stories (pregnancy/abortion) were surfacing; and the inquisitive Six Crawl again showed her persistency by trying to trick me into a 20Q game.

It seems I am going nowhere without sweeping the blocking event out of my thought. Not able to find a topic to write about after sitting for more than 30 min in front of the monitor, I will simply type it out for the interested.

Just got off the phone call with my wife, and it's almost final. After her return on Mar 18 (or maybe earlier), she will soon go to Beijing to join a new company. This opportunity emerged during her stay in China. It is not that kind of extremely high-pay job, but definitely one that could put her potentials into use, instead of staying here in the suffocating boredom. I strongly support her taking this up, with a trace of worry.

I first got this news not too much earlier than that post in question. With 2 couples among my closest friends breaking up recently due to the hardship of long-distance relationship, I have every reason to worry about the same. This is going to be hard, but Zhanna's knock-out theory does not apply to me. No matter what happens, I believe it's for good. Dearest wife has already spent her precious years in this wasteland, I believe going to the right place is worth the risk, even at the price of our relationship. Hope I am just worrying too much.

Yet Another Blog

Six Crawl finally started her blog, with a kid's version by her significant other half.

鱼

一磅碗鱼一撮盐
一勺香醋五片姜
两勺豆瓣辣酱
暴蒸十分钟
人间极品

Hard to say, too hard to say

Late night is when people are most vulnerable, mentally.

Life is a bitch, it strikes at the most unexpected moment. I feel weak just when I need to be strong. Just read Milk Bottle's latest post, and felt the same. Although I don't want to pass my time in unconsciousness; one thing is certain, we will survive, we will thrive.

The senseless ramble surely expresses something, something I don't know how to say yet.

Friday

Another Friday, another weekend; this one is a long one. High temperatures will drop to a little above freezing point, which has precluded the possibility of hiking. Last night when I checked the weather at Adirondack NY for this weekend, I saw -9F as lows, friggin hell. If I could find some company, I probably wouldn't mind being frozen dead in the mountain though.

The gang has been active for as many weekends as my wife's been away. The Eastcoast Gang (TEG) is the largest gang from my college class, so even some hermetic member keeps being absent, there's still a large enough congregation that can only fit in a cargo van.

Life with TEG is hectic, exhausting and fun; although the fun factor has dwindled a little bit when the cold weather has kept us indoors with card/video games for many weekends. When the gang is not in session, I would just make do myself, like today.

It is pretty windy today. As while I'm typing now on a train, I start to worry a little bit about the walk after this ride. It's a 25 min walk from the station to my home, not too far, just enough for me to stretch my crooked bones from sitting all day long when weather is good; it is a different story on rainy/snowy/windy days though. It seems today is still not too bad, I probably will still enjoy this blow. It would be too boring if you have sunshine every day.

I still have some fresh vegetables and frozen shrimps from last weekend in the fridge, will enjoy my cooking again, with a beer. Within maybe 2 hours, I'll be a complete and happy man.

Oh, one thing worth mentioning is that this blog just received the first several comments, among which there is an obscene one by Six Crawl; but I published it anyway as I'm a pretty tolerant person 8-)

P.S.
The wind was not strong in here, so the walk home was ok. Did not have beer, ate too much, no space for beer any more.

Dream Big

A couple of days ago I attended a talk with an astronaut, Mike Mullane. Dream Big was what he signed in my copy of his book.

"Many people never know what he's capable of all his life."

That's quite a statement, but I believe it true. Just like what I wrote in a previous piece, most people are carefully calculating risks vs gains on everything. Under such circumstances, who could give it all out for a "very risky" item? Well, maybe it'll be much easier for single orphans. I don't know.

I really don't know. Maybe I am too conservative on everything, which makes me sad.

Anniversary

First anniversary without wife aside, quite a different experience.

Being quite busy, haven't posted anything here for many days. Today I have to as this is a special special day. I don't want to confess what I'm busy with though.

V-Day

It's Valentine's Day.

Rose price near the office: $3 for single rose, $8 for 3.

Wife has more or less of decided to come back on March 18, so I've got a solid 1 month ahead of me.

3 Weeks and Counting

It's already Valentine's Day in China. As both my short-term and long-term memory are quite poor, I have to keep reminding myself about this day, so that my wife wouldn't be mad at me. Well, consider this a small cost for the life with a companion.

Life as a single man is not bad; I've got plenty of interesting things to do, while still don't feel too much of lonelyness. With 3 meals covered by the company on weekdays, I can enjoy cooking some meals or just shamelessly crash into Pangza's home to keep myself from starving. However, imagining living the whole life like this is scary, me coward don't have the gut to try that out.

This reminds me of Robert Kincaid in The Bridges of Madison County. Such a seemingly fulfilling life, as a National Geographic photographer, could not stop him from burning himself into ashes in the heated emotions. Maybe it's always this way, seemingly beautiful stuff is the hardest on the bearer.

Wife has been in China for more than 3 weeks. She told her buddy here that she doesn't want to come back. I am also not so eager to get out of this life either. When time flies, you're enjoying. These 3 weeks did just zip through for both my wife and I; sadly it seems I have achieved nothing except this blog, which is not an achievement after all; all the ambitions have lapsed, or vanished. Anyway, it is still an enjoyable experience.

Snow Day

It turned out to be the heaviest snow recorded in NYC. I originally thought about getting a bunch of people to Valley Forge on Saturday, so that we could have a pretty good snow fight on Sunday; unfortunately, some people were too scared to travel in snow, some were so deep in sleep that could not be waken up by the mere cell phone ringtone, yet some others were too sick to even be considered an active fighting force.

As the war plan was called off, we headed to New Port, figured maybe this time we could have a healthier weekend as it seems every one had realized endless card games were not so fun at all; the hope was shattered ruthlessly by reality in the end.

The highlight was still the snow. The drive to the hotel on Saturday night was already spicy enough; the drive to Pangza's home the next morning was even more fun. Although my car was almost completely submerged under the snow, I was still able to drive it around. The car pushed through the snow, just like a boat cutting over the open water. Needless to say there were quite some cars stuck in the knee deep snow along the way, frustrated, trying to roar through the hopeless white.

The drive to home was ok. Turnpike was already clean enough for us to cruise at normal speed; Local roads were in pretty bad shape though, even RT-27 was covered with a hard shell of ice. Driving on the curvy tracks were like slow-motion rally racing, you get all kinds of turns, skids, swings, bumps; yet you don't have to pay for the race track. Next time I should just find a parking lot and try out some stunts. After all this is a risk-free opportunity to try out those things, plus it's much less demanding on the car than the real tracks.

Today I Cooked A Meal

In fact, this is the first complete meal I have cooked ever since my wife is away. It's been 3 solid weeks, and every week it was endless party, thanks to my dearest friends around here. Even today, Six Crawl invited me for dinner as well; thinking that's a bit too much leeching for that young couple, I gratefully said no :)

Cooking is quite fun, and my cooking skill is pretty much ok, as long as I'm willing to spend the time. I can't make very delicious dishes, but I happen to enjoy the taste I can make. Lucky me. Wife sometimes wonders how come I rarely cook, but still can get the taste roughly right, even for those dishes that I've never tried. For most dishes, that actually is not too hard; just decompose the taste and try to paint it back with whatever ingredients you have access to. Well, enough for the boasting, time to get some sleep.

Snow is on the way!!!

Finally, this weekend, a blizzard of possibly 12.2 inches of snow. What better can life give me? And a possibility of thunder snow, which I have never seen in my life. This is truely the weekend of gift, Yahoo!

Risk Management?

Before leaving office, I took a small Sam Adams. The good stuff unlocked my stiff mind almost immediately, put my thoughts gliding freely in a borderless darkness. Suddenly I felt all excited and eager to do stupid stuff, like what I saw in the Top Gear clip last night.

Jeremy, the host, raced up and down a mountain in an Audi RS4 with 414 BHP, against Leo who climbed on the cliff bare handed, well, almost. Jeremy lost miserably.

Uphill was shockingly fast for Leo; it took him 1 hr 57 min, fast enough to beat the RS4; going downhill, both parties tried to make best use of gravity. Jeremy didn't have to push hard on the gas, while Leo jumped off the cliff like a bird. That would be the most beautiful 3 seconds of the clip, until a chute came out of his back. "1200 feet in 20 seconds. Beat that Clarkson!"

For a moment, I wished I were Leo.

For many years, I admired such a life, doing irrationally stupid things, constantly puttying yourself on the edge, and risking the precious life; but, is "stupid" the right adjective? Speed and courage are what men craves, no matter how pointless the action itself looks in others' eyes. The motto should be "I come, I see, I conquered"; no asking for what, at what price; those questions are stupid.

However, the calculative reality slowly wears off men's edges, risks are calculated and managed, projects are tagged with feasibility researches, dreams are dead. If things were so calculative, I wonder how the Colossal, or Alexandar's Library, or the numerous wonders, could ever be made into reality. Unfortunately, we are living in an era where risks are managed; fortunately, we, as human being, still have one nation that is never afraid of dreaming.

• http://video.google.com/videoplay?docid=-5252945100827089880, check out from minute 11:00.

On Sleep

Sleep is a bloody greedy insatiable monster. The more time you give to it, the more it craves for. Irritated and refusing to give it any more? You'll be the one that's crushed. Sometimes it might feel good to be a small-brained and sleepless shark.

Lovely Hearts

Valentine's day is around the corner, and Google has also joined the chorus.

http://www.google.com/search?hl=en&q=valentines&btnG=Google+Search

Enjoy!

Sad Story ---- from Diary

Here is one story from my diary. This incident gave me quite a shock at that time, and I thought I would remember it for quite a long time. It turned out it didn't last that long. Good that I put that into ink, so now I could be shocked again, for good.

The story was about a mid-aged guy, and the time was quite late after dark. There was no record of what I was doing that late outside that day; given around that period I usually didn't do much meaningful stuff after work, it was quite possible that I just finished a nice dinner with friends in a restaurant, or came out of a kara okay bar, or something of the same sort. As I wasn't spoiled enough to take a taxi home yet, I had the chance to experience this at the bus stop.

It actually wasn't a hectic story; everything happened pretty much quitely. This guy, a little bit dilapidated, mid-aged, was selling newspaper. It was a cold night, so there weren't many people around; for those around, they all hustled towards a warmer place, like home. Suddenly that guy started sobbing, for one obvious reason ---- there was still a pretty big pile of newspapers in front of him. That didn't last long, before he wiped off the tears and started yelling for sales again.

Although I babbled quite a lot about what I thought and what I felt and what I guessed in my diary, I'm not going to put it here. After so many years, those are all irrelevant. All I know is I still feel a heart wrenching guilt for not having helped him while I definitely could. Althought most likely that guy overcame the hardship he experienced that night (or I would rather believe so), and probably has already forgotten what happened what happened, it still cannot acquit me.

While less than 10% of the world's population is enjoying a pretty excessive life, more than 50% are experiencing the other extreme. I don't know how to help because I feel like a coward. My wife and I once talked about experiencing some places where people are extremely deprived of the basic necessities of life, and then we flinched at the thought that we would end up giving up all what we have to help; there simply is no way to be rational under such circumstances. Maybe that's why we all bear sins, whoever has the luxury to go to a church or read the bible all bear sins for not being able to help enough.

After I wrote up the above piece simply based on my impression, I checked for some facts, and it is astonishing; over 2.8 billion people are living on under $2 a day; it's pretty sure most of them are living on even much less than that, if the distribution is really like a triangle.

Pangza's Anniversary

Three years ago on this day, Pangza was married; and so did Sister Three (a.k.a. Six Crawl). Sounds much of a coincidence, unless it was not. (For the record, it was 2/4/2003)

Today the couple wanted to have a romantic dinner, without Max around. Was a dinner enough? No fruits? They did spend more than 3 hrs on fruits and kept us waiting for that long before the big day. With such an obsessiveness for fruits, it's amazing to see them returning in 2 hrs, straight from dinner and no leeway whatsoever.

The night after dinner was pretty much eventless. The big gang gathered in front of a 17" monitor and watched a movie, after which a subtle atmosphere of amour inevitably grew in the room ...

Music Night

While I'm alone, I start to try something new. Wife is pretty skittish about sounds when sleeping, whereas I am not. Therefore, I start to put music on throughout the night, although weekends only.

That is a gorgeous experience.

There is a long play list for this, and all tracks are classic music. My favorite musical instrument being classical guitar, music in that is dominant, followed by violin and cello. Pop or country music cannot get into this list, as they don't feel as fluent most of the time, and I don't want to be suddenly waken up by the drummer's impromptu. After several nights' fine tuning (not much), this list is just the right recipe to sooth me into a hypnotized state, and to gently pull me back to reality in the morning with the perfect touch of harmony. The only sadness is that I never have the chance to get the taste of tracks in the middle hours, unless I get up for the bathroom trip which I rarely rarely do.

I remember the years when I had the radio on for the whole long nights from time to time. I'm not sure what the music did or does to my sleep; but in those timeless tunes, my thoughts could just wander into any borderless ecstacy. Finding this neverland again is like getting into touch with a long lost friend, so familiar yet much more to explore.

Top Gear

Top Gear is a talk program about cars, and it's made in Britain.

The special recipe of it is hard to describe. It is a weird but nice mix of passion, chanting of esthetics, and admiration of fine human engineering; of course a pinch of British humour is also indelible. The guys are passionate, not only about cars, but about anything that eminates beauty. Unforntunately, only several clips and full episodes can be found in Google Video, and none of them are among my favorites.

One of the most astounding machine is the Bugatti Veyron built by Volkswagen. To many people's surprise, Volkswagen actually owns quite some exotic brands like Audi, and Lamborghini; in 1998 Volkswagen bought the right to make cars under the famous Bugatti name. The result is a magic machine that packs as much as 1000 brake horsepower into an astounding looking car: Bugatti Veyron, TWO V8's, 4 Superchargers, 1000 BHP, 0-60 in 2.5 sec, and top speed limited at 252 mph. To put it in perspective, for most cars, making 0-60 in 6 sec would be a pretty good mark already. This is by far the most powerful car, and probably one with the highest price tag: $1.7M when I last checked. Now what's the use of such a car? None in quotidial errands.

However, it's not the blind touting of power and price tags that amazes; it's the proud we feel as a human being that such a magnificant machine could ever be made, and some one would commit all the humongous resources that is required. To be fair, how many people would purchase such a car? And in fact, words are spread that Volkswagen made this car just to showcase the capability of it, and they do lose money on every single Bugatti they sell; and I would rather believe it.

Another fine example is an episode in which the three hosts each drove a super car to le viaduc de Millau, the Millau bridge (slightly boring version), in southern France. Why?

Supercars aren't just glorious poster material for kids' bedroom walls. They are a prime example of man's superiority over animals. Our ability to construct objects of awesome power and exquisite design is what drives us, what inspires us, what constantly says to the dolphin: 'you may be pretty clever, but where are your opposable thumbs, smart arse?'

Our celebration takes us through France until we reach another example of mankind creating splendour just for the sake of it - the epic Millau Bridge.

Such a bridge could only be born in a nation that never skimp on esthetics; and such appreciation of engineering could never be felt by Honda drivers.

• One fine clip available on google video: http://video.google.com/videoplay?docid=-6250016339336225105
• It's just road, seat, us, the end.

Diary - Part Deux

Finally finished reading my diary book late last night; it was boring. Obviously wife had read it all (I never hid it from her), and she added the final piece in it long after I gave up the habbit. Just thinking of the fact that wife had gone through every word in there is a little bit scary, there just are quite some private thoughts that should not have been shared with anybody; and I assume that should be the case with most diary keepers.

Then what is a diary for? If the written record is not to share thoughts, is it only for his or her own consumption at a later time? Or for a memoir? Most people won't have much use of it for sure. Probably keeping a diary just shows the eagerness to be understood and to express oneself, with a conflicting fear of exposing too much of the deepest thoughts; pretty much the same case as when weighing the writing of a love letter, or a confession. In this blog, I do carefully measure what I would like others to see, and what I would rather hide from public eyes. Do I really have much to hide? Probably not. Do people really care much about my little clean or dirty secrets? Maybe. Anyway, the torture of this telling/no-telling has been one of the most powerful driving forces of the finest arts.

Body Weight

As this data tend to get lost as time goes by, I'm also recording it here. As of today, my weight is 62 kg.

Cross Continent Trip

The other day Gang of East Coast was planning a cross continent trip. As much as I know that this group does more talk than action, I still hold some hopes. The basic plan would be flying to the west coast, and rent a car to drive back, on which we are going to spend 2 weeks.

Cross continent trips always remind me of Forrest Gump, the dumb headed guy who ran back and forth, and crossed the country 3 times (or more?). When the open road extends in front of you, the temptation of immersing in is irresistible. Once is not enough. I don't know which trip I would prefer better ---- travelling a lonely soul or be with a big gang; both must be treasurable; let alone there are so many different routes leading to different worlds.

Diary

I sleep pretty late these days, for the enjoyment of a little bit freedom with wife away. It seems time never enough, and every night I end up jumping from fun to fun.

Last night, after a shower, I went to bed, but didn't sleep right away. Instead, I pulled out the last diary I kept; that is the only one we brought here. It started from Nov, 1999, when I just started working, met my wife, prepared for graduate school entrance exam (which was a failed attempt), and enjoyed as well as hated the life as a bachelor.

Most of the pieces are just sporadic records of my daily life, dotted by some not-so-sparkling thoughts. Reflecting the life then, I was amazed. It seemed I had more than enough time to take care of everything; hanging out with friends, playing badminton, swimming, going to movies, jogging nightly, having hot pot, singing kara okay; and all these happen almost on a weekly or monthly basis. Even so, I could still stay in the office for much more than 8 hrs a day. Maybe this was just illusion, caused by reading too many pages in one night. However, one thing is certain ---- life is getting more and more monotonous. Friends cluster into families, seeking opportunities around the globe, no longer share the ups and downs together; movie going becomes more of a purpose rather than an excuse for gathering; when the party is over, one thing called maturity settles in.

In memory of the days when Sun Bin, Lao Fang, Wang Kun, Zhang Jialu, Xu Jing were all regular member of the gang.

We rarely shed tears, that doesn't mean we're any less moved.

Brokeback Mountain

I love it.

By imposing the finest emotions unto the roughest mansculine figures, a strong contrast is already in the making. Whereas hetero- love stories depict love with kiss, hug and endless love talk, cowboys express their feelings with fist and blood. Though it is certain that scenes of kissing men would irritate stubborn-heads, who is to say who is right? There was a time when lefthandedness was considered devilish; strong beliefs today could seem ridiculously ridiculous tomorrow.

Lovers risk their lives. I don't know how true that could be; I personally have never been pushed to that extreme. For the sake of the stories, such sacrifice does feel tangible though. As life comes once with every human being, the following quotes sounds reasonable (from the latest issue of National Geographic):

> Love and obsessive-compulsive disorder could have a similar chemical profile.
> Love and mental illness may be difficult to tell apart.
> Don't be a fool. Stay away.

Also a natural explanation/assumption of the endurance of passion, although irrelevant, I can't resist putting it here:

> Relationships frequently break up after four years because that's about how long it takes to raise a child through infancy.

Finalization Company?

Someone from a company called UCB or UCD left a message at my home, asking me to call back and discuss a "very urgent matter". Sounds scary? It does to me.

As I could not recall any relationship with a business like that, or any business that could use that abbreviation, I called back and asked; however the only answer to my question was "this is highly confidential, this is a finalization company, did she mention in the massage that some relative was looking for you". Well, everybody that knows me personally would know I have no relatives whatsoever in the US except probably my wife, who is not here at the moment either. Now who the hell knows what a finalization company is? A company specializes in writing Java finalize() methods? Anyway, the point of contact was not there, and they could not locate my file, so I have no way to know what kind of urgency that is.

I did bite on the golden dumpling (a dumpling with a penny in it) at the Lunar New Year's Eve dinner, does that give me the reason of hoping something big? Maybe Bill Gates is looking for me? Well, a fit of lunaticism is coming to my head again...