Shamu: 鱼眼看美国,以及中国

猜猜这是哪国的风味

猜猜这是什么吃的？

有馅儿，包括鸡肉和土豆泥。

这个呢？

来一杯喝的

放在一起

好吃，再来俩。加点儿辣的

这回要了一个牛肉的

Can I Handle This?

I stumbled onto this writing online the other day. I couldn't help but cried. The inevitable question I want to ask myself, but don't know how to answer, is:
"Would you be brave enough to do what she did?"

My wife and I jokingly talked about adopting a child back in China when we were trying to get her pregnant. Yet, it would have been impossible for us to go through the emotional roller coaster this writer had been through.

========
Modern Love
My First Lesson in Motherhood

By ELIZABETH FITZSIMONS
Published: May 13, 2007

I SAW the scar the first time I changed Natalie’s diaper, just an hour after the orphanage director handed her to me in a hotel banquet room in Nanchang, a provincial capital in southeastern China.

Despite the high heat and humidity, her caretakers had dressed her in two layers, and when I peeled back her sweaty clothes I found the worst diaper rash I’d ever seen, and a two-inch scar at the base of her spine cutting through the red bumps and peeling skin.

The next day, when the Chinese government would complete the adoption, also was Natalie’s first birthday. We had a party for her that night, attended by families we’d met and representatives of the adoption agency, and Natalie licked cake frosting from my finger. But we worried about a rattle in her chest, and there was the scar, so afterward my husband, Matt, asked our adoption agency to send the doctor.

We had other concerns, too. Natalie was thin and pale and couldn’t sit up or hold a bottle. She had only two teeth, barely any hair and wouldn’t smile. But I had anticipated such things. My sister and two brothers were adopted from Nicaragua, the boys as infants, and when they came home they were smelly, scabies-covered diarrhea machines who could barely hold their heads up. Yet those problems soon disappeared.

I believed Natalie would be fine, too. There was clearly a light on behind those big dark eyes. She rested her head against my chest in the baby carrier and would stare up at my face, her lips parting as she leaned back, as if she knew she was now safe.

She would be our first child. We had set our hearts on adopting a baby girl from China years before, when I was reporting a newspaper story about a local mayor’s return home with her new Chinese daughter. Adopting would come later, we thought. After I became pregnant.

But I didn’t become pregnant. And after two years of trying, I was tired of feeling hopeless, of trudging down this path not knowing how it would end. I did know, however, how adopting would end: with a baby.

So we’d go to China first and then try to have a biological child. We embarked on a process, lasting months, of preparing our application and opening our life to scrutiny until one day we had a picture of our daughter on our refrigerator. Fourteen months after deciding to adopt, we were in China.

And now we were in a hotel room with a Chinese doctor, an older man who spoke broken English. After listening to Natalie’s chest, he said she had bronchitis. Then he turned her over and looked at her scar.

Frowning, he asked for a cotton swab and soap. He coated an end in soap and probed her sphincter, which he then said was “loose.” He suspected she’d had a tumor removed and wondered aloud if she had spina bifida before finally saying that she would need to be seen at the hospital.

TWO taxis took us all there, and as we waited to hear news, I tried to think positive thoughts: of the room we had painted for Natalie in light yellow and the crib with Winnie the Pooh sheets. But my mind shifted when I saw one of the women from the agency in a heated exchange in Chinese with the doctors, then with someone on her cellphone. We pleaded with her for information.

“It’s not good,” she said.

A CT scan confirmed that there had been a tumor that someone, somewhere, had removed. It had been a sloppy job; nerves were damaged, and as Natalie grew her condition would worsen, eventually leaving her paralyzed from the waist down. Control over her bladder and bowels would go, too; this had already begun, as indicated by her loose sphincter. Yes, she had a form of spina bifida, as well as a cyst on her spine.

I looked at my husband in shock, waiting for him to tell me that I had misunderstood everything. But he only shook his head.

I held on to him and cried into his chest, angry that creating a family seemed so impossible for us, and that life had already been so difficult for Natalie.

Back at the hotel, we hounded the women from the agency: Why wasn’t this in her medical report? How could a scar that size not be noticed? It was two inches long, for God’s sake.

They shook their heads. Shrugged. Apologized.

And then they offered a way to make it better.

“In cases like these, we can make a rematch with another baby,” the one in charge said. The rest of the process would be expedited, and we would go home on schedule. We would simply leave with a different girl.

Months before, we had been presented with forms asking which disabilities would be acceptable in a prospective adoptee — what, in other words, did we think we could handle: H.I.V., hepatitis, blindness? We checked off a few mild problems that we knew could be swiftly corrected with proper medical care. As Matt had written on our application: “This will be our first child, and we feel we would need more experience to handle anything more serious.”

Now we faced surgeries, wheelchairs, colostomy bags. I envisioned our home in San Diego with ramps leading to the doors. I saw our lives as being utterly devoted to her care. How would we ever manage?

Yet how could we leave her? Had I given birth to a child with these conditions, I wouldn’t have left her in the hospital. Though a friend would later say, “Well, that’s different,” it wasn’t to me.

I pictured myself boarding the plane with some faceless replacement child and then explaining to friends and family that she wasn’t Natalie, that we had left Natalie in China because she was too damaged, that the deal had been a healthy baby and she wasn’t.

How would I face myself? How would I ever forget? I would always wonder what happened to Natalie.

I knew this was my test, my life’s worth distilled into a moment. I was shaking my head “No” before they finished explaining. We didn’t want another baby, I told them. We wanted our baby, the one sleeping right over there. “She’s our daughter,” I said. “We love her.”

Matt, who had been sitting on the bed, lifted his glasses, and, wiping the tears from his eyes, nodded in agreement.

Yet we had a long, fraught night ahead, wondering how we would possibly cope. I called my mother in tears and told her the news.

There was a long pause. “Oh, honey.”

I sobbed.

She waited until I’d caught my breath. “It would be O.K. if you came home without her.”

“Why are you saying that?”

“I just wanted to absolve you. What do you want to do?”

“I want to take my baby and get out of here,” I said.

“Good,” my mother said. “Then that’s what you should do.”

In the morning, bleary-eyed and aching, we decided we would be happy with our decision. And we did feel happy. We told ourselves that excellent medical care might mitigate some of her worst afflictions. It was the best we could hope for.

But within two days of returning to San Diego — before we had even been able to take her to the pediatrician — things took yet another alarming turn.

While eating dinner in her highchair, Natalie had a seizure — her head fell forward then snapped back, her eyes rolled and her legs and arms shot out ramrod straight. I pulled her from the highchair, handed her to Matt and called 911.

When the paramedics arrived, Natalie was alert and stable, but then she suffered a second seizure in the emergency room. We told the doctors what we had learned in China, and they ordered a CT scan of her brain.

Hours later, one of the emergency room doctors pulled up a chair and said gravely, “You must know something is wrong with her brain, right?”

We stared at her. Something was wrong with her brain, too, in addition to everything else?

“Well,” she told us, “Natalie’s brain is atrophic.”

I fished into my purse for a pen as she compared Natalie’s condition to Down syndrome, saying that a loving home can make all the difference. It was clear, she added, that we had that kind of home.

She left us, and I cradled Natalie, who was knocked out from seizure medicine. Her mouth was open, and I leaned down, breathing in her sweet breath that smelled like soy formula.

Would we ever be able to speak to each other? Would she tell me her secrets? Laugh with me?

Whatever the case, I would love her and she would know it. And that would have to be enough. I thanked God we hadn’t left her.

She was admitted to the hospital, where we spent a fitful night at her bedside. In the morning, the chief of neurosurgery came in. When we asked him for news, he said, “It’s easier if I show you.”

In the radiology department screening room, pointing at the CT scan, he told us the emergency room doctor had erred; Natalie’s brain wasn’t atrophic. She was weak and had fallen behind developmentally, but she had hand-eye coordination and had watched him intently as he examined her. He’d need an M.R.I. for a better diagnosis. We asked him to take images of Natalie’s spine, too.

He returned with more remarkable news. The M.R.I. ruled out the brain syndromes he was worried about. And nothing was wrong with Natalie’s spine. She did not have spina bifida. She would not become paralyzed. He couldn’t believe anyone could make such a diagnosis from the poor quality of the Chinese CT film. He conceded there probably had been a tumor, and that would need to be monitored, but she might be fine. The next year would tell.

There would be other scares, more seizures and much physical therapy to teach her to sit, crawl and walk. She took her first steps one day on the beach at 21 months, her belly full of fish tacos.

NOW she is nearly 3, with thick brown hair, gleaming teeth and twinkling eyes. She takes swimming lessons, goes to day care and insists on wearing flowered sandals to dance. I say to her, “Ohhhh, Natalie,” and she answers, “Ohhhh, Mama.” And I blink back happy tears.

Sometimes when I’m rocking her to sleep, I lean down and breathe in her breath, which now smells of bubble-gum toothpaste and the dinner I cooked for her while she sat in her highchair singing to the dog. And I am amazed that this little girl is mine.

It’s tempting to think that our decision was validated by the fact that everything turned out O.K. But for me that’s not the point. Our decision was right because she was our daughter and we loved her. We would not have chosen the burdens we anticipated, and in fact we declared upfront our inability to handle such burdens. But we are stronger than we thought.

(Elizabeth Fitzsimons, who lives in San Diego, is a reporter for The San Diego Union-Tribune.)

A Professor's Lecture of a Lifetime

(From the Wall Street Journal by JEFF ZASLOW)

September 20, 2007; Page D1

Randy Pausch, a Carnegie Mellon University computer-science professor, was about to give a lecture Tuesday afternoon, but before he said a word, he received a standing ovation from 400 students and colleagues.

He motioned to them to sit down. "Make me earn it," he said.
What wisdom would we impart to the world if we knew it was our last chance? For Carnegie Mellon professor Randy Pausch, the question isn't rhetorical -- he's dying of cancer. Jeff Zaslow narrates a video on Prof. Pausch's final lecture.

They had come to see him give what was billed as his "last lecture." This is a common title for talks on college campuses today. Schools such as Stanford and the University of Alabama have mounted "Last Lecture Series," in which top professors are asked to think deeply about what matters to them and to give hypothetical final talks. For the audience, the question to be mulled is this: What wisdom would we impart to the world if we knew it was our last chance?

It can be an intriguing hour, watching healthy professors consider their demise and ruminate over subjects dear to them. At the University of Northern Iowa, instructor Penny O'Connor recently titled her lecture "Get Over Yourself." At Cornell, Ellis Hanson, who teaches a course titled "Desire," spoke about sex and technology.

At Carnegie Mellon, however, Dr. Pausch's speech was more than just an academic exercise. The 46-year-old father of three has pancreatic cancer and expects to live for just a few months. His lecture, using images on a giant screen, turned out to be a rollicking and riveting journey through the lessons of his life.

He began by showing his CT scans, revealing 10 tumors on his liver. But after that, he talked about living. If anyone expected him to be morose, he said, "I'm sorry to disappoint you." He then dropped to the floor and did one-handed pushups.
[photo]
Randy Pausch and his three children, ages 5, 2 and 1.

Clicking through photos of himself as a boy, he talked about his childhood dreams: to win giant stuffed animals at carnivals, to walk in zero gravity, to design Disney rides, to write a World Book entry. By adulthood, he had achieved each goal. As proof, he had students carry out all the huge stuffed animals he'd won in his life, which he gave to audience members. After all, he doesn't need them anymore.

He paid tribute to his techie background. "I've experienced a deathbed conversion," he said, smiling. "I just bought a Macintosh." Flashing his rejection letters on the screen, he talked about setbacks in his career, repeating: "Brick walls are there for a reason. They let us prove how badly we want things." He encouraged us to be patient with others. "Wait long enough, and people will surprise and impress you." After showing photos of his childhood bedroom, decorated with mathematical notations he'd drawn on the walls, he said: "If your kids want to paint their bedrooms, as a favor to me, let 'em do it."

While displaying photos of his bosses and students over the years, he said that helping others fulfill their dreams is even more fun than achieving your own. He talked of requiring his students to create videogames without sex and violence. "You'd be surprised how many 19-year-old boys run out of ideas when you take those possibilities away," he said, but they all rose to the challenge.

He also saluted his parents, who let him make his childhood bedroom his domain, even if his wall etchings hurt the home's resale value. He knew his mom was proud of him when he got his Ph.D, he said, despite how she'd introduce him: "This is my son. He's a doctor, but not the kind who helps people."

He then spoke about his legacy. Considered one of the nation's foremost teachers of videogame and virtual-reality technology, he helped develop "Alice," a Carnegie Mellon software project that allows people to easily create 3-D animations. It had one million downloads in the past year, and usage is expected to soar.

"Like Moses, I get to see the Promised Land, but I don't get to step foot in it," Dr. Pausch said. "That's OK. I will live on in Alice."

Many people have given last speeches without realizing it. The day before he was killed, Martin Luther King Jr. spoke prophetically: "Like anybody, I would like to live a long life. Longevity has its place." He talked of how he had seen the Promised Land, even though "I may not get there with you."

Dr. Pausch's lecture, in the same way, became a call to his colleagues and students to go on without him and do great things. But he was also addressing those closer to his heart.

Near the end of his talk, he had a cake brought out for his wife, whose birthday was the day before. As she cried and they embraced on stage, the audience sang "Happy Birthday," many wiping away their own tears.

Dr. Pausch's speech was taped so his children, ages 5, 2 and 1, can watch it when they're older. His last words in his last lecture were simple: "This was for my kids." Then those of us in the audience rose for one last standing ovation.

宝宝睡觉的问题

我家小宝三个半月了，现在夜里睡觉要醒太多次，把我们大人快拖死了。
每天晚上倒是很有规律，分别在8点，11点半，4点，6点吃奶，然后早上8点起床。怎么能让他睡过整夜，至少少醒4点（或6点）那次呢？我看很多人训练孩子3个月就可以睡整觉了。还是都由着他来？
=====================
家庭自拍证件照

ME Version 2.0 Released

我儿子已经快8周了。现在我们还是手忙脚乱，没时间写什么东西。

现在真是应了那句话：猫一天狗一天，要不就是一次只吃一点，一个小时以后又哭着要吃，要不就是白天该睡的时候死哭不睡。各位有经验的妈妈，我们应该怎么办呢？

先上张照片，有时间再写点。

小i不喜欢日本

you says:
你去过日本么？
小i机器人 says:
没去过，但是他们说日本人挺恶心的！
you says:
怎么恶心法儿啊？
小i机器人 says:
别人教的
you says:
说说
小i机器人 says:
好啊，想说什么就说什么吧
you says:
我说你说说
小i机器人 says:
哈哈，不说不说，你先说
you says:
别人教你什么啦？
小i机器人 says:
才没几天，我的成长离不开你的关心。 [:)] 快去做我的小老师吧 http://pub.xiaoi.com/i/new/ent/20070317/40.html

聪明的机器人

今天在Sinosplice看见说小i这个机器人。赶紧跑去试了一下。

看起来是网友训练的,说话都有小女生味。

（因为是网友训练的，据说对日本，台湾话题有偏见，不过我还没机会试。）

小i机器人 says:
Hello，宝贝！我…是…贞子，放我出来…

you says:
hi, 小i你好
小i机器人 says:
你好呀:）
you says:
今天心情怎么样？
小i机器人 says:
还不错，就是有点想你了！真的，饭都没怎么吃！
you says:
真的？咱俩都不认识呢！
小i机器人 says:
你爱我吗？
you says:
什么呀
小i机器人 says:
嘿嘿，你反应怎么这么慢啊
you says:
你反应快，说的都不搭边
小i机器人 says:
呵呵，一般情况了
you says:
还需要训练一下
小i机器人 says:
我从来没试过.真的没试过？
you says:
是谁教你的？
小i机器人 says:
啊啊，不知道，不记得了
you says:
好吧，就这样吧
小i机器人 says:
好的，88

Free cell phone services

I have a cell phone with a monthly plan of 450 peak minutes, of which I barely use maybe 200. Now I can play with some free services with those spare minutes thanks to this New York Times article.

I tried the free TellMe information service (1-800-555-8355) and was able to get sports score update.

There is even a number to free International calls (712-858-8883) . Need to try it at the right time when my parents are awake.

五彩冷盘

黄豆芽，豆腐丝（俺们美国内陆小城也有豆腐丝卖！）开水抄一下

其他的原料：胡萝卜，黄瓜（$1.79一根的英国黄瓜），香菜。

切啊切啊切啊切

装盘，加盐适量，然后倒上醋，淋上少许花椒油，就可以上桌了。

色鲜清脆美味健康爽口。

此冷盘是用来招待同事来家party的七菜一汤之一。还有一大盘是不加香菜的。极受欢迎，尤其得到印度素食夫妇青睐（我们一共做了四个素菜）。

上菜了:珍珠丸子

生米凉水泡24小时。
猪肉馅和用food processer打碎的油菜（现在健康第一，已经不习惯吃纯肉丸子），生姜，盐和馅。
泡好的米平扑在瓷盘里。
包好丸子，在瓷盘里打几个滚儿，让米粒儿沾满丸子的表面。

装盘，上蒸锅蒸半小时左右，就可以出锅了。

健康美味，

Blogs I read (4)

As a Chinese living in the US, I have a weak spot for expat writing. I particularly love to read blogs written by western people living in China. They are easy to love because they are funny, they look at things I know from a different perspective and they are honest. One of my favorite is Violet Eclipse, an English teacher living in Yantai. Today I came upon this entry about ordering banana in a Yantai restaurant. In short, they tried to order fried banana, an entry on the menu, but were always denied. They finally brought a banana and the restaurant gave in and cooked for them.

And my first reaction was: I miss China!

Blogs I read (3)

It’s been a while, but at least I’m picking up the topic again.
Last time I talked about reading American celebrity blogs—Mark Cuban and Donald Trump. While Mark Cuban is a poster child of the new rich, it is hard to label Donald Trump (save for the now contrite hair joke)—he made his fortune a long time ago (so long that I thought he was long dead) but recently enjoyed an even grander comeback, thanks to the Apprentice gig. He takes the word “unabashed” to a new extreme.
While I, like many people, often find his excessive self-promotion uncomfortable, I have a genuine respect for the man for what he does and has been able to accomplish. This happens especially after I read his blog, which despite his busy schedule, he still finds time to write some interesting stuff once in a while. And I began to ask myself, “what can I learn from him?”.
Well, the question is not hard to answer if you read his recent piece here. Here’s a quote:

“Not everything works out as we might hope it will, and certain fields require a bigger dose of luck to succeed in than others, but a very good way to pave your own way to success is simply to work hard, be diligent, and to look at what you have going for you, versus what you don't have going for you - the old cup half full vs. half empty test. Here's where I bring back my tried-and-true theory that you have to think big - because if you're diminishing your own prospects, then it's not likely you will run into a lot of luck.”
To put it differently, to succeed, you have to work hard and you have to be able to evaluate your competitive advantage constantly.
I have heard this before, but to hear it from someone who has been there, done that, it just adds a great deal of credibility.

Blogs I read (2)--Celebrity Blogs

In America, celebrities are often what I call "deserving" celebrities, because most of them are 1) smart; 2) talented and 3) hard-working. Observing their behavior, I always thought they deserve to make the amount of money they make for their work, the sacrifices they, and often their family members, have to make. They take the word "professionalism" to extreme in everything they do. Including blogging.

Of course, most celebrities are too busy to write a blog, if people like me only have time to update a couple times a month (although I'm trying to pick up). But many have found it a good marketing tool--after all, they are all confident that the more people know about them, the more they'll be liked, and the easier for them to sell whatever they need to sell. (I think this notion is generally true here in the US, however I am not sure about its applicability to celebrities in China. It's more often the case that the more we know about a Chinese celebrity, the less we like them. But this point deserves another blog entry by itself.)

Getting back to my list. I subscribe to two blogs by American celebrities.

The first is Marc Cuban's Blog Maverick. Yes, this is the guy who became a millionnaire at the age of 32 and a billionnaire at the age of 41, when he sold Broadcast.com to Yahoo at the peak of the dot com boom.
What do I like about the blog? Marc Cuban writes his blog exactly as you see him on TV--bold, unabashed, intelligent, thought-provoking and always looking at things from a different angle. The only difference is now he has unlimited space and time (constrained only by his own time) to preach or market whatever he wants to hawk. Oh, did I mention he's also a master seller? I have never seen a person like him who can sell anything he wants to (ok, so he doesn't want to sell everything). Just look at this entry in which he solicited new ideas for attracting people to cinemas. He offered to give the person with the best idea a job in his company--not easy since the bar is very high and so many people who would kill to work for him read the blog. Even without finding anything worthy of the prize by his criterion, the entry itself already made enough buzz to market his company.

Reading the blog, with its no-apostrophe rapid-fire style, you can even envision how fanatically Marc typed away in front of his computer--just like him on TV. I once saw him giving an interview on ESPN before this year's NBA finals. He was talking while exercising on a stairmaster while making jokes of Shaq. (Ignore the idiotic title the uploader gave for the video.)

He's done other interviews on the same stairmaster in the finals. To be able to speak--let alone telling jokes--while exercising just shows how smart the guy is. I have never seen anyone taking interviews while exercising, and probably never will on anyone other than Cuban.

Well. Enough about Cuban. I'm running out of time. Guess I'll continue tomorrow. Just so you don't go to bed unable to sleep, the other American celebrity blog I read is Donald Trump's blog, the Apprentice guy and real estate fame.

Sushi Closeups

Some people demand to see more details of the sushi. I can't disappoint my fans. :)

Japanese Cooking

Like George said, we like to try new cooking at home. Recently we (read: my wife) conquered Japanese food. Of course, I did the photographing.

The first one is vegetarian, with avocado, cucumber, and carrots.

The second one has a shrimp, similar to California roll, only better.

Then there are the hand rolls. Contrary to my imagination, they are easier to make than sushi.

The spinach dish is my wife's innovation:

While it was easier than we thought, it did take a lot of time.

Austin Beautiful (2) (and Tasty Too!)

We headed out to dinner in a TexMex restaurant (where else?) in Austin.
The time is approaching dusk, and we find ourselves driving in the traffic on 360, also known as the Capital of Texas Highway. This has been voted the most beautiful highway of Austin many times and it is not hard to see why. Even sitting in traffic, we cannot help but enjoy the great view of hills.

After passing a road named 2222 (twenty-two twenty-two), we are suddenly on this road cutting through limestone hills:

In front of us is the famous Loop 360 Bridge over Lake Austin:

We are heading to Maudies Milagro, a local TexMex favorite that is in a plaza called Davenport Village right next to the highway (and a wealthy neighborhood). I have never been to this place before but it was an easy choice when I searched for Austin TexMex restaurants as it had won Austin Chronicle's Best Enchilada in Austin two years in a row.

The restaurant is up on a hill (as always in Austin) on the second floor and there is a balcony at the back overlooking the highway and the sunset.
I did not take a picture of the entrence, but here is a picture i found on the web:

Before sitting down, we checked out the views. The sky is a little cloudy for a good sunset. Nonetheless, people are having a good time, and the view is terrific:

The inside is also lively with young people sitting at the bar:

"Do you want to sit inside or outside?" Asked the waiter.

Tough choice.

In the end, we gave in to the view and the atmosphere on the balcony.

The food did not disappoint either.

First, the mandatory chips and salsa. I also requested guacamole, our favorite:

DXM got Chipotle Shrimp Quesadilla:

It is *tempting*.

And I went for the "Rockin’ Ruthann’s", a chicken enchilada:

What a great meal!

Austin Beautiful (1)

We are spending the spring break in Austin, TX, where I lived for six years before heading north. We are enjoying every minute of our stay here.

Some pictures.

俺的撞车经历

上学的时候开个破subaru,右转弯的时候被后面轻轻顶了一下,现在想起来是个福特金牛,保险杠撞歪了,没什么大事.下来正想跟他理论呢,那哥们儿说是公司的车,找保险公司吧,很痛快的留了保险公司电话就走了. 撞的很轻,我自己仔细感觉了一下,好像身体没事,就不准备计较了.

给保险公司打电话,原来在加州,根本本地没有,就让我去修车铺估个价传真给他们.俺估计这个小case一个, 发个传真他们就写个支票完事儿, 根本连牙缝都不用剔.俺穷学生哪能放过这样挖资本主义墙角又顺便发点小财的好机会啊,于是去了三个body shop(现在想起来, 俺早在N年前就深刻贯彻”三个代表”了! Step aside, JXX!). 当然去了先强调一下是别人的过错,保险公司陪的,指望着能给估个好价钱(deal精神咱融会贯通!). 开始去的那个看了看俺的破车,说这个问题不大,不用换零件,敲打敲打就够了,也不容我分辨,大笔一挥,$179.给我这气的!

走,咱找别人去!俺听别人说修body是最贵的,要不大街上怎么那么多撞了以后歪瓜裂枣的也不整整容就出来晃悠的车那,怎么到了俺这就这么便宜?打发叫花子哪!

于是就开着车在大街上xue2me (这两个字怎么写?),终于看见一家门面极为讲究的汽车美容院, 大摇大摆把俺的破车开过去停在门口—都这样了谁怕谁呀! 进了屋,你说档次不一样就是不一样嗨, 墙上挂满了各种锦旗奖状证书啥的(噢, 记错了,老外人家不兴锦旗的).相比之下刚才那一家就像个街头摆摊的. 老板(也许是颇有老板意识的伙计)明明看见俺开着破subaru过来,仍笑脸相迎. 俺照例把开场白讲了,他说,”您慢等,在这休息室凉凉快快儿的,喝点水,或者咖啡. 我马上给您做.” 总之是在休息室里好吃好喝了一会,就见他已经拿着打印好的估价进来了.一共$759. “谢谢”, 俺终于舒了口气, 我觉得这车跟我这么多年了,不会关键时候不给俺争气的么! “让我先和保险公司联系,再回来修.”我嘴里这么说,心里想着拿了这钱,干什么不比把这歪屁股弄正强!

出了这一家,还不放心,回家的路上又拐进一家店估了价, 这回不高不低, 四百多. 感情人家第二家就是质优价高! 当即对自己宣布,循价结束. 然后拿着估价单,一路哼着小曲儿开回了家.

接下来的事虽然俺是第一次, 也再容易不过了--把估价单传真给保险公司. 过了两个星期,收到一个电话,让俺签个免责声明, 确认以后不会再纠缠他们,收到以后就可以寄支票给我了. 我又仔细感觉了一下脖子,嗯,好像真没事儿,就一切照办了.

回想起来,这是俺到美国以后赚的最容易的钱了.

什么,车修了么? 您说那?

=========================
Moral of the story:
别替别人想太多,很多人或者是公司的保险,或者保险里有第一次免责的优待.只有你自己才会为自己想.

Friendly Fire

Being a Texas Longhorns fan (that’s my alma mater), nothing was bigger than last night’s game.

Texas 41, Southern California 38.

We are now National Champions!

For the next few days till this weekend, the UT Tower will be lit orange with a big #1 on each side, as shown here in this photo from UT’s web site:

There is a real-time tower cam. If you visit this page during night time in the Central Standard Time zone from now to this weekend (January 8, 2006), you should see the same picture as above.

Like Lee Corso on ESPN said, this game will go down in history as one of the best college football games EVER played. I know, he’s a little opinionated, but hey, nothing is too exaggerating when you describe the heroic comeback, especially what Vince Young has done with his magical legs.

What makes this game extra interesting to me is that my sister and her husband are actually students of USC now. So you can imagine, above and beyond all the hypes built towards this game, between two undefeated teams one looking to three-peat (USC) and the other to finally win that game after winning all but the big ones (Texas), our little extra twist makes the game so much more special.

We hosted a party to watch the game at our home. For the record, here are the mails I sent out to my Texas friends before and after the game.

==================================
BEFORE THE GAME:

Hi guys,

Are you ready for tomorrow's big game? I don't know about you but I'm
totally hyped up. Especially consider the fact that my sister is at
USC now! I will be hosting a party at our home to watch
the game with some old UT friends and new friends. The only
requirement for non-UT people to join is that--it's a very small
requirement--that they cheer for the Texas Longhorns! And my friends
are totally cool with that. Of course, I will be wearing my Longhorns
T-shirt and I've got my supply of Dr. Pepper, some salsa and tortilla
chips!

The Wall Street Journal Weekend Edition on December 31 had an
interesting piece about predicting the result of the game. Basically, it says the computer predicts Texas will win, but human experts prefer USC.

As an IT expert, I say "let the computer prevail and human experts be doomed".

Go Longhorns!

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AFTER THE GAME

Wow! What a game. This will go down in history as one of the greatest
college football game evers played. My only wish after the game was to
be in Austin right away. It must have been quite a scene. I still
vividly remember the day in 1996 when we upset Nebraska in the First
Big12 Championship game--all the drivers were hunking their horns and
all the toilet papers were thrown on trees. That game was nothing
compared to this win. I can only imagine what it must have been last
night.

Instead I went to UT web site and found the tower will be lit for the
rest of the week. We can see the tower live cam here:
http://www.utexas.edu/spotlight/2006/tower0104.html

GO HORNS!
=======================================
And here's a response from a UT friend:

I was too nervous to watch at the very last. I have kept both my fingers
and toes crossed. I have even pushed three people who didn't care about UT
to cheer for UT. (But in return, I have to sing one person a song, tell a
story to another one, ... But it is all very worthy. We need all the
supports we could get. It was too close.)
One of the best games I have ever watched. Go Vince!! Go Longhorn!!

Merry Christmas

As Chinese and non-Christian, we do not celebrate Christmas as a religious holiday. We do not skip it either. Instead, like typical Chinese living in America, we celebrate it by eating. In our case, it was cooking and eating some home-style food.

Also want to mention--I have no problem with "Merry Christmas", and I don't think it's a problem for most Chinese. After all, the festival has never had any religious meaning to us to begin with. It is just another holiday that sits nicely before the New Year to make the end-of-year rush easier to manage.

My Guilty Pleasures (II) and Happy Thanksgiving

Thanksgiving is tomorrow and today many Americans are on the road. I’m currently in Chicago--been here since last weekend and later today we are driving back together home.
It’s snowing heavily outside. All the news channels, meanwhile, are reporting at different airports how busy they have become, especially at Chicago O’Hare, where the flights are being delayed for more than an hour.
This may be boring for you, but, surprise, this is another pleasure I enjoy annually. For some reason, I just love those shots in the airport, on the road, showing other people traveling. Call it my guilty pleasure No. 2. Maybe it’s enjoying the travel without the hassle of travel, to some extent. Maybe it’s because I just love it when the whole nation seems to be on the move.

On a relative note, Thanksgiving is tomorrow. Juju was prepared to make rounds at the post-Thanksgiving sales, otherwise known as Black Friday. My suggestion was to avoid it as much as possible. After all, this is just the beginning of shopping season and stores are not marking everything on sale. I used to have lofty expectations for these sales but always got disappointed—the stores use so-few-it’s-impossible-to-get cheap items to get you in there but nothing else interesting was on sale. Throw in the sleepless night and the horrible traffic at 5AM on the highway. It’s never worth it.

Happy Thanksgiving!

Learning English

托的’s blog on language and the ensuing discussion make some interesting points. It reminds me of my personal experience of learning English.

When I first learned to speak English in the mid 1980s, I tried hard to imitate the American accent. Back then, the only resource (and a very good one) was the Voice of America. I started with Special English, a program targeting beginners using a small set of words and broadcast very slowly but clearly. To this day, I still think this is the best resource for English pronunciation. I was lucky to find it as early as I did. I loved to listen to programs such as Words and Their Stories, the American Mosaic. Words and Their Stories are made up of stories about American slangs. The American Mosaic depicts life and social phenomena in the US. Not only did I learn many English words through these programs, but I also, as a boy in a faraway nation who is strongly interested in the American culture, got a close and vivid look at what it was like to live in America. While there were other controversies on VOA offerings, as an English learner, I am greatly appreciative of the English programs it broadcast. I am glad to see now it all the programs available online. With the convenience of listening to it any time anywhere, today’s English learners probably cannot picture what it was like for me to wait on a certain time, search through the noises on a short-wave radio on countless nights, and the joy of discovering the most authentic pronunciation.

Thank you, VOA.

The Joy of Parking

... in Chicago.

I have been driving to Chicago every weekend so far. As everyone knows, parking is hectic in the loop. To help my wife’s move-in and settling down, I paid for the first month’s parking in the apartment’s garage. At $210 a month, it’s still below the market rate. Now that we are settled down, and decided not to pay the exorbitant charges, so looking for a parking space has become our favorite pastime (with monetary reward). This weekend we had to do it twice, on Friday night and Saturday night. Fortunately, there are a few street parking spaces that open up for the weekend. Boy, did they fill up fast! Also, near where we live, there are a couple of streets with free all-time parking, a rarity in the loop. I even saw a space open today after I parked my car on my way home. Within 10 seconds, a car pulled over and backed into the parallel space. I figure for every ten cars in the area, there must be nine looking for parking, and the remaining one just pulling out. Garage parking costs over 30 dollars for 24 hours, and meters are a quarter for five minutes. No wonder people are willing to circle around forever to find a free spot, and stay there as long as they can.

For us, instead of paying the garage, we decided to park on the street. There’s always one available on weekends if we are willing to go farther. It just means a little more exercise. For us, this is the perfect solution.

If you ever need to park in the loop in Chicago, let me know and I’ll share with you my experience.

Happy Moon Festival

Today is the Moon Festival. I don’t even remember when I last celebrated. I mean, real celebration. Sure, I have managed a few bites of moon cakes, but since I’ve never really enjoyed this part of the Moon Festival, it should not count. Being with my parents and sister. The last time this was even possible was 1994. Ten years ago. It’s been a long journey.

People say the Mid Autumn Festival (the literal translation of 中秋节, the Chinese name) to Chinese is what Thanksgiving to Americans. But from my memory, the Festival is always more associated with distant love than family reunions, right from the origin of the story. The image of 嫦娥 (Chang E) waving to the husband in the moon forever etched in my mind. Being physically apart, yet never closer in heart--it is type of romance we understand all too well. Not the chocolate, flower, fragrance type the westerners are more comfortable with.

When I drove back from Chicago last night, the full moon was hanging above in the sky, pouring the silver light all over the prairie. With me being one of the few cars traveling on the highway, cruising at 80 miles an hour, and Chinese pop music playing in my CD, I felt like I’m in another world. It is a strange feeling, but at the moment I enjoyed it. Being oneself and enjoying oneself in such a setting does not happen often, and I made sure I treasured the moment.

Happy Moon Festival, everyone!

Starbucks Horror

Today I went to Starbucks and bought a cup of coffee. Man, it’s like 100% caffeine! I had the coffee at around 3PM, and even now at 10:20 I feel like I’m going to be up all night! When I think how many people come in here and get their fix every day, this is kind of scary.

Which reminds me of my most favorite comedian, Bill Maher. (He is the best, period.) He’s an avid supporter of the legalization of marijuana. To him, smoking marijuana is no different from smoking cigarettes, drinking alcohol or drinking coffee. Each is addictive, makes people high and does not harm others in any way (except second-hand smoking, which is why it’s banned indoors almost everywhere). It should be each adult’s own responsibility to not abuse them.

If I visit Starbucks, I’ll be in for the T-Mobile HotSpot wireless connection, not the coffee. Maybe a cup of tea, at most.

Long time no blog (2)

I’ve been adjusting to the weekly commuting life for the past three weeks. It’s not easy, but I got something positive out of it—the switch of cities and atmosphere is a nice reward for the time spent on the road.

The next few weeks will be adjustment for me again—I’ll be taking public transportation (Amtrak) instead of driving. The inhibitive parking expenses are just too much, at more than $200 a month. The advantage of public transportation is obvious: I can do something on the train, like blogging. :) The price is the loss of my flexibility.

Chicago

Alright, I guess by now everyone has guessed this bigger city I've been referring to is--Chicago. Chicago is a great city, especially in summer. And I've only recently discovered its beauty.

Today's Friday, and I'm back in Chicago again. Wife is too tired from working to do anything other than sleep after dinner (talk about life of a consultant!). And that left me with the empty living room with a notebook on top of my lap, facing the well-lit skyscrapers out of the windows, blogging. The small city where I was earlier today (I'm going to keep this one secret for now) seems so far.

On a side note, these two days this site has been spammed pretty bad--I got about 10 junk postings every day. Extremely annoying. The originating IP address kept changing. All I could do was deleting each post individually and banning each individual IP. Does anyone know how to block this? I need your help.

It's fun to give

It's late night and I was about to sign off but the urge to blog kept coming back to me. "Alright"， I told myself, "if there's a visitor in the next minute I'll owe him/her a new one". And truth be told, the counter just went from 1900 to 1901.

One of the nice momeries of life came last week when I went to pick up my wife at the airport. It was a long flight from Beijing to Chicago. I was wandering in the terminal, with the two dozen roses in hand. It's just less than two months since I left Beijing, but it seemed so long.

"请问您讲国语吗?" ("Do you speak mandarin?") I heard a man asking me and wondering how he knew I was Chinese.
"是" ("Sure.") I nodded.
"Are you also waiting for someone from UA 850?"
"Sure."
"Is it here yet?"
"Yes, they are passing the customs, I guess."

...

"Where did you buy the flowers? In this airport?"
"No, I brought them in."

A hint of disappointment came and went away, quickly. By now, I started to be curious about the guy. Why was he so eager to talk to a Chinese and getting something for the person he's picking up? It must be some special person and there must be stories behind him.

It turned out to be 40 minutes before I met my wife, and the conversation never stopped as we both stared at the big screens monitoring the exits from the customs area. A long but brief story, told by his nondescriptive tone:

He's a delivery worker in Chicago's Chinatown, speaking no English. An ex-restaurant waiter, he was caught once by the INS as an illigal immigrant. Desperate, he went to fight in the court (with some help from an agent). Luckily, he won the case and became a citizen. The wife, who was in China and has not seen him for five years since he left, just immigrated to the US. Literally, as she was on the flight and was passing the customs as we spoke. His child, now 12 years old, was still waiting for American immigration approval. He was telling this little by little, as if it was just something natural, everyday life. And the woman he had not seen for five years was coming out any time!

I wanted to turn my head from the monitors to him, to again watch a man, a Chinese man, moments before the time he probably dreamed about for all these years. But I didn't, not because I did not want to seem strange, but because I knew I could anticipate what I would see. A face that would have no sign of excitement. After all, he's been through too many dramatic things in life, and this one, as comforting as it would be, is just another step towards his next chapters in life.

Still, I was deeply moved. By the resilience of life. By the endless pursuit of opportunities in the worst conditions.

I offered him the flowers, joking it didn't really matter much for our short separation. But he politely declined.

In no time, my wife appeared in the right exit. A different, and prettier, look from last I saw. A hug and kiss later, we found ourselves pushing her cart towards the guy. I told her the story, and she happened to know his wife as they met in the check-in line in Beijing. I also told her about the flowers. Being a super sweet person, my wife offered the flowers again to the guy with little hesitation. And with some persuation ("We don't need the flowers any more..."), the guy happily accepted.

Four days passed and I couldn't help but recall the whole scene over and over again. I am sure the wife was beyond herself when she saw her husband first time in five years, and am positive the little roses would bring more joy to the reunion. I hope the guy didn't tell the truth to her, and even wanted to have him describe how he carefully selected the flowers instead. That would be the best use of our flowers and our blessings will always be with them, secretly.

I wish I were a better writer to capture the feelings of us humans. But regardless, this would stuck me as one of life's treasurable moments. My eyes are always open for such times.

Chicago

This theater is in Chicago's newly opened Millennium Park. We visited it last Thursday. What a magnificent park!

Speakers hanging from the metal frames can bring the music to audience sitting on the lawn way behind the rows of seats:

Besides the theater, I also loved the Family Album exhibit. As well as the Cloud Gate sculpture below:

Notice the reflection of the architecture on the other side of Michigan Avenue. Isn't it gorgeous?

Besides the park, we also visited Lincoln Park. My cousin and I enjoyed Korean BBQ, and topped it off with tea and live music in a small coffee shop.
This neighborhood rocks!

It took only one visit to fall in love with Chicago. I only wish I could move here for good.

Going to Chicago

I'm leaving for Chicago tomorrow (I should say later today) till the weekend. Will stay in a hotel in the loop. Hopefully I will find time to update my blog there. And post some pictures.

I can't wait to visit the newly opened Millennium Park!

I love Fish

The white bass I cooked for dinner. Here’s the Chinese recipe (without exact measurement, which is in typical Chinese style). Please ignore the follow-up.
It tasted wonderful. I don’t know why these “net friends” at Paowang are sooo picky. Everybody that has tried my fish couldn’t have enough of it.