olympics mystery

Yesterday in Beijing, much of the Olympics buzz revolved around Liu Xiang withdrawing from the 110m hurdles.


The official story is that an old Achilles heel injury flared up two days ago.

Liu's coach Sun Haiping, who broke down in tears at a news conference yesterday, told CCTV that the sprinter had suffered a recurrence of an Achilles' tendon problem by ``pushing too hard'' when practicing starts on Aug. 16. His right ankle bears the brunt of the push from the starting blocks.

Liu said he had run a time of 12.90 seconds in practice two weeks ago -- the world record is 12.87 seconds. Attempting to run yesterday might have caused lasting damage, he said.

``If I tried to pull through, my Achilles' tendon would . . .'' he said. ``I really couldn't make it, as much as I wanted to. I couldn't describe my feelings at that moment. Do I really want to pull out of the first heat of the games? But that's the way it is.''

Most articles reporting on the injury mention the great mental stress Liu endured, from the nation's expectations. As I see it, the potential scenarios were:

a. Exactly as the official story claimed. Liu Xiang was in peak condition, but by sheer bad timing, his Achilles heel injury flared up at the last minute.

b. His injury was aggravated by the pressure. Had he not been so stressed, he would've recovered in time to race, or the injury might not have flared up at all.

c. His injury was not bad enough to cause withdrawal, but it reduced his chances of winning. Rather than face a heightened prospect of losing, he withdrew instead.

d. He wasn't injured at all. He cracked under the pressure and concocted a story about the injury.


After watching the interview with Liu Xiang and his coach, I don't think (d) is possible. The international media is presenting (a) but Beijing cab drivers seem to think it's (c).

If you have an analysis, post a comment! Unless your view on the Olympics is similar to my friend Dan.

Me: "What do you think of this Phelps legendary streak? It is pretty impressive!"

Dan: "I hear there's some athlete winning some medals, is that what you're talking about? :)"

George W Bush enjoying the .. Olympics

This morning, Bush observed the women's volleyball Olympics match. I am amused by this photo.

photos of duck, and an unknown celebrity

On the flight from the US to Beijing, one of my fellow passengers wore a black velvet suit, and a hat with a shiny band. It was the most attention-grabbing outfit I'd ever seen on an airplane passenger.


In the arrivals lobby, he and his friend were mobbed by a crowd of Chinese girls who clamored for autographs. The two of them stood sullenly, pressed against the elevators by the crowd. They said only a few words, in between jabbing the elevator call button.

I asked a passing airplane attendant who it was. She said he is "Bo Bo". Who is that? Nobody knows.

My friend Xian said, "Nowadays you can pay people to act like your fan. They'll greet you at the airport with a big sign, 'I LOVE YOU'. It just costs a few hundred chinese yuan per fan. This guy can't be a celebrity, or he wouldn't be wearing a shiny hat. Instead he'd be wearing a baseball cap, pulled low."


View from my desk in the Google Beijing office. I'm working from the office during most of my stay here.

Looking out any window, the eye meets a sea of 30-story buildings. At first I found this very isolating. Any of us could jump out the window, and it would make barely an iota of difference in this dense city.


View from a different window.


Chinese people share my liking for pigs. Our family friend has stickers of pigs in her kitchen, for no good reason.


Sha-mayn took me and other friends to a secluded duck restaurant. This is the bar outside the restaurant.


The restaurant itself. I like this architecture with the wooden ceiling and the skylight.


The waiter carving the duck for the table next to us, with the elegant woman.


Condiments for the duck. I've eaten duck at half my meals here.


A waitress waiting during a lull. I thought this looked very old-world.

pressure can make diamonds ... how about gold?

China is fixated on getting gold medals in the Olympics.

The culture has always emphasized perfection. If it's not gold, it's worthless. If you're not #1, then you must be crap. My cousin's teacher once called in his parents to discuss his inadequate performance on an exam. After a long lecture, my relatives asked with fear, "What exactly did he get on the test?" The teacher's answer: 96 out of 100.

I made this visual demonstration of how it pertains to the Olympics. This is how you or I would respond to a silver medal:



Now let's look at it from the eyes of China.



The pressure is negatively affecting some of the athletes:

To learn how their athletes would handle the pressure of competing at home in the Olympics, Chinese sports officials conducted an experiment earlier this year: They invited athletes' parents to watch a gymnastics meet.

Most of the gymnasts, who have lived at their training center since they were young children, had never competed in front of their loved ones. Some could not cope.

'During the competition, some athletes didn't feel very good and even fell down from the balance beam.'

This morning, my cab driver and I had a discussion about this. In particular, we talked about Liu Xiang, the Chinese hurdler who won gold in Athens 2004, and who is representing China in hurdles this time too.



Liu Xiang is on billboards everywhere in Beijing, and his name is often associated with phrases like "the hopes of a nation ride on his shoulders". Or "1.4 billion people are rooting for him to win gold".

In a poll of Chinese citizens, staging a successful Olympics ranked fourth; watching Liu Xiang win gold ranked first (link).

Maybe Liu Xiang will be able to match the sky-high expectations, the way that J.K. Rowling did for the seventh book of Harry Potter. But I can't imagine the terror of those 12.86 seconds, after these months of buildup.

My dad told me once that computer programmers are not suited for sports competitions or artistic performances. "Those require precision on the day of the performance," he said. "You can't go in with the mindset of 'A mistake is fine. I'll just recompile. I'll get it right on the third try.'"

The cab driver this morning was even-keeled about the pressure on the athletes. "If I were the media," he said, "I would remind people that Liu Xiang has serious competition. If he doesn't win gold, it's not unusual. And whether he wins gold, silver, bronze, or nothing, he's put China on the map for track and field, and we should support him."

I like the sentiment quite a lot, but I don't think it would work as well for marketing.

I can't imagine a big China Mobile ad that says, "The hopes of a nation lie with him ... whether he wins gold, silver, bronze, or nothing."

it was Dan's description which won me over

Two months ago, I wrote a post about deciding between two beds, which I labeled A and B.

Out of 40 replies on my blog and FriendFeed, three voted for A and the rest for B. Responses included:

*B*B*B*

Dan: "B displays strength and grace with good proportion. A is a napkin doodle, a napkin doodle made by somebody trapped in a loveless marriage."

I say BBBBBBB!

I was momentarily swayed by the extreme nature of the votes, but in the end, I decided to get A. It arrived last month, and I finally had time to put it together a week ago.

Here it is in my guest bedroom. I think it looks lovely.

the most dangerous number?

Eating brunch with my brother.

Me: "Last week I met a Googler who used to be an astronaut. He lived on the space station for six months."

Tom: "Wow, that's cool."

Me: "The space station is designed to house five people, though there were only two when he lived there."

Tom: "Did the two people speak the same language?"

Me: "Ha ha. I hope so."

Tom: "What would happen if they didn't get along?"

Me: "I assume NASA selects for people that will get along with anyone. Though, I was wondering what the most dangerous number of occupants would be. If there's only one person, they'll certainly go crazy from the loneliness. If there's two people, they might get into a fight and chase each other, knocking over equipment. If there's three, two of them might form an alliance, and the third person would feel left out."

Tom: "Two is the worst. What if they hate each other? They can't just draw a line down the middle of the space station."

Me: [laughing]

Tom: "They'll make a line of potato chips in zero-gravity. It'll be really obvious if someone crosses the line."

Tom's Olympic forecast

Over brunch at Coupa Cafe, a few hours before I fly to Beijing for the Olympics.

Tom: "China is going all out for the medals this time. They have the home advantage."

Me: "I'm looking forward to watching ping pong. Odin predicted the finals will be China vs. China."

Tom: "No, not necessarily. It could be China vs. an American-born Chinese."

okay, i'll buy travel insurance beforehand

While eating guacamole and chips at a Mexican restaurant:

Me: "The Antarctica tour company cancelled all their 2009 trips. They realized that they can't fix up their new boat in time."

Tom: "They missed their ship date."

Me: "Ha ha. Anyway, it takes a lot of renovations to prepare the boat for Antarctic conditions. Their old boat, the MS Explorer, sank last November."



Tom: "Are you sure it's safe? Think about it -- they bought the new boat with the money they had left over from the first boat."

gratitude experiment, part 2.

[This is a continuation of my gratitude experiment.]

There is a Googler named Mike who is brilliant and ridiculous. (Some of you may already be able to guess who it is, by this description alone.) He was one of my Google interviewers, and I was floored that he not only invented a compression algorithm that I'd used for years, but was also uninhibited enough to impersonate a happy puppy during the interview.

Every time I talked to him, Mike did something ridiculous. He inhaled the helium from my happy-face Noogler balloons (a gift from Google to each new employee) and talked in a squeaky voice. He made lamb noises on a street corner when a bunch of us went to a restaurant. Once when I was in his office, he showed me a can of putty which made disgusting noises as he pressed his fingers into it. He described with relish how he and his officemate used it to embarrass people while they talked on the phone.

I usually gave killjoy responses like "Oh my God, that's absurd", but secretly I really liked the silliness.

Summer of 2004 rolled around, and I went through a difficult time. A member of my family was hospitalized, and I didn't know if they would ever recover. To add insult to injury, the insurance company was reluctant to pay for treatment. I had to petition hard to convince them each step of the way. Furthermore, the patient was angry at the way we were handling the situation, and arguments broke out amongst the rest of the family as a result. My brother and I went through the only major fight of our lives, going nearly a week without speaking to each other.

My team at work was also shipping Desktop Search. Suffice it to say that I was not very relaxed at that time.

One day during this period, Mike came over to my work area to visit. We walked around the floor to the microkitchen. He asked how I was, and for some reason, I told him the unpleasant truth without whitewashing.

Previous times I discussed the situation with others were often not comfortable. People would first assume that it was cancer, and pat my arm sympathetically as they described how their aunt battled breast cancer and beat the odds. After I corrected them on the illness and described the ugly details, we would veer off the scripts of social custom. People didn't know what to say, and sometimes this made them very uncomfortable.

That did not happen with Mike. He listened to my tale, throughout my emotional retelling. I was grateful just for that.

Then he brainstormed ideas. He suggested potential solutions in California, in Nevada, in other states. He named people around the company who might be able to help, some who had similar experiences, some who I barely knew. He said I should go ask Eric Schmidt for help. I said it was preposterous to ask our CEO about a family medical issue, and how would Eric help anyway? He said it was not preposterous.

It was in fact preposterous, but it was also very kind. Mike treated the problem as though it were his own. At one point, I made a lighthearted comment on a different subject to give him an "easy out" in the conversation. He ignored me, and kept on proposing solutions. When he ran out of ideas, he looked at me, and said with sincerity, "I don't know what else to suggest. What are we going to do?"

That meant so much to me. One pain I've found in discussing miserable problems with others is that moment of goodbye when they go back to their lives and I go back to mine. Sometimes relief shows in their eyes -- relief that they're not the one dealing with the ordeal. That's understandable and human, but it becomes all the more valuable when someone chooses to take on the problem with you, even if only for a moment.

So, thank you Mike. I never properly thanked you, and you're not the maudlin sort, so this will have to do.

avatar humor

At lunch with a few teammates and a Googler "Andre". Andre and I sat at the Google table last year during an industry event, and we've talked a few times since then.

Andre: [long-range ideas for my project]

Me: "These are good ideas. So you used the product then?"

Andre: "Don't you remember, I sent you a picture of my avatar?"

Me: "When?"

Andre: "On the day you launched."

Me: "We talked on my launch day?"

Andre: "Yeah, I sent you an IM. I was surprised you responded."

Me: "I'm surprised too."

Andre: "I sent you a picture of this tall, handsome avatar, and I said, 'I'm picking this guy because he looks like a stud."

Me: "I don't remember this."

Andre: "I was hoping you'd say 'That's good, because you are a stud."

Me: "What did I actually say?"

Andre: "You said, 'That's good, because our product motto is 'Be who you want.''"

this problem should be solveable with a simple web site

Today Google News has a spate of these stupid headlines:
Math scores for girls and boys no different, study finds:

The analysis of standardized test results for more than 7.2 million students in grades 2 through 11 contradicts a pervasive gender stereotype.

The mere fact that this stereotype exists in the US and not in China should reveal its baselessness. Chinese people assume girls and boys will do equally well in math classes.

However, Chinese people have their own sexist perspectives. I've been asked so many times by women in China, "I really like computer science, but should I switch careers because women become mentally much slower after age 35?"

I say, "Where the hell did you hear that from?"

They say, "Everyone agrees it's true. Men continue to function well mentally, but women really deteriorate at 35."

Me: "No, not everyone agrees. I do not agree. No one in America has ever said this to me."

...

We need to compile a list of the stereotypes in the world. Every time one of them exists only in specific countries, and there are no genetic traits that would clearly cause it, the stereotype should immediately be debunked.

pigsong

Last Thursday, I met a woman who used to own a pot-bellied pig as a pet. Her name was "Judy" (changed for privacy), and the pig's name was Napoleon.

Judy said Napoleon was very loving. He came trotting to the door when she came home. He sang little oinking songs to her throughout the day. He insisted on sleeping next to her at night. He did tricks like rolling over. She fed him yogurt as a reward, and he licked it off the spoon.

Judy did an impersonation of one of Napoleon's oinking songs. It was cute.

Sadly, she lost Napoleon due to a custody situation.

As a result of talking to her, I did more research about pot-bellied pigs. This wikipedia quote is concerning:

Unfortunately, pigs do not like to be held or "cuddled," as dogs, cats or other domesticated predators do. ... Attempts by humans at lifting or hugging are always interpreted by the pig as hostile and result in struggling and squealing. The one time pigs, by instinct, will welcome close contact is to huddle while sleeping, an instinct which conserves body heat and provides protection.

But at least the pig likes to be held when sleeping. That is important.


This could be me!


This could be me!


This could be me!

...

Talking with my friend, a Googler.

Me: "I emailed the [Google-internal] mailing list 'pet-owners' about raising a pig, and -- "

Friend: "What? You're so absurd."

Me: " -- and no one owns a pig."

Friend: "Maybe there's a special mailing list 'pig-owners'."

first go stand in a crowd of your competitors

Me: "Why are you working day and night?"

Christopher: "We're shipping our product in two weeks."

Me: "What, you are? That's wonderful! That must be very exciting for you."

Christopher: "From the outside, the observer is always talking about how exciting it is. But ask the person who is launching in two weeks 'Are you excited?' and they'll say, 'No, I want to kill myself and everyone around me.'"

lack of antarctica

The Antarctica travel company emailed me today. As many commenters noted, their ship M/S Explorer sank last November.



They bought a new boat, and are fixing it up. Previously they expected to finish retrofitting it before the 2009 trips.

However, it turns out they won't be done in time, so they're cancelling all their Antarctica trips until 2010.

:(

I'm so disappointed. That could have been me on that boat!

needs some kind of QA

The chinese symbols say "Cafeteria".

photos from spring 2008

Tonight I cleared out my digital camera. Here are some photos from this spring:


Quartet of cheesecakes that I ate. That's poppyseed in the middle.


In March, my family looked around this new casino in Vegas. It allegedly set records for how much it cost to build. But it felt so bland! It was like walking around a shopping mall (with waterfalls).




My friend Charles bought a lovely house last month, and I helped him move in.

Me: "You know, now that you bought this house, it's a sign that you're ready to settle down. You're going to be flooded with women."

Charles: "Is that how it works?"

Me: "Yes. It's like getting slashdotted."


Chocolate cake, creme brulee, and tiny milkshake. And I have some kind of hot chocolate or mocha in the cup. I need to consume less sugar. But I remember this food as being very satisfying.


This is the perfect meal. It has every food group.

anticipating Antarctica

I booked a spot on a 10-day Antarctica trip next March, with
GAP adventures. The company owns a single boat, the M/S Explorer.



My friend Lori went last year and raves about it.

I chose this boat because it has a "Fitness Center". I expect there will be a lot of downtime while crossing the Drake Passage, and I may as well exercise. Otherwise you get cabin fever or something.



GAP runs an identical trip in January (the Antarctic summer, with 20+ hours of daylight). Unfortunately it was full, so I reserved a spot on the March excursions. It has fewer animal sightings, but I care more about glaciers than penguins. Haven't I seen penguins in the zoo? I mean, look at this:



It's pretty much the same as this, right?



My primary enjoyment of traveling lies in the anticipation beforehand and the fond memories afterwards. During the actual trip, I'm often cranky from the long hours of flying, jetlag, getting lost, starving.

This trip is great because I have nine whole months of anticipation.

The M/S Explorer also has multiple places to socialize. There's a library room, a lounge, a bar, and a cafe. Other Antarctica ships usually only have one large lounge. Having multiple lounges is good, in case one lounge is occupied by a loud person who gets on your nerves.

Today Lori said that she actually swam in a pool of water in the Arctic circle, without a wetsuit. Her body went into shock, and she had a headache the rest of the day, but it was worth it.

...

A couple weeks ago, at dinner:

Me: Is it very cold in Antarctica?

Lori: No, it's not that cold, because you wear special clothes. I find it colder in Berkeley, actually.

Me: [describing Lori's photo of penguins]



Tom: You could bring home a little penguin.

Me: No, it would die! It's used to being in ice all the time.

Tom: Apparently Berkeley is just as cold as Antarctica.

Me: Anyway, there's a January trip and a March one. I'm thinking about the March one.

Tom: Great, it'll be March of the Penguins.

Directness in dumping.

Three weeks ago, my friend Melody broke up with the guy she was dating, "Fernando". She told him that she doesn't want a relationship right now. "You're such a wonderful guy and you deserve a woman devoted to you," she said. "I can't give you what you want, because I value my freedom too much right now. So I'm going to let you go find what you really need."

This sounds almost believable (especially to the lovelorn Fernando).

Except that Melody then entered into a relationship the following week with a different guy. Now she's all lovey-dovey with New Guy.

Of course, when I ask why she didn't want to keep dating Fernando, it's a different story. (details altered for privacy) He was too picky, and often criticizing the way she did things.

Why didn't she give this information to him, I ask? Then he can either:
a). treat his next girlfriend differently, or
b). make sure his next girlfriend is fine with his demanding nature

I propose that we all be honest with the people we dump. Instead of the baloney of "we drifted apart" or "we don't have enough in common", let's say what the real reason is. "You got too boring" or "You get angry too easily" or "You got too fat" or whatever.

Part of the problem is that some reasons are taboo. If a guy says, "I'm dumping you because you got too fat," he's considered a jerk. But if he didn't want to date her in the first place due to fatness, that'a acceptable.

I think both should be acceptable.

it will be br8

I'm thinking of throwing a party.

At my last party (Halloween), one of the activities was to each write a page of a ghost story. I provided markers and Halloween-themed stickers.

I found a spiderweb scrapbook at the crafts store. It accomodated 20 pages. But I figured everyone would want to write a page (or several), so I bought two scrapbooks. Even so, I worried that 40 pages would not be enough.



As it happened, two people wrote proper pages, and then it degenerated into a guestbook. Page 3 said, "Thanks for throwing this party!"

The final tally: four pages.



I like hosting parties that have some kind of theme. Maybe it can be a hat party. I can wear something like this:

29

Today I am 29. Last night, at dinner:

Galahad: "Congratulations on becoming a prime number again. You've now passed the longest stretch between prime numbers, for a while."

Omst: "There's a big gap between 29 and 31, because women turn 29 over and over again."

Me: "No, Sex and the City taught us that 30 is good."

Omst: [turning to me] "Is this the first time you're turning 29?"

Me: "Yes, of course."

Omst: "You're so good at it, for your first time."

Me: "I'm a natural. I was born to turn 29."

Tom: "29 is the new 23."


Doing hamachi shooters, for the first time. It is a combination of raw hamachi, a raw egg, and some other raw fishy materials. Much better than I expected.

no, it was on Bebo

Today is my mother's birthday.

niniane: I sent my mom a flowering plant.
omst: On Facebook?

:(

wanderlust

I have the travel bug quite badly. Later this summer, I'd like to go somewhere with museums and historical sights, and a laidback culture. It's a bonus if the destination allows me to get by in English or Mandarin (or high-school German).

I'm considering the following:

Germany. I could visit the Google Munich office.


Russia with my dad (who speaks rusty Russian):


Washington D.C.:


Cornwall, England.


Votes on which one will be most interesting?

reading about other people's good times

I am very amused by this write-up about the making of Meridian 59. My friend is one of the original creators of that game.

Archetype is a virtual company. I have never met any of these people before, in person. I have only interviewed with one person over the telephone. Everything is surreal and dreamy. I live in total terror that maybe this is all a joke and I will be on the curb come rent time. Miraculously, a paycheck actually appears in my mailbox at the beginning of the month.
...
One of our new Guardians chooses the very original name ‘Gandalf’. When told by his coworkers that they were all going to start a tradition of having names that start with ‘Z’, he sullenly changes his name to Zgandalf.
...
Not to be outdone by 3dosucks, a new website goes live, detailing how Q will give personal favors in the game for oral gratification. This is accompanied by doctored images of his in-game character. The entire team is quite amused. Except for Q.
...
In a round of layoffs, I am forced to lay off my own brother. We rehire him a month later.
...
The entirety of server 109 gets bored, and raids server 108. They don’t player kill. Instead, they all choose names starting with clone, as in ‘clone1’, ‘clone2’, ‘clone3’, ‘clone4’, etc. They all use the same character model and they only speak in binary. One person, the master, does all the talking for the group. Server 108 freaks the hell out. They blame us. We try to explain that we aren’t that smart.

In an admirable example of the community defending itself, a player on server 108 starts a new character, calls it ‘Clone16’, and joins the game. Immediately, the other clones include him in the clone’s in-game chat channel, and start talking normally, saying things like ‘ha ha ha! I can’t believe they R so freakd!’ He quietly listens. The next day, he posts a log on the message board complete with a listing of which clone is which 109 player, and which clone guy is cheating on which clone woman with which other clone woman.
...
One of our Guardians parts ways with the company, muscled out for giving favors to his favorite customers. He is so popular that dozens of people write messages on boards that cover hot tech stock tips saying that 3DO is going down because they can’t keep their best CS people. Our stock actually dips that day.

you had me at "hello world"

niniane: "We could store section X of data in memory."

alipé: "Or we could use that memory to increase the overall cache."

[ ... various debate ... ]

alipé: "We're only speculating that X will be accessed more often than the rest of the data. Better just to rely on caching."

niniane: "That's a good observation."

alipé: "Show me the cache!"

earthquake comic

I'm reading this set of earthquake comics.

My encounter with Star Trek celebrity

Google has brought in a number of well-known dignitaries over the years, and I've gotten used to seeing them around campus. But on Tuesday, in the bathroom adjoining the gym, I experienced a heart-stopping brush with celebrity.

I was washing my hands when a tall woman in a black sweater walked past me. She looked like Gates McFadden. Then I looked at her visitor tag and it read "Gates McFadden".

I experienced a jolt of adrenaline.

Gates McFadden is the actress who played Beverly Crusher on "Star Trek: The Next Generation".



This was very, very exciting for me.

I watched a lot of Star Trek growing up. Dr. Crusher was a fascinating character: cold and a little aloof, very professional, very beautiful, with an interesting past.

My friend Laura walked through the bathroom door, and I waved her into the locker room next door. Then I said, "OhmyGod, Gates McFadden is in the bathroom!!"

Laura said, "Who's that?"

I pulled us both back into the bathroom. As the Gates McFadden-like visitor headed toward the door, I stopped her and asked, "Are you the actress who played Dr. Crusher on Star Trek: The Next Generation?"

During my entire question, she peered down at me through large sunglasses, with no facial expression. I began to feel pretty foolish. Then she removed her sunglasses, and said, "Yes I am."

I should've realized the answer would be yes, because who besides an actress would wear sunglasses in the bathroom?

I presume it's to avoid being dogged by persistent Star Trek fans, like me.

She had read a flier hanging around, and she asked me, "What's a changelist?"

I explained.

She asked Laura about her work, and told us the reason for her visit. Then she said Google was a great place, and very "Star Trek-y". I presume the last part was to humor me. I enjoyed it very much.

Then she left before I could start in with, "Hey, in that epispode where you're psychically bound to Captain Picard and you discover your feelings for each other..."

great speech

I'm sure this will be blogged everywhere, because it's so damn good. But let me say how touching I found the J K Rowling commencement speech:

I shall never forget the African torture victim, a young man no older than I was at the time, who had become mentally ill after all he had endured in his homeland. He trembled uncontrollably as he spoke into a video camera about the brutality inflicted upon him. He was a foot taller than I was, and seemed as fragile as a child. I was given the job of escorting him to the Underground Station afterwards, and this man whose life had been shattered by cruelty took my hand with exquisite courtesy, and wished me future happiness.

So I think it fair to say that by any conventional measure, a mere seven years after my graduation day, I had failed on an epic scale. An exceptionally short-lived marriage had imploded, and I was jobless, a lone parent, and as poor as it is possible to be in modern Britain, without being homeless. The fears my parents had had for me, and that I had had for myself, had both come to pass, and by every usual standard, I was the biggest failure I knew.

You might never fail on the scale I did, but some failure in life is inevitable. It is impossible to live without failing at something, unless you live so cautiously that you might as well not have lived at all - in which case, you fail by default.

A or B

I decided upon this bedframe for my master bedroom:


Alas, it is currently out of stock. While I wait for it, I am going to satisfy my bedframe-buying needs by purchasing a frame for my guest bedroom. The room looks like this, without the rug or furniture (this photo was taken at the previous owner's Open House):


Which one is better?

A.

B.

in which I identify an important deficit in the world we live in

Last night I saw the "Sex and the City" movie.


It was so good. I feel like a changed person. I'm going to get all the Sex and the City episodes from Netflix.

Yesterday I was talking to Megan, the Google personal trainer that I go to. In a Samantha-esque move, Megan saw a VIP preview of the movie three days before it opened.

Megan: "I identified with Samantha so much. When you see the movie, you'll know what I mean."

Me: "Tell me a line from the part you're thinking of, so I'll know when I get to it."

Megan: "At one point, she says to a guy, 'I love you, but I love me more.'"

Me: "Wait. You actually said those words last month."

Megan: "I know."

Photo from a party last year, when Megan spent 45 minutes telling me about getting a colonic:


The world needs more people like Samantha and Megan. They are cheerful. They clearly articulate their needs. They're fun to be around. How can we make this happen?

Megan should write a book "How to be Like Me". I wouldn't buy it, but I'd encourage other people to.

the Italian Way

Recently I take umbrage at the Chinese tradition of overly polite offers.

Let's consider an example. I'm visiting a Chinese friend, and dinnertime rolls around.

Friend: "I'm going to start cooking dinner. Would you like to stay and eat with me?"

Me: "That's very kind, but I should really get going."

What conclusions would you draw from this?

A. My friend wants to invite me for dinner.
B. I am busy and do not wish to eat dinner with my friend.
C. Both A and B.
D. Neither A nor B.

In the traditional Chinese world, the answer is D. No information whatsoever was communicated in this exchange. All the words we uttered? Meaningless.

If the host really wants me to stay, he must repeat his invitation another two to five times. If I really want to leave, I must deny those subsequent invitations. What if I actually did want to stay for dinner? I still must reply no at least the first two times to be polite, and then I can change to "if it's not too inconvenient".

This is so inefficient.

There are cases where the guest accepts the invitation, but the host didn't actually want him to stay. I've heard of hosts disabling their stove so that it appears non-functional. "I was really looking forward to cooking for you," they say to their guest, "but my stove seems to have broken." After the guest leaves, the host reconnects the stove and cooks their own dinner.

Another effect is that when I say what I truly mean, it gets warped in the ears of the listener. Let's say my friend Ping asks to stay at my house while visiting the Bay Area. I would like to host him for a weekend, but no more. If I actually say that, he will interpret it as a blanket no. He will say nothing at the time, but will complain about it once a year for the next 35 years. (This will the subject for a future blog post concerning "Statute of Limitations if the Complainer Said Nothing When the Deed Went Down".)

So I must actually construct a convoluted tale about how I'd love to host him for as long as possible, but I have an event on the subsequent Monday that may necessitate using my entire house. Then he applies the appropriate filters to get back my original messaging.

A meta-issue is that when I don't abide by this rule, the typical response I get is "Wow, you're really Americanized." This is delivered in the same tone of voice and expression of disgust as if the person were saying, "Wow, you're really covered in menstrual blood."

So then I have a choice. Either I admit that I have forgotten my roots and lost my heritage and can't wait to dye my hair blonde and eat a dozen cheeseburgers, or I have to agree to the script.

Recently I was told that the Italian expectation is that both parties will be straightforward. If the host doesn't want the guest to stay, he'll just say so. In fact, if he does invite his guest, and he changes his mind later, he's not allowed to complain by societal convention.

Henceforth I am adopting the Italian way in this regard.

When Chinese people say "Wow, so that's what people turn into if they grow up in America," I will say, "NO! This is the Italian way."

Then I will pull out my Italian Rosetta Stone and say, "Il bambino corre."

if you don't think this is funny, the problem lies with you

Last Friday, I ate at Santana Row with some non-Googlers and my coworker Alipé.

At one point, Alipé and I were talking amongst ourselves, about whether a ping pong table would fit into a particular Google building.

Me: "Couldn't the table go upstairs?"

Alipé : "That area's pretty crowded. It's where they work on Generic Product." (He's referring to a confidential product that hasn't been released.)

Me: "Alipé, don't talk about that here. You don't want to be the one to leak Generic Product!"

Alipé: "Loose lips stop ships."

earthquake

My parents have been telling me about the earthquake in Sichuan.

My mother told a story about a teacher who grabbed the nearest four students when the earthquake began. He stuffed them under his lectern, and covered it with his own body. He was crushed by falling debris, as were all the other students in the classroom, but the four children under the lectern lived.

My dad told me about a group of hourly workers. After hearing about the earthquake damage, they loaded up bike carts with blankets, food, and water. They biked for many hours into the earthquake region, and dispersed their much-needed supplies. They didn't have much money themselves, and were sorely feeling the bridge and road tolls extracted on the way over.

(Example of a bike cart below)


Quite a number of people have donated impressive amounts of money. This earthquake has revealed a lot of heroes.