D (Google China Blog's editor): Niniane, we miss your writing style. Can you write another article for us? After your last article encouraging female engineers, we got a lot of emails from readers specifically directed at you!
Me: [happily] Oh yeah, from female engineers who felt encouraged?
D: No. From guys who want your email address.
Me: gg.
...
I spent the "effort of nine oxen and two tigers" (chinese saying) and translated into chinese my article How to Write a Killer Resume, for Software Engineers.
It's the current article on Google China blog: Link.
Tuesday, June 13, 2006
Japan, little differences, part 2
1. Japanese people are petite.
This is the max capacity on our hotel elevator:
11 people, 750 kgs. Each person (male or female) is expected to weigh 150 pounds or less. In American it'd be more like 250 pounds.
2. Japanese girls like to make their legs look longer. Our Japanese tour guide, Cindy:
3. Japan still expects the woman to cook.
Tom took us to a very lovely restaurant, where we ordered 10 small dishes. The sukiyaki needed to be stirred.
Tom: [to our mom] Mom, can you stir this meat?
Mom: I'm taking a picture.
Tom: It's starting to burn.
Mom: [didn't hear, absentmindedly starts eating food]
Tom finally crankily stirs the meat.
After we leave the restaurant,
Tom: In Japan, the women are supposed to cook! If it doesn't fall to my mom, then it should go to my sister. Did you see how all the waitresses were staring at me?
This is the max capacity on our hotel elevator:
11 people, 750 kgs. Each person (male or female) is expected to weigh 150 pounds or less. In American it'd be more like 250 pounds.
2. Japanese girls like to make their legs look longer. Our Japanese tour guide, Cindy:
You'll often see high school girls in uniforms, with their skirts hitched up to here [motions halfway up her thigh]. Why do they do this? It's not because they're exhibitionist. It's because Japanese girls have short legs. Some people call them Turnip Legs. So if they hitch up the skirt, and wear tall platform shoes, then the legs look really long.
3. Japan still expects the woman to cook.
Tom took us to a very lovely restaurant, where we ordered 10 small dishes. The sukiyaki needed to be stirred.
Tom: [to our mom] Mom, can you stir this meat?
Mom: I'm taking a picture.
Tom: It's starting to burn.
Mom: [didn't hear, absentmindedly starts eating food]
Tom finally crankily stirs the meat.
After we leave the restaurant,
Tom: In Japan, the women are supposed to cook! If it doesn't fall to my mom, then it should go to my sister. Did you see how all the waitresses were staring at me?
One of my dreams has come true
When I was 7, my parents let me roam free during the day. I climbed in and out of neighbors' yards, happily trespassing. The two most exciting categories of discoveries at the time were:
1. a hole in a neighbor's chain link fence. I would immediately try to squeeze through it. The smaller the hole, the happier I was when I surmounted the challenge and entered the neighbor's exciting backyard!
2. mounds of objects heaped in the yard. A pile of unused tires provided me hours of happy entertainment. Hunks of rusty metal rods piled willy-nilly was a cherished landmark.
I want to give this flexibility to my own children, but I'll likely live in a cultured dangerous high-tech city (like Mountain View), as opposed to safe Salt Lake City and Las Cruces, New Mexico where I spent my pre-teen years.
All my adult life, I've been waiting for someone to invent the technology that would allow me to track my kids. I would gladly implant a RFID chip in their necks if I could then let them roam free, knowing that I could find them if I needed to. [Editor's note: Omar, I'm so glad you convinced me to re-enable comments on the same night I discuss implanting my kids with RFID chips.]
And now, tonight, Verizon has made my dream come true:
1. a hole in a neighbor's chain link fence. I would immediately try to squeeze through it. The smaller the hole, the happier I was when I surmounted the challenge and entered the neighbor's exciting backyard!
2. mounds of objects heaped in the yard. A pile of unused tires provided me hours of happy entertainment. Hunks of rusty metal rods piled willy-nilly was a cherished landmark.
I want to give this flexibility to my own children, but I'll likely live in a cultured dangerous high-tech city (like Mountain View), as opposed to safe Salt Lake City and Las Cruces, New Mexico where I spent my pre-teen years.
All my adult life, I've been waiting for someone to invent the technology that would allow me to track my kids. I would gladly implant a RFID chip in their necks if I could then let them roam free, knowing that I could find them if I needed to. [Editor's note: Omar, I'm so glad you convinced me to re-enable comments on the same night I discuss implanting my kids with RFID chips.]
And now, tonight, Verizon has made my dream come true:
Verizon Launches Child Locator Service
June 12, 2006, 1:49 PM
Verizon on Monday introduced a new service aimed at parents who wish to keep track of where their children are through their cell phones. Additionally, the service will give children a way to easily contact their parents.
The parent would be able to see where the phone is located from a map on the Verizon Web site.
Monday, June 12, 2006
Cracked
Tonight half my bathroom floor went missing.
My 2 bathroom granite countertops were installed shortly before we left for Japan, to my great delight.
And then ...
Both countertops developed wide cracks around the sink area.
The company sent a more experienced contractor Nat, who told us that the first contractor Dugsy put insufficient plywood underneath them. Nat would have to replace them.
While demolishing the downstairs countertop, Nat didn't cover my new marble tile floor with a protective cloth. Shards of demolished granite fell onto the floor. He then stepped on them, gouging little holes in 4 of my marble tiles.
While taking out the 4 to replace, Nat's assistant broke 4 more tiles and accidentally took out one that wasn't gouged.
The previous floor was a pattern of tiles that I carefully assembled to look artistic. Tomorrow they bring 20 tiles, and I'll pick 9 to put onto the floor.
At this rate, tomorrow I will return to find an impeccable countertop and marble floor surrounded by charred wooden posts where my walls used to be.
My 2 bathroom granite countertops were installed shortly before we left for Japan, to my great delight.
And then ...
Both countertops developed wide cracks around the sink area.
The company sent a more experienced contractor Nat, who told us that the first contractor Dugsy put insufficient plywood underneath them. Nat would have to replace them.
While demolishing the downstairs countertop, Nat didn't cover my new marble tile floor with a protective cloth. Shards of demolished granite fell onto the floor. He then stepped on them, gouging little holes in 4 of my marble tiles.
While taking out the 4 to replace, Nat's assistant broke 4 more tiles and accidentally took out one that wasn't gouged.
The previous floor was a pattern of tiles that I carefully assembled to look artistic. Tomorrow they bring 20 tiles, and I'll pick 9 to put onto the floor.
At this rate, tomorrow I will return to find an impeccable countertop and marble floor surrounded by charred wooden posts where my walls used to be.
Azkaban
“A stench of despair hangs over Guantanamo,” said Mark Denbeaux, a law professor at Seton Hall University in New Jersey. ... “Everyone is shutting down and quitting.”
Denbeaux said he was frightened by the depression he saw in one of the men when he visited the jail on June 2. His client, Mohammed Abdul Rahman, “is trying to kill himself” by participating in a hunger strike and was being fed by force, he said.
“He is normally a gentle, quiet, shy person,” Denbeaux said late Saturday. “He sat there in a subdued state that was almost inert. He was colossally depressed.”
Article.
It's Azkaban in our midst. Where's Dumbledore to lead us into the light? Hillary, are you our Dumbledore?
Asian alcohol intolerance
I'm going to stop drinking for the time being.
Friday night I had 1.5 drinks at a pub near my new San Fran crash pad. It was going to be just a single red tropical cocktail, but an hour later Kevin's friend asked me, "Another round?" I said, "Not for me, thanks," which he took to mean yes. He came back with another drink in the same shape glass, same pineapple garnish, but bright orange instead.
I didn't want it to go to waste, so I drank half of it.
Saturday night I had a sangria at dinner with Omar & Neha & Matthias.
Apparently the atrocity of drinking on two consecutive days was too much for my weak Asian alcohol-processing liver. It doesn't matter that I had only 1 or 1.5 drinks each night. My body has let me know that this kind of rampant behavior will NOT BE TOLERATED.
Today (Sunday), I woke up and laid unmoving in bed (or rather, my sleeping bag on the floor of my crash pad) for 30 minutes. Summoning the strength to get up to take a shower was a Herculean effort.
My payment for drinking isn't headaches or vomiting or weeping -- it's to become a hunk of unmoving iron for the next day.
I was riding the Muni on my way back to Mountain View this afternoon, and I caught a glimpse of my reflection against the window when we entered a tunnel. The dark circles under my eyes jumped out, to a degree that terrified the vain side of me.
Further alarming the vain part is the fact that I felt very bloated all day. Of course, I googled as to whether drinking makes you fat. Half the web pages say definitely! It increases cortisol which directs fat to your belly! The other half say absolutely not, and in fact makes you lose weight, because it increase metabolic rate and also decreases consumption of sugar.
The second one is probably not right, as I have the metabolic rate of a slug right now. (Sorry to all slugs.)
In any case, I'm going to avoid this situation for a while. It may lead to some interesting questioning, in modern American partying-equals-drinking society.
Friday night I had 1.5 drinks at a pub near my new San Fran crash pad. It was going to be just a single red tropical cocktail, but an hour later Kevin's friend asked me, "Another round?" I said, "Not for me, thanks," which he took to mean yes. He came back with another drink in the same shape glass, same pineapple garnish, but bright orange instead.
I didn't want it to go to waste, so I drank half of it.
Saturday night I had a sangria at dinner with Omar & Neha & Matthias.
Apparently the atrocity of drinking on two consecutive days was too much for my weak Asian alcohol-processing liver. It doesn't matter that I had only 1 or 1.5 drinks each night. My body has let me know that this kind of rampant behavior will NOT BE TOLERATED.
Today (Sunday), I woke up and laid unmoving in bed (or rather, my sleeping bag on the floor of my crash pad) for 30 minutes. Summoning the strength to get up to take a shower was a Herculean effort.
My payment for drinking isn't headaches or vomiting or weeping -- it's to become a hunk of unmoving iron for the next day.
I was riding the Muni on my way back to Mountain View this afternoon, and I caught a glimpse of my reflection against the window when we entered a tunnel. The dark circles under my eyes jumped out, to a degree that terrified the vain side of me.
Further alarming the vain part is the fact that I felt very bloated all day. Of course, I googled as to whether drinking makes you fat. Half the web pages say definitely! It increases cortisol which directs fat to your belly! The other half say absolutely not, and in fact makes you lose weight, because it increase metabolic rate and also decreases consumption of sugar.
The second one is probably not right, as I have the metabolic rate of a slug right now. (Sorry to all slugs.)
In any case, I'm going to avoid this situation for a while. It may lead to some interesting questioning, in modern American partying-equals-drinking society.
My weekend in photos
Asian Art Museum statuette of a Thai multi-armed Buddhist figure getting it on with a multi-armed Buddhist goddess in his lap (he's kissing her in this photo):
An awful, awful literary reading in the Mission. How many times can you get away with describing people as "blobs of bio-mass" before it stops being cute? My answer: Zero. The rest of the audience: apparently at least 20.
I did walk out with a bounce in my step and a smile on my cheek, because if that caliber of crap can get published, then I need not worry over my own writing dreams of getting my novel published!
Interesting art on the wall of a bar. 'Tis the weekend for seeing art.
House Party!
Haight Street Fair. I clutched a decaf chocolate cappucino and my Dell laptop, standing in high heels amongst a sea of Haight-Ashbury grunge and tie-dye. Oh how I stood out, and oh how the times have changed:
An awful, awful literary reading in the Mission. How many times can you get away with describing people as "blobs of bio-mass" before it stops being cute? My answer: Zero. The rest of the audience: apparently at least 20.
I did walk out with a bounce in my step and a smile on my cheek, because if that caliber of crap can get published, then I need not worry over my own writing dreams of getting my novel published!
Interesting art on the wall of a bar. 'Tis the weekend for seeing art.
House Party!
Haight Street Fair. I clutched a decaf chocolate cappucino and my Dell laptop, standing in high heels amongst a sea of Haight-Ashbury grunge and tie-dye. Oh how I stood out, and oh how the times have changed:
Sunday, June 11, 2006
Japan: the little differences
Vincent: It's the little differences. I mean they got the same shit over there that we got here, but it's just - it's just there it's a little different.
Jules: Examples?
Vincent: Alright, well you can walk into a movie theater in Amsterdam and buy a beer. And I don't mean just like in no paper cup, I'm talking about a glass of beer. And in Paris, you can buy a beer at McDonald's. And you know what they call a, uh, a Quarter Pounder with Cheese in Paris?
Jules: They don't call it a Quarter Pounder with Cheese?
Vincent: Nah, man, they got the metric system, they wouldn't know what the fuck a Quarter Pounder is.
Jules: What do they call it?
Vincent: They call it a "Royale with Cheese."
A Few Little Differences from Japan
1. Japanese women are obsessed with making their eyes look bigger. This has spawned an industry of mascara, fake eyelashes, eyeliner.
Apparently, Koreans share this -- look at their celebrities' before and post surgery pics.
A Japanese advertisement -- look at the model's eyelashes:
Here's where you can go to get fake eyelashes just like hers: the shu uemura lash bar!
2. Our tour guide Cindy told us about her 3 years working for a Japanese company. In Japan, you're expected to stay at work late. Even if you're done with your work, you sit at your desk, and look at the other people. You pretend to be busy, or you can even put your head on your desk and take a nap, as long as you don't leave. Eventually, late at night, you all go out in your suits, drinking.
This doesn't change after you have kids. Your kids fend for themselves while you work until 10pm and then drink until 1am. Then you're considered an upstanding citizen who works hard to support their family.
3. Japanese restaurants like to put fake food in front to show what you would get inside:
Our tour book had a section of town that specializes in making fake food, but that was the afternoon we ran out of money.
Coworker food humor, part 2
[Joby and Alipé return from ping pong. Joby brings back ice cream for everyone, even though it's 11pm and the cafe has been closed for 2 hours.]
Niniane: Where did you get this ice cream from?
Joby: I walked a hundred miles! ... From an ant's perspective.
Niniane: Why should the units be any different to an ant?
Alipé: A mile is measured in feet, Niniane. Ants have [holding up thumb and forefinger very close together] very little feet.
Niniane: Where did you get this ice cream from?
Joby: I walked a hundred miles! ... From an ant's perspective.
Niniane: Why should the units be any different to an ant?
Alipé: A mile is measured in feet, Niniane. Ants have [holding up thumb and forefinger very close together] very little feet.
Coworker food humor
[Discussing unusual foods that people eat.]
Alipé: I read that in Singapore they eat live monkeys' brains! They have a special table with a hole cut in the middle...
Odin: I'm sure that's an urban myth.
Alipé: No Odin, it's on the internet, so it must be true. Apparently it tastes like warm foam.
Odin: You certainly know a lot about this! Have you eaten monkey brains yourself?
Alipé: No Odin, I'm a vegetarian.
Odin: Well those monkeys are practically vegetables!
Alipé: I read that in Singapore they eat live monkeys' brains! They have a special table with a hole cut in the middle...
Odin: I'm sure that's an urban myth.
Alipé: No Odin, it's on the internet, so it must be true. Apparently it tastes like warm foam.
Odin: You certainly know a lot about this! Have you eaten monkey brains yourself?
Alipé: No Odin, I'm a vegetarian.
Odin: Well those monkeys are practically vegetables!
Thursday, June 08, 2006
cuteness from Japan
Monkey eating a Lay's potato chip:
Then the monkey checks out the # of calories. "There's HOW MUCH saturated fat in 1 serving???"
Two little Japanese schoolgirls in the subway who loudly shouted Mandarin at us between giggles, "Ni hao! Xie xie!":
At the Tokyo shrine, visitors purchased wooden placards on which they write their wishes. Example ones are, "Health for myself and my husband", "Peace and happiness for my family and the world." This is a little different:
Little tiny girl in perfectly matching dress, braids, high socks, small round shoes, carrying a straw hat. This one takes the cake:
Then the monkey checks out the # of calories. "There's HOW MUCH saturated fat in 1 serving???"
Two little Japanese schoolgirls in the subway who loudly shouted Mandarin at us between giggles, "Ni hao! Xie xie!":
At the Tokyo shrine, visitors purchased wooden placards on which they write their wishes. Example ones are, "Health for myself and my husband", "Peace and happiness for my family and the world." This is a little different:
Little tiny girl in perfectly matching dress, braids, high socks, small round shoes, carrying a straw hat. This one takes the cake:
Way to go, ABC News
ABC News article with a big typo right in the headline:
"Queen Latifah Annouces Women's Confidence Day" By BRITTNEY JOHNSON
Good message with an unfortunate delivery. Or perhaps the underlying message is, "I am someone with or without this spellchecker."
"Queen Latifah Annouces Women's Confidence Day" By BRITTNEY JOHNSON
"I am someone with or without this man. I am someone with or without this job, with or without these tight jeans. I am a strong woman. I can survive," Latifah said while explaining the importance of confidence in the lives of women.
Good message with an unfortunate delivery. Or perhaps the underlying message is, "I am someone with or without this spellchecker."
Sunday, June 04, 2006
perhaps love
I have a new Favorite Movie of All Time.
During the flight from Tokyo back to the US, I chanced upon the film "Perhaps Love" (如果*爱). It tells of a love triangle between an actress & actor who are ex-lovers, and the director who the actress is now dating.
When the movie was over, I sat in shock for an hour and a half in my airplane seat, thinking. Then I watched it again from beginning to end.
The music is riveting. The acting is spellbinding. It brings such joy to be in the hands of a true master.
The only 美中不足 (imperfection) is that the girl is so petite and babyfaced that without makeup, she looks like she's 13 years old. It was extremely disturbing to watch a scene of the hot, hot actor 金城武 (aka Takeshi Kaneshiro):
in an underwater kissing scene with what looked to be a 13-year-old girl:
Later, in one of the most poignant scenes in the movie, he convinces her to return together to their old haunts. She's wearing short hair and no makeup. He wraps his arms around her from behind, and narration plays about his long 10-year wait for her.
They both tear up. She turns and kisses him.
I would've been bawling right there in seat 62A, except that I was too busy RECOILING FROM WHAT LOOKS TO BE A GROWN MAN FRENCHING A THIRTEEN-YEAR-OLD BOY.
Regardless, this movie is my new favorite movie. The weirdly gorgeous hairpieces! The pining for a lost love until you despise them! The subtle dialogue! The beauty!!!!
During the flight from Tokyo back to the US, I chanced upon the film "Perhaps Love" (如果*爱). It tells of a love triangle between an actress & actor who are ex-lovers, and the director who the actress is now dating.
When the movie was over, I sat in shock for an hour and a half in my airplane seat, thinking. Then I watched it again from beginning to end.
The music is riveting. The acting is spellbinding. It brings such joy to be in the hands of a true master.
The only 美中不足 (imperfection) is that the girl is so petite and babyfaced that without makeup, she looks like she's 13 years old. It was extremely disturbing to watch a scene of the hot, hot actor 金城武 (aka Takeshi Kaneshiro):
in an underwater kissing scene with what looked to be a 13-year-old girl:
Later, in one of the most poignant scenes in the movie, he convinces her to return together to their old haunts. She's wearing short hair and no makeup. He wraps his arms around her from behind, and narration plays about his long 10-year wait for her.
They both tear up. She turns and kisses him.
I would've been bawling right there in seat 62A, except that I was too busy RECOILING FROM WHAT LOOKS TO BE A GROWN MAN FRENCHING A THIRTEEN-YEAR-OLD BOY.
Regardless, this movie is my new favorite movie. The weirdly gorgeous hairpieces! The pining for a lost love until you despise them! The subtle dialogue! The beauty!!!!
Saturday, June 03, 2006
that's some support
Walking down a shop-lined street in Kyoto.
Mom: [to me, cheerfully] The thing that makes me happiest in life is you and Tom. I support all of your dreams. If there is anything you feel passionate about doing, I will support you.
Me: Oh really? I actually just had a new desire around 4pm today. I was eating at that unagi shop when we split apart for the afternoon, and I was reflecting on how my life is too heavily weighted toward selfish things -- improving my knowledge and career, buying clothes and real estate. Even raising children in a few years is a selfish goal, because it's still about my small sphere. I want to start volunteering for a cause that I believe in.
Mom: I support you.
Me: Great! I gave some thought to the causes I identify with. Like maybe a big-sister little-sister program, or helping a shelter for battered women... In the end, I thought that since I'm really in favor of abortion, so in the end, I might donate time helping a non-profit lobby for abortion rights.
Mom: No, I think you should pick a different cause. Volunteering is fine, but don't pick abortion.
Me: Why not?
Mom: Because the anti-abortion people have a good point. They think it's ending a life, and ... even if they make it illegal, they'll still allow it in rare cases to save the life of a mother.
Me: [picking jaw off Kyoto sidewalk] What? How can you be a pro-lifer? You had 2 abortions!
Tom: [to me] Well, looks like you have your first challenger.
Mom: I only had one abortion. We'd just gotten to the States at the time, and your dad said we didn't have enough money. If I kept listening to him, we wouldn't even have your brother now!
Tom: Hmmm. When I think about it that way, Niniane, I'm against abortion too. [grinning] Can't help you with this one.
Me: [grumbling]
Tom: [to our mother] I have a dream in life too. I want to buy a Japanese World Cup soccer T-shirt, even though it's really expensive at 25 dollars.
Mom: [quickly] I support you.
Tom: Awesome! [to me] Thanks for making that easy for me.
Mom: [to me, cheerfully] The thing that makes me happiest in life is you and Tom. I support all of your dreams. If there is anything you feel passionate about doing, I will support you.
Me: Oh really? I actually just had a new desire around 4pm today. I was eating at that unagi shop when we split apart for the afternoon, and I was reflecting on how my life is too heavily weighted toward selfish things -- improving my knowledge and career, buying clothes and real estate. Even raising children in a few years is a selfish goal, because it's still about my small sphere. I want to start volunteering for a cause that I believe in.
Mom: I support you.
Me: Great! I gave some thought to the causes I identify with. Like maybe a big-sister little-sister program, or helping a shelter for battered women... In the end, I thought that since I'm really in favor of abortion, so in the end, I might donate time helping a non-profit lobby for abortion rights.
Mom: No, I think you should pick a different cause. Volunteering is fine, but don't pick abortion.
Me: Why not?
Mom: Because the anti-abortion people have a good point. They think it's ending a life, and ... even if they make it illegal, they'll still allow it in rare cases to save the life of a mother.
Me: [picking jaw off Kyoto sidewalk] What? How can you be a pro-lifer? You had 2 abortions!
Tom: [to me] Well, looks like you have your first challenger.
Mom: I only had one abortion. We'd just gotten to the States at the time, and your dad said we didn't have enough money. If I kept listening to him, we wouldn't even have your brother now!
Tom: Hmmm. When I think about it that way, Niniane, I'm against abortion too. [grinning] Can't help you with this one.
Me: [grumbling]
Tom: [to our mother] I have a dream in life too. I want to buy a Japanese World Cup soccer T-shirt, even though it's really expensive at 25 dollars.
Mom: [quickly] I support you.
Tom: Awesome! [to me] Thanks for making that easy for me.
Friday, June 02, 2006
50% of my Japanese vocabulary is wrong
At 5:30pm, we purchased octopus balls (not the balls of the octopus as I originally thought, but rather dough balls stuffed with octopus tentacle) and iced cocoa, and sat down to eat them.
Tom: [after seeing me pay for the cocoa] Niniane, never say "arigato" again. That's extremely rude.
Me: What? Isn't that the proper way to say "thank you"?
Tom: No, that's "arigato gozaimasu". "Arigato" is only used by a superior to a subordinate, or when you know someone extremely well. It's very rude to use it for strangers.
Me: [very sadly] Tom ... I've already used it 500 times this past week.
Tom: Well, service people won't show any unhappiness over it. Even if you cursed them as dogs, they wouldn't say anything back, because they treat the customer as God in Japan.
Me: But did I inadvertently hurt them in their hearts?
Tom: Most likely. They probably went home and cursed you.
Me:
Tom: [after seeing me pay for the cocoa] Niniane, never say "arigato" again. That's extremely rude.
Me: What? Isn't that the proper way to say "thank you"?
Tom: No, that's "arigato gozaimasu". "Arigato" is only used by a superior to a subordinate, or when you know someone extremely well. It's very rude to use it for strangers.
Me: [very sadly] Tom ... I've already used it 500 times this past week.
Tom: Well, service people won't show any unhappiness over it. Even if you cursed them as dogs, they wouldn't say anything back, because they treat the customer as God in Japan.
Me: But did I inadvertently hurt them in their hearts?
Tom: Most likely. They probably went home and cursed you.
Me:
Thursday, June 01, 2006
Makeover list
Several friends have said to me over the past couple of years, "I would like to get a makeover to look less geeky and more hot." I point them toward a magazine rack of Glamour and GQ, but in typical engineer fashion, they say, "Those are too time-consuming. Niniane, you must know what I should do. Please give me a list of steps to follow, in prioritized order."
Tonight I'm sitting at this ancient Pentium 4 in my central Kyoto hotel lobby, and I'm a little bummed after a long analytical conversation with Tom. So, to fight the melancholy, I'm going to indulge my list-making desires. I'm sure you, dear gentle reader, already know everything on the list, but perhaps it will bring you some amusement.
For Women
In order of importance:
Those are the most important steps! If you do this, you will be so hot! People will be unable to resist you! When you come to thank me for this list, I will be unable to resist you! Be warned!
For Men
Same list, except skip the eyebrow waxing. If you have a ponytail, cut it off unless you have fine straight pantene-commercial hair.
For clothing, only wear T-shirts if you have a really hot body. Guys with great bodies should wear nothing but T-shirts, to flaunt how their ripped chest and abs make a free Nvidia T-shirt look hot. Other guys can wear something interesting, like cargo pants or collared shirts or striped sweaters (please not all at once).
Tonight I'm sitting at this ancient Pentium 4 in my central Kyoto hotel lobby, and I'm a little bummed after a long analytical conversation with Tom. So, to fight the melancholy, I'm going to indulge my list-making desires. I'm sure you, dear gentle reader, already know everything on the list, but perhaps it will bring you some amusement.
For Women
In order of importance:
- Get a haircut. This is the most important step. Do not go to Supercuts. Go to a gay hairdresser who will wrinkle his eyebrows at your current hair, and then attack it with verve and with scissors. Look at this random web pic:
If you are in SF, go to Scottony ($35). If you are in Seattle, go to Gene Juarez and ask for a $30 stylist (a $70 stylist will just make your head into an artistic creation that you can't maintain). If you are in a different city, you're on your own. - Buy some form-fitting clothes. Stop buying size-12 clothes at Ross and then altering them to fit your size-4 body. Stop sewing your own clothes. Reconcile yourself with the fact that a hot skirt may cost you 80 dollars, which is 65 dollars more than a non-hot skirt.
If you are really skinny, go to bebe. If you are average-sized, Express. Otherwise, Ann Taylor. (The law of symmetry does not apply here -- if you shop at Ann Taylor, do not send me an irate email about how I'm calling you fat.) - Get your eyebrows waxed. Rarely will people notice explicitly -- you won't walk into work and have everyone's jaws drop at your newly coiffed eyebrows. But subconsciously people will gravitate toward your unquantifiable magnetism.
- If you wear glasses, switch to contacts or sexy glasses.
- If you have naturally perfect features like half of my friends, then you're done. Otherwise, find the most upscale mall around and call their Nordstrom MAC counter (the posher malls have better makeup artists). They'll do a little something like this for you:
and you will be so astounded when you see yourself in the mirror that you will buy $90 worth of eye shadow and lipstick.
Those are the most important steps! If you do this, you will be so hot! People will be unable to resist you! When you come to thank me for this list, I will be unable to resist you! Be warned!
For Men
Same list, except skip the eyebrow waxing. If you have a ponytail, cut it off unless you have fine straight pantene-commercial hair.
For clothing, only wear T-shirts if you have a really hot body. Guys with great bodies should wear nothing but T-shirts, to flaunt how their ripped chest and abs make a free Nvidia T-shirt look hot. Other guys can wear something interesting, like cargo pants or collared shirts or striped sweaters (please not all at once).
more anti-Japan
The longer I hang out with Chinese people visiting Japan, the more I find out about anti-Japan sentiment in China happening right now.
Tall Guy from Taiwan: You know Vicky Zhao, who played the sassy princess in the mini-series "还珠格格"?
Me: I vaguely remember seeing her on TV.
TG: Yeah, she did a modeling shoot where she wrapped a Japanese flag around herself and wore it on the runway. People were so pissed off that they threw ... [looks down at me eating ramen] rocks ... at her.
The next day, walking in a market.
Dad: By the way, it wasn't rocks that people threw. It was manure.
Me: Well, maybe she wore the flag unintentionally and wasn't trying to make a statement.
Dad: Of course it was unintentional! If it was intentional, she'd probably be killed by someone by now!
Me: ...
Dad: Also, Korea withdrew from the theatres all movies that star her.
Tall Guy from Taiwan: You know Vicky Zhao, who played the sassy princess in the mini-series "还珠格格"?
Me: I vaguely remember seeing her on TV.
TG: Yeah, she did a modeling shoot where she wrapped a Japanese flag around herself and wore it on the runway. People were so pissed off that they threw ... [looks down at me eating ramen] rocks ... at her.
The next day, walking in a market.
Dad: By the way, it wasn't rocks that people threw. It was manure.
Me: Well, maybe she wore the flag unintentionally and wasn't trying to make a statement.
Dad: Of course it was unintentional! If it was intentional, she'd probably be killed by someone by now!
Me: ...
Dad: Also, Korea withdrew from the theatres all movies that star her.
Wednesday, May 31, 2006
Penniless in Tokyo
In Pretty Woman, there's a scene where Julia Roberts goes to buy a dress with a couple hundred dollars of cash from Richard Gere, but the shops refuse to cater to her (in her case, because she was dressed like a streetwalker).
She walks back to the hotel and blubbers to the hotel concierge, "I have all this money! [pours fistful of wadded up bills onto his desk] But no dress! [blows nose loudly with his handkerchief]"
...
Yesterday I discovered that Tokyo, for all its ubiquitous mobile technology and neon signs and 300mph bullet trains, is missing an important service. ATMs that accept American cards. Beijing has them on every other street. Shanghai, ditto. Bangkok. Bangalore. But I walked a dozen Tokyo streets and went into fifteen banks. No luck.
I learned that the Japanese gesture of saying no is to cross your arms in front of your chest in an X shape. Like the Family Feud gesture of "I hope your family strikes out".
Me: [walking up to bank teller] [in English] Do you exchange money?
Teller: [puzzled expression]
Me: [pull out wad of US 20 dollar bills]
Teller: Ah! [happy look of understanding] No. No. [cross arms into X shape]
After 2 hours of trying various banks, we decide to forego the sumo museum that we were planning to visit, and just return to the hotel where we know there is a foreign currency exchange in the lobby.
Mom: How much Japanese money do we have left for our subway back to the hotel?
Me: I have 8 dollars worth in coins.
Mom: US dollars or Japanese yen? (1 USD = 108 yen)
Dad: Of course US! If it's 8 yen, you can dump it on the ground and no one will pick it up.
The 3 of us walk a few blocks to the subway station. Each subway ticket from where we were (Ryogoko, sumo district) to our hotel (Shinjuku, neon city)?
$2.60 US.
She walks back to the hotel and blubbers to the hotel concierge, "I have all this money! [pours fistful of wadded up bills onto his desk] But no dress! [blows nose loudly with his handkerchief]"
...
Yesterday I discovered that Tokyo, for all its ubiquitous mobile technology and neon signs and 300mph bullet trains, is missing an important service. ATMs that accept American cards. Beijing has them on every other street. Shanghai, ditto. Bangkok. Bangalore. But I walked a dozen Tokyo streets and went into fifteen banks. No luck.
I learned that the Japanese gesture of saying no is to cross your arms in front of your chest in an X shape. Like the Family Feud gesture of "I hope your family strikes out".
Me: [walking up to bank teller] [in English] Do you exchange money?
Teller: [puzzled expression]
Me: [pull out wad of US 20 dollar bills]
Teller: Ah! [happy look of understanding] No. No. [cross arms into X shape]
After 2 hours of trying various banks, we decide to forego the sumo museum that we were planning to visit, and just return to the hotel where we know there is a foreign currency exchange in the lobby.
Mom: How much Japanese money do we have left for our subway back to the hotel?
Me: I have 8 dollars worth in coins.
Mom: US dollars or Japanese yen? (1 USD = 108 yen)
Dad: Of course US! If it's 8 yen, you can dump it on the ground and no one will pick it up.
The 3 of us walk a few blocks to the subway station. Each subway ticket from where we were (Ryogoko, sumo district) to our hotel (Shinjuku, neon city)?
$2.60 US.
Monday, May 29, 2006
this made me extremely sad, and I can't get over it
While eating at the best ramen shop in Tokyo, we started up a conversation with the tall Chinese guy from our tour group. He is from Taiwan, and began asking my parents about the Cultural Revolution. I've heard the first part before, so was desensitized to it.
Tall Guy: How can you still stand the Communist Party after what happened in the Cultural Revolution?
Dad: It's past, done. The new government leaders came in afterwards, confessed all the mistakes, and made reparations.
TG: But what about the people who died? The ones who killed themselves from being tormented? Like the university professors who got dragged out of the schools and forced to wear a dunce cap and marched on the streets. The ones who suicided from the humiliation?
Dad: Well, if you kill yourself, there are no reparations. You have to endure.
TG: What about the ones who were sent to farms for manual labor, and died from illness?
Dad: Once you die, there are no reparations.
What was said next is what struck a soft but long-lasting jab to my heart.
TG: There are some things you can't recover. Nowadays, I see people getting so happy when they go overseas and find some ancient Chinese relic, bring it back as a "National Treasure". I think of all the relics that were burned, smashed during the Cultural Revolution. My grandmother, staying up all night with a fire, burning the old heirlooms. Large wooden chest [mimes opening a heavy hinged chest], taking out the ceramics inside, smashing them on the ground, in deathly fear that the Red Army was going to come and 抄家 (search the house). Ten years of the Red Army, burning, shattering relics. How many destroyed?
Tall Guy: How can you still stand the Communist Party after what happened in the Cultural Revolution?
Dad: It's past, done. The new government leaders came in afterwards, confessed all the mistakes, and made reparations.
TG: But what about the people who died? The ones who killed themselves from being tormented? Like the university professors who got dragged out of the schools and forced to wear a dunce cap and marched on the streets. The ones who suicided from the humiliation?
Dad: Well, if you kill yourself, there are no reparations. You have to endure.
TG: What about the ones who were sent to farms for manual labor, and died from illness?
Dad: Once you die, there are no reparations.
What was said next is what struck a soft but long-lasting jab to my heart.
TG: There are some things you can't recover. Nowadays, I see people getting so happy when they go overseas and find some ancient Chinese relic, bring it back as a "National Treasure". I think of all the relics that were burned, smashed during the Cultural Revolution. My grandmother, staying up all night with a fire, burning the old heirlooms. Large wooden chest [mimes opening a heavy hinged chest], taking out the ceramics inside, smashing them on the ground, in deathly fear that the Red Army was going to come and 抄家 (search the house). Ten years of the Red Army, burning, shattering relics. How many destroyed?
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