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.
Wednesday, May 31, 2006
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?
ice cream
On tour bus from Akasa Lake to Tokyo.
Mom: [to me] Why is it that you didn't buy any ice cream today?
Dad: You must be out of money. Are you?
Me: Well, yes, I can't find a Japanese ATM that accepts American cards. But that's not the reason.
Dad: [scoffing]
Me: Is it that unusual that I didn't buy ice cream today?
Both parents: [in unison] Yes.
Me: Fine, then wasn't yesterday unusual too, in that I ate only ONE ice cream?
Mom: [to me] Why is it that you didn't buy any ice cream today?
Dad: You must be out of money. Are you?
Me: Well, yes, I can't find a Japanese ATM that accepts American cards. But that's not the reason.
Dad: [scoffing]
Me: Is it that unusual that I didn't buy ice cream today?
Both parents: [in unison] Yes.
Me: Fine, then wasn't yesterday unusual too, in that I ate only ONE ice cream?
Giant Buddha
Tour guide: "This Buddha was built 1000 years ago. Over the centuries, it has endured a number of natural disasters, since Japan is prone to earthquakes. It has been burned down and rebuilt 4 times. This statue is made of bronze and stands 11 meters tall. People come to visit it from all over the world for blessings, often for help in passing exams."
My dad: [walking around the Buddha, then quietly to me] "This Buddha was burned down 4 times. This stupid of a Buddha cannot even protect itself; how can it protect anyone else?"
Pointless Q & A
On this Japan trip with my family, I discovered a trait about my dad: he can answer any question. The answer may not be right, but it'll be self-consistent and sound highly reasonable. For example, waiting for our tour shuttle outside the airport:
Me: I read in my tourbook that there are now over 10,000 Japanese people over age 100. Why do you suppose they live for so long in this country?
Dad: It's cold in the northern parts of Japan.
Me: So?
Dad: It's like food. If you freeze it, it doesn't go bad as easily.
I also discovered a trait about myself: I really like getting answers to questions, even if the answer and/or the question is entirely pointless. I love it so much that sometimes I end up angering other people who don't share this trait. The most memorable backfiring occurred 4 years ago, when I still worked at Microsoft:
Adam (coworker on Flight Simulator): [eating sandwich] Oh, this is better than the pizza I had last night.
Me: How come the pizza was bad?
Adam: It was cold.
Me: Why didn't you microwave it?
Adam: I did. The edges were warm, but the middle was still cold.
Me: Why didn't you take it out, eat the edges, and then put the middle back into the microwave?
Adam: I -- Because -- Where the fuck do you get these questions from?????
...
Tonight I discovered that a member of our tour group, a tall Chinese man in his mid to late 30s, also shares the trait. Tonight was "free time" for the group, so our guide showed us a few restaurants and shops and then set us loose. I went to a nearby department store and purchased 3 sets of false eyelashes, one with crystals, one with metallic glitter, and one with red and orange lashes.
Japan has far and away the best selection of false eyelashes I've ever seen. This is because Japanese girls are obsessed with making their eyes appear bigger. Walking down the street has been an eye-opening (ha ha) experience of witnessing all sorts of eyeliner tricks, gobby mascara, and insanely curled eyelashes.
Afterwards we went to the ramen shop voted the best out of the hundred in Tokyo. We ran into the tall Chinese man outside it.
Tall guy: Hey, look, it's you guys.
Me: Yeah, we're going in for ramen.
TG: I was here a couple hours ago with Cindy (tour guide) and a few others, and I ate two separate dishes of ramen!
Me: Ah, I see. ... [moments later, as pointless-question-trait overcame social inhibitions] So did you eat at the same speed as everyone else so that they had to wait for you during the second round, or did you eat twice as fast so that you finished at the same time?
TG: I could tell after the first bite whether the ramen was good. I ordered the second dish when I was halfway through the first dish, so it already arrived by the time I was done with the first one.
Me: Ahhh. [pause] So why did you wait to order it halfway through if you already knew after the first bite?
TG: [earnestly] They cook the ramen quickly, so if I ordered it after the first bite, it would get cold while I was eating the first bowl. So I timed it for when I was two-thirds of the way through the first bowl, so that the second bowl would arrive hot just as I finished the first.
Me: [extremely satisfied] That's excellent strategizing.
Me: I read in my tourbook that there are now over 10,000 Japanese people over age 100. Why do you suppose they live for so long in this country?
Dad: It's cold in the northern parts of Japan.
Me: So?
Dad: It's like food. If you freeze it, it doesn't go bad as easily.
I also discovered a trait about myself: I really like getting answers to questions, even if the answer and/or the question is entirely pointless. I love it so much that sometimes I end up angering other people who don't share this trait. The most memorable backfiring occurred 4 years ago, when I still worked at Microsoft:
Adam (coworker on Flight Simulator): [eating sandwich] Oh, this is better than the pizza I had last night.
Me: How come the pizza was bad?
Adam: It was cold.
Me: Why didn't you microwave it?
Adam: I did. The edges were warm, but the middle was still cold.
Me: Why didn't you take it out, eat the edges, and then put the middle back into the microwave?
Adam: I -- Because -- Where the fuck do you get these questions from?????
...
Tonight I discovered that a member of our tour group, a tall Chinese man in his mid to late 30s, also shares the trait. Tonight was "free time" for the group, so our guide showed us a few restaurants and shops and then set us loose. I went to a nearby department store and purchased 3 sets of false eyelashes, one with crystals, one with metallic glitter, and one with red and orange lashes.
Japan has far and away the best selection of false eyelashes I've ever seen. This is because Japanese girls are obsessed with making their eyes appear bigger. Walking down the street has been an eye-opening (ha ha) experience of witnessing all sorts of eyeliner tricks, gobby mascara, and insanely curled eyelashes.
Afterwards we went to the ramen shop voted the best out of the hundred in Tokyo. We ran into the tall Chinese man outside it.
Tall guy: Hey, look, it's you guys.
Me: Yeah, we're going in for ramen.
TG: I was here a couple hours ago with Cindy (tour guide) and a few others, and I ate two separate dishes of ramen!
Me: Ah, I see. ... [moments later, as pointless-question-trait overcame social inhibitions] So did you eat at the same speed as everyone else so that they had to wait for you during the second round, or did you eat twice as fast so that you finished at the same time?
TG: I could tell after the first bite whether the ramen was good. I ordered the second dish when I was halfway through the first dish, so it already arrived by the time I was done with the first one.
Me: Ahhh. [pause] So why did you wait to order it halfway through if you already knew after the first bite?
TG: [earnestly] They cook the ramen quickly, so if I ordered it after the first bite, it would get cold while I was eating the first bowl. So I timed it for when I was two-thirds of the way through the first bowl, so that the second bowl would arrive hot just as I finished the first.
Me: [extremely satisfied] That's excellent strategizing.
konichiwa from Japan
This post is coming straight at you from a cubicle in a very cushy Tokyo internet cafe. I'm sitting in a black leather chair in front of a flatscreen display, sipping free green tea. On the cubicle wall is a room service (cubicle service) menu of soba and fish-shaped cookies. (pic coming later)
Japan is endearing.
Yesterday our tour group stayed at a beachside hotel in Akao, cut into the face of a cliff. The lobby is on the 17th floor, and the bottom floor has two large mineral baths from natural hot springs.
It is customary to bathe in the mineral springs and then walk around the hotel clad in Japanese robe and slippers (random web pic below, real pic coming later). I of course relished it. If only Google would allow me to go to work like this!
The mineral springs are communal baths, separated by gender. Along the wall is a line of showers for bathers to wash themselves clean before entering the mineral bath. You must go in naked -- swimsuits are not allowed.
Many of my male readers are probably now imagining a stereotypical fantasy of nubile Japanese women wading into the mineral bath, beads of water glistening on their taut skin, as they send ripples in the bath that lap gently against each other's bodies.
Well, I'm here to tell you that this is exactly how it was.
(no pics coming later)
The hotel supplies a plethora of shampoos and soaps made of charcoal, oranges, and various vitamins. The recommended way of using the mineral bath is to wash off in the shower off to the side, submerge in the mineral bath for 2 minutes, come out and cool off, submerge for 5 minutes, cool off, then submerge for 7 minutes. I repeated this entire process 3 times during my overnight hotel stay. There was not much to do during the 9 washing / cooling periods except to test out all the shampoos, body washes, skin exfoliants, and pumices.
Today -- May 30, 2006 -- is the cleanest that my skin and hair have ever been.
Emerging from the mineral bath, I discovered that in my Japanese robe with my hair pinned up, I look quintessentially Japanese. It is so striking that when I went next door to my parents' hotel room, my dad turned to my mom and asked, "How did we end up giving birth to a Japanese daughter?"
This has an unfortunate effect that all the hotel staff confidently speak Japanese to me. The only Japanese I know is "arigato" (thank you), "hai!" (yes!) and "sayonara" (goodbye). The last one is pretty useless, so I end up just conforming the first two to use in every situation. I attempt to compensate by bowing deeply every other sentence.
Hotel staff: [in Japanese] Miss, do you prefer coffee or tea?
Me: Arigato. [bow deeply]
Hotel staff: [still in Japanese] Which one, miss?
Me: Hai.
This morning after my mineral bath, I decided to take the stairs from the first floor up to the 17th floor to go to breakfast, since there is no gym in the hotel. Just as I passed the 15th floor, the door on the next landing opened, and a pink uniformed hotel maid came in.
Me: [breathlessly clambering up the steps]
Hotel Maid: [long stream of Japanese]
Me: Hai. [continue climbing stairs]
I emerged onto the 17th floor to find that ... the breakfast room is actually on the second floor.
Japan is endearing.
Yesterday our tour group stayed at a beachside hotel in Akao, cut into the face of a cliff. The lobby is on the 17th floor, and the bottom floor has two large mineral baths from natural hot springs.
It is customary to bathe in the mineral springs and then walk around the hotel clad in Japanese robe and slippers (random web pic below, real pic coming later). I of course relished it. If only Google would allow me to go to work like this!
The mineral springs are communal baths, separated by gender. Along the wall is a line of showers for bathers to wash themselves clean before entering the mineral bath. You must go in naked -- swimsuits are not allowed.
Many of my male readers are probably now imagining a stereotypical fantasy of nubile Japanese women wading into the mineral bath, beads of water glistening on their taut skin, as they send ripples in the bath that lap gently against each other's bodies.
Well, I'm here to tell you that this is exactly how it was.
(no pics coming later)
The hotel supplies a plethora of shampoos and soaps made of charcoal, oranges, and various vitamins. The recommended way of using the mineral bath is to wash off in the shower off to the side, submerge in the mineral bath for 2 minutes, come out and cool off, submerge for 5 minutes, cool off, then submerge for 7 minutes. I repeated this entire process 3 times during my overnight hotel stay. There was not much to do during the 9 washing / cooling periods except to test out all the shampoos, body washes, skin exfoliants, and pumices.
Today -- May 30, 2006 -- is the cleanest that my skin and hair have ever been.
Emerging from the mineral bath, I discovered that in my Japanese robe with my hair pinned up, I look quintessentially Japanese. It is so striking that when I went next door to my parents' hotel room, my dad turned to my mom and asked, "How did we end up giving birth to a Japanese daughter?"
This has an unfortunate effect that all the hotel staff confidently speak Japanese to me. The only Japanese I know is "arigato" (thank you), "hai!" (yes!) and "sayonara" (goodbye). The last one is pretty useless, so I end up just conforming the first two to use in every situation. I attempt to compensate by bowing deeply every other sentence.
Hotel staff: [in Japanese] Miss, do you prefer coffee or tea?
Me: Arigato. [bow deeply]
Hotel staff: [still in Japanese] Which one, miss?
Me: Hai.
This morning after my mineral bath, I decided to take the stairs from the first floor up to the 17th floor to go to breakfast, since there is no gym in the hotel. Just as I passed the 15th floor, the door on the next landing opened, and a pink uniformed hotel maid came in.
Me: [breathlessly clambering up the steps]
Hotel Maid: [long stream of Japanese]
Me: Hai. [continue climbing stairs]
I emerged onto the 17th floor to find that ... the breakfast room is actually on the second floor.
Thursday, May 25, 2006
this one's for you, Dan
I just saw this T-shirt being sported by a Googler chatting on a cell phone in building 41.
Awesome.
Or should I say, brate.
Awesome.
Or should I say, brate.
Wired
Anna, a Google recruiter, was happy with the monster.com Q&A article that I did for her a while back (the writing skills developed from years of obsessive writing are finally benefiting me!). She featured me in a full-page ad for the June issue of Wired.
The original is here, but if you don't want to bother, the premise is: "Look at Niniane. She's not bad. In fact, she's brate. She works at Google. Shouldn't you?"
"brate" is a word that I made up 8 years ago, which means "better than great". You take that phrase and shorten it down into "brate". This can be used anywhere. Imagine a commercial for kitty food: "Katarina Kitty Chow. Because your kitty deserves better than great -- she deserves BRATE." Juliet: "Oh Romeo, my Romeo, be sworn my love and take all of myself, for thou art BRATE." Tony the Tiger: "It's not just great, it's BRAAATE!"
They got the # of patents wrong in the Wired ad though. I don't have 19 pending patents. I have 24.
Unfortunately I do not own a patent for the word "brate".
The original is here, but if you don't want to bother, the premise is: "Look at Niniane. She's not bad. In fact, she's brate. She works at Google. Shouldn't you?"
"brate" is a word that I made up 8 years ago, which means "better than great". You take that phrase and shorten it down into "brate". This can be used anywhere. Imagine a commercial for kitty food: "Katarina Kitty Chow. Because your kitty deserves better than great -- she deserves BRATE." Juliet: "Oh Romeo, my Romeo, be sworn my love and take all of myself, for thou art BRATE." Tony the Tiger: "It's not just great, it's BRAAATE!"
They got the # of patents wrong in the Wired ad though. I don't have 19 pending patents. I have 24.
Unfortunately I do not own a patent for the word "brate".
Tuesday, May 23, 2006
小日本 ("Little Japan")
Uncle: How could you let Tom study abroad in Japan??? Do you know how many Chinese people were killed by the Japanese during World War II?
Mom: Well, Stanford only has this travel abroad program with Japan and Germany...
Uncle: Why didn't you have him go to Germany? After World War II, they got down on their knees and apologized to the Chinese! They offered to make reparations, and they paid a bunch of money for rebuilding! The Japanese have never admitted to any wrongdoing!
Mom: Well...
Uncle: Everybody in China is avoiding Japan and Japanese products right now! Su Jun [editor's note: his son, i.e. Niniane's cousin] used to drive Japanese cars when he was living in the US, but now that he's in China, he paid an extra 27000 RMB ($3500US) so that he can drive a non-Japanese car!
...
The above conversation was relayed to me by my mom yesterday, to my amusement.
Me: [to mom] So what is my uncle going to say when he finds out we're going to Japan on vacation?
Mom: We can't tell him that we're going for fun. We can only say that we're going to visit your brother.
Mom: Well, Stanford only has this travel abroad program with Japan and Germany...
Uncle: Why didn't you have him go to Germany? After World War II, they got down on their knees and apologized to the Chinese! They offered to make reparations, and they paid a bunch of money for rebuilding! The Japanese have never admitted to any wrongdoing!
Mom: Well...
Uncle: Everybody in China is avoiding Japan and Japanese products right now! Su Jun [editor's note: his son, i.e. Niniane's cousin] used to drive Japanese cars when he was living in the US, but now that he's in China, he paid an extra 27000 RMB ($3500US) so that he can drive a non-Japanese car!
...
The above conversation was relayed to me by my mom yesterday, to my amusement.
Me: [to mom] So what is my uncle going to say when he finds out we're going to Japan on vacation?
Mom: We can't tell him that we're going for fun. We can only say that we're going to visit your brother.
Monday, May 22, 2006
AsiaSF
When jogging with DW last Tuesday, we were discussing places to take parents during their visits to the Bay Area.
DW: I'd like to take my parents to AsiaSF [famous transsexual bar], but not tell them beforehand that the waitresses are all men.
Me: You'd take your PARENTS to AsiaSF????
DW: Yeah, why not?
Me: [indignantly] Well, obviously because ... [pause to think] ... Well, the reason is ........ [long pause] ......... Hey, yeah, why not???
Ergo, this past Saturday:
Yes, that's a man to the right of my mom.
Also a man.
Man.
We were standing outside the restaurant for a while, watching people go in and out, and my mom asked, "How can you tell which ones are the women, and which are the men dressed as women?"
Sha-mayn answered, "The ones who aren't good-looking are the real women."
Women adore AsiaSF. The place was packed with birthdays and bachelorette parties. Women love a nice scene where extraordinarily hot women dance on the bar without being sexualized. The male customers aren't (for the most part) objectifying and salivating over the waitresses at AsiaSF.
Plus, even though the waitresses are ten times hotter, the customers can still feel reassured that they have something the waitresses don't.
One of the waitresses looked just like Janet Jackson, and another danced like a rock star, complete with jumping up and landing on one knee, and crawling seductively along the bar. Wow.
The waitress for our table danced to the song, "I Don't Want To Miss A Thing" while holding a picture frame under a cloth. At the end, she unveiled it to show ... a picture of George W Bush!
The table next to us shouted, "Nice Bush!"
DW: I'd like to take my parents to AsiaSF [famous transsexual bar], but not tell them beforehand that the waitresses are all men.
Me: You'd take your PARENTS to AsiaSF????
DW: Yeah, why not?
Me: [indignantly] Well, obviously because ... [pause to think] ... Well, the reason is ........ [long pause] ......... Hey, yeah, why not???
Ergo, this past Saturday:
Yes, that's a man to the right of my mom.
Also a man.
Man.
We were standing outside the restaurant for a while, watching people go in and out, and my mom asked, "How can you tell which ones are the women, and which are the men dressed as women?"
Sha-mayn answered, "The ones who aren't good-looking are the real women."
Women adore AsiaSF. The place was packed with birthdays and bachelorette parties. Women love a nice scene where extraordinarily hot women dance on the bar without being sexualized. The male customers aren't (for the most part) objectifying and salivating over the waitresses at AsiaSF.
Plus, even though the waitresses are ten times hotter, the customers can still feel reassured that they have something the waitresses don't.
One of the waitresses looked just like Janet Jackson, and another danced like a rock star, complete with jumping up and landing on one knee, and crawling seductively along the bar. Wow.
The waitress for our table danced to the song, "I Don't Want To Miss A Thing" while holding a picture frame under a cloth. At the end, she unveiled it to show ... a picture of George W Bush!
The table next to us shouted, "Nice Bush!"
O for Opinion
When I was in third grade, we did an exercise to learn about Fact vs. Opinion. We went down a list of sentences, marking them as F (Fact) or O (Opinion). e.g.
"Newspapers report fact," said Ms. Little, my rotund 3rd grade teacher. "Not opinion."
In the past few months, I repeatedly find myself staring wide-mouthed at the screen at the latest opinion-based article. Just to take a random sample of articles I read in the past 10 minutes: NY Times:
InformationWeek:
F -- The USA has 50 states.
O -- California is the best of the 50.
"Newspapers report fact," said Ms. Little, my rotund 3rd grade teacher. "Not opinion."
In the past few months, I repeatedly find myself staring wide-mouthed at the screen at the latest opinion-based article. Just to take a random sample of articles I read in the past 10 minutes: NY Times:
The stolen data do not include any health records or financial information, the agency said.
But it was immediately clear from the sheer numbers involved, as well as the tone of the announcement and the steps taken in the aftermath of the theft, that the breach was deeply embarrassing to the agency.
InformationWeek:
Along with the bogus browser, the worm makes the PC blare out screeching music thick with bad guitar licks and drum solos. The headache-inducing noise plays every time the computer boots or Safety Browser launches.
Wednesday, May 17, 2006
Why the Brits are Cooler Than Us
("Us" in this case being Americans, not the Chinese.)
If I ask an American to do something:
Me: Can you fix this memory leak?
Finn: Yeah.
Me: I'll assign the bug to you then.
Finn: Okay.
That was all right, nothing to write home about. Now witness this same exchange with a Brit! Suddenly it's so much more interesting!
Me: Can you fix this memory leak?
Alipé: Could do.
Me: I'll assign the bug to you then.
Alipé: Brilliant.
If I ask an American to do something:
Me: Can you fix this memory leak?
Finn: Yeah.
Me: I'll assign the bug to you then.
Finn: Okay.
That was all right, nothing to write home about. Now witness this same exchange with a Brit! Suddenly it's so much more interesting!
Me: Can you fix this memory leak?
Alipé: Could do.
Me: I'll assign the bug to you then.
Alipé: Brilliant.
Monday, May 15, 2006
resume tip 101
1. If you're going to submit a resume, spellcheck first!
2. If you do end up with a typo, try to make it a word other than the job you're going for ("enginerr") or the role you'll perform ("desig"). These examples are drawn from real life ... 5 minutes ago.
3. If you can't fulfill the above two, at least don't put under your Skills section:
2. If you do end up with a typo, try to make it a word other than the job you're going for ("enginerr") or the role you'll perform ("desig"). These examples are drawn from real life ... 5 minutes ago.
3. If you can't fulfill the above two, at least don't put under your Skills section:
Excellent written and oral communication skills in English.
The other 9 dishes at Chez TJ
Dan asked about the other 9 dishes from my Mother's Day dinner last night at Chez TJ. So here they are:
Hors d'Oeuvres (that goddamn phrase is the hardest thing to spell ever. Harder than "petekia", the word which lost me the state spelling bee in 8th grade):
Sashimi:
Onion-wrapped beef (note that's the name I gave to it -- the restaurant called it "Braised Oxtail and Foie Gras in a Crepinette of Grilled Teviso"):
Oyster and foie gras lasagna (I dislike oyster so this was a tarnished foie gras):
Turbot (i.e. fish):
Coconut sorbet:
Salad with lemon (the only course I didn't finish because it was too damn salty):
Tiny little grilled cheese sandwich. If you average out the prices, this 1 inch by 1 inch grilled cheese sandwich cost me 9 dollars:
Strawberries and a layered "pudding cookie". This was supposed to be a course of dark chocolate fondant but they ran out.
Hors d'Oeuvres (that goddamn phrase is the hardest thing to spell ever. Harder than "petekia", the word which lost me the state spelling bee in 8th grade):
Sashimi:
Onion-wrapped beef (note that's the name I gave to it -- the restaurant called it "Braised Oxtail and Foie Gras in a Crepinette of Grilled Teviso"):
Oyster and foie gras lasagna (I dislike oyster so this was a tarnished foie gras):
Turbot (i.e. fish):
Coconut sorbet:
Salad with lemon (the only course I didn't finish because it was too damn salty):
Tiny little grilled cheese sandwich. If you average out the prices, this 1 inch by 1 inch grilled cheese sandwich cost me 9 dollars:
Strawberries and a layered "pudding cookie". This was supposed to be a course of dark chocolate fondant but they ran out.
97
Two weeks ago, when I took my mom into SF to get her hair permed, we saw Scottony's 97-year-old customer. This woman is a little old chinese lady, who comes in every week to get her hair washed and styled. She doesn't wash it at home -- this is her only hair beauty ritual.
When I told my mom that this lady is 97 years old, my mom turned right around and stared at her. Then she went over as soon as the perming rods were taken out of her own hair, and grilled the poor lady:
"You're 97? How do you maintain such vigorous health? Do you have any problems with your hearing? Vision? Arthritis? No??? Wow, how do you do it?"
"I don't get mad," said the lady, who was reclining on the black leather chair with her hair back over the sink, as her hair was shampooed and massaged. The lather covered the top of her forehead as she calmly explained to us. "If other people get mad, I don't get mad back."
"How do you spend your time?" asked my mother.
"Mahjong."
Afterwards, my mom exclaimed to me for many minutes how inspired she felt. "That woman is 97! I thought I was already old! I've been feeling like I have maybe 15 years of good health left, before I'll be unable to do very much. When I went back to China last year, young people on the bus got up and let me have their seat. One time the conductor even yelled at a young couple to give up their seats for the elderly, and they turned and looked at me, and then the girl got up right away and let me sit down."
"That's preposterous," I said.
"Yeah, I was feeling that there wasn't much time to look forward to. But that woman is 97! Wow! And she's perfectly fine!" And then, as it occurred to her, "WHY DIDN'T WE TAKE A PICTURE TO REMEMBER???"
"Oh my God," I said, deciding where to start. "I really don't think she needs us taking a picture of her as though she's a freak for not having died yet. Especially while she's lying down with her hair full of shampoo."
"Oh."
And people thought MY picture-taking was excessive.
When I told my mom that this lady is 97 years old, my mom turned right around and stared at her. Then she went over as soon as the perming rods were taken out of her own hair, and grilled the poor lady:
"You're 97? How do you maintain such vigorous health? Do you have any problems with your hearing? Vision? Arthritis? No??? Wow, how do you do it?"
"I don't get mad," said the lady, who was reclining on the black leather chair with her hair back over the sink, as her hair was shampooed and massaged. The lather covered the top of her forehead as she calmly explained to us. "If other people get mad, I don't get mad back."
"How do you spend your time?" asked my mother.
"Mahjong."
Afterwards, my mom exclaimed to me for many minutes how inspired she felt. "That woman is 97! I thought I was already old! I've been feeling like I have maybe 15 years of good health left, before I'll be unable to do very much. When I went back to China last year, young people on the bus got up and let me have their seat. One time the conductor even yelled at a young couple to give up their seats for the elderly, and they turned and looked at me, and then the girl got up right away and let me sit down."
"That's preposterous," I said.
"Yeah, I was feeling that there wasn't much time to look forward to. But that woman is 97! Wow! And she's perfectly fine!" And then, as it occurred to her, "WHY DIDN'T WE TAKE A PICTURE TO REMEMBER???"
"Oh my God," I said, deciding where to start. "I really don't think she needs us taking a picture of her as though she's a freak for not having died yet. Especially while she's lying down with her hair full of shampoo."
"Oh."
And people thought MY picture-taking was excessive.
Sunday, May 14, 2006
Mother's Day
I took my mom to Chez TJ, to thank her for laboring to push me out into this world.
"This is a memory to keep forever," she said. "A 13-course French dinner. But there is no need to repeat this experience! It's too expensive -- once in this lifetime is enough!"
Asparagus arrangement:
Green garlic soup:
Beef tenderloin:
Stuffed kumquat:
and 9 unpictured courses.
"Your brother gave me my earliest Mother's Day wishes this year though," she said. "He did his typical confused thing. He emailed me from Japan, 'I'm writing to wish you a happy day today because it's Mother's Day!' But the email happened 7 days ago."
"This is a memory to keep forever," she said. "A 13-course French dinner. But there is no need to repeat this experience! It's too expensive -- once in this lifetime is enough!"
Asparagus arrangement:
Green garlic soup:
Beef tenderloin:
Stuffed kumquat:
and 9 unpictured courses.
"Your brother gave me my earliest Mother's Day wishes this year though," she said. "He did his typical confused thing. He emailed me from Japan, 'I'm writing to wish you a happy day today because it's Mother's Day!' But the email happened 7 days ago."
Friday, May 12, 2006
Frustration
It's week 3 of my mom's visit, and she's mainly been preoccupied with our home remodeling project, but sometimes distractions sneak in.
Mom: [walking into my bedroom] Wake up, wake up! Your stock has dropped to XXX! Do you want to sell it now?
Me: [groggily] Oh my God, I've asked you so many times to please not watch the stock like this.
Mom: But do you want to sell it?
Me: No. I don't want you to watch it minute by minute like this. You can't predict what it's going to do!
Mom: No, I can predict. If a piece of news comes out, it'll go up for a few hours and then start dropping. So I'll call you during that time when it goes up, and then you can sell.
Me: But it could go up another 50 dollars after that! Or what if the news is bad and it drops 50 dollars? It doesn't make sense to day trade like this!
Mom: I can refresh the browser every second and get the latest price.
Me: [banging head against wall]
Mom: I've watched your stock every day for months now. I'll just call you at the exact minute that it goes up.
Me: You know those quotes are 20 minutes delayed, right?
Mom: What??
Mom: [walking into my bedroom] Wake up, wake up! Your stock has dropped to XXX! Do you want to sell it now?
Me: [groggily] Oh my God, I've asked you so many times to please not watch the stock like this.
Mom: But do you want to sell it?
Me: No. I don't want you to watch it minute by minute like this. You can't predict what it's going to do!
Mom: No, I can predict. If a piece of news comes out, it'll go up for a few hours and then start dropping. So I'll call you during that time when it goes up, and then you can sell.
Me: But it could go up another 50 dollars after that! Or what if the news is bad and it drops 50 dollars? It doesn't make sense to day trade like this!
Mom: I can refresh the browser every second and get the latest price.
Me: [banging head against wall]
Mom: I've watched your stock every day for months now. I'll just call you at the exact minute that it goes up.
Me: You know those quotes are 20 minutes delayed, right?
Mom: What??
Tuesday, May 09, 2006
Arthurian tour
Last night I was making a list of countries I'd like to visit sometime in my life (Congo, Spain, Turkey). Making lists is one of my hobbies. It's because I'm a compulsive writer (to wit: this blog).
Just as I've thought about many times before, I mused on how unspeakably cool it would be to go on a tour centering about the legend of King Arthur: Camelot, Tintagel, Cornwall, Merlin's cave.
I am a huge fan of Arthurian legend. When I was 14, I was so obsessed with Arthurian legend that I read 25 fiction books about King Arthur, and then wrote a 63-page WordPerfect document comparing the points of legend between all the books. During the following summer, I decided to choose an American name because people were butchering my chinese name "xin". I named myself after Merlin's pupil Niniane from Mary Stewart's "The Last Enchantment".
Last night it suddenly occurred to me to google for "Arthurian tours". You might think that a Google employee would have enough wits to realize this option sooner. Well, you would be wrong.
The first one that I examined was In search of Arthur, Cornwall, and Devon. It is a 4-day tour, visiting the Round Table ruins, some thatched villages, Tintagel, the coast. A casual affair, which gave me worry that I'd freak them out by showing up. "Hi, I'm so glad to be on your Arthur tour! I named myself after an Arthurian character! I will be quoting from various Arthurian books throughout the next 4 days! But don't worry, I'm not a psycho!"
Then I came upon From Avalon to Camelot.
Okay, there is no way that I would freak these people out. Any freaking out would strictly be uni-directional, with me as the recipient. I'm a little scared of the druid ceremonies. I don't want to make any animal sacrifices or dress up as Queen of the Hunt or have my chakra unblocked, thank you very much. I prefer my blocked chakra the way it is. And don't bother telling me that chakras are from Hinduism and not druidism -- that's the kind of information that a person with an unblocked chakra would be open-minded to receiving, which as we've discussed, is not me.
I went on to read this line:
and I'm hooked. It's a done deal. I must go on this trip. I won't have time until 2007, but I'm going. It's now the third (out of three) items on my to-do list for life.
I sent them a gushing email, and then returned to the web page. I read the description of the guides and hosts, and nearly fainted from all the blood rushing to my head. See, the blood was so excited, it didn't know where to go. So it took the path less travelled and went upstream to the head.
I am pretty much maxed out on excitement right now. This would be like if John A. found a shisha-of-the-world tour.
Just as I've thought about many times before, I mused on how unspeakably cool it would be to go on a tour centering about the legend of King Arthur: Camelot, Tintagel, Cornwall, Merlin's cave.
I am a huge fan of Arthurian legend. When I was 14, I was so obsessed with Arthurian legend that I read 25 fiction books about King Arthur, and then wrote a 63-page WordPerfect document comparing the points of legend between all the books. During the following summer, I decided to choose an American name because people were butchering my chinese name "xin". I named myself after Merlin's pupil Niniane from Mary Stewart's "The Last Enchantment".
Last night it suddenly occurred to me to google for "Arthurian tours". You might think that a Google employee would have enough wits to realize this option sooner. Well, you would be wrong.
The first one that I examined was In search of Arthur, Cornwall, and Devon. It is a 4-day tour, visiting the Round Table ruins, some thatched villages, Tintagel, the coast. A casual affair, which gave me worry that I'd freak them out by showing up. "Hi, I'm so glad to be on your Arthur tour! I named myself after an Arthurian character! I will be quoting from various Arthurian books throughout the next 4 days! But don't worry, I'm not a psycho!"
Then I came upon From Avalon to Camelot.
Thence we travel to Trencrom Hill - the hill of angels - with its rocky holy well, and meet with Hamish Miller, the Laird of Trencrom, and his partner Ba, who guide us around their home lands. Hamish will teach us how to dowse with particular reference to earth energies and, with Ba, will share his home with us. ...
The following morning we arise and travel to Stonehenge (with special access) for a unique vigil to greet the sunrise within the temple of the stones. Here Bobcat will officiate in a Druid ceremony in which we can all participate.
Okay, there is no way that I would freak these people out. Any freaking out would strictly be uni-directional, with me as the recipient. I'm a little scared of the druid ceremonies. I don't want to make any animal sacrifices or dress up as Queen of the Hunt or have my chakra unblocked, thank you very much. I prefer my blocked chakra the way it is. And don't bother telling me that chakras are from Hinduism and not druidism -- that's the kind of information that a person with an unblocked chakra would be open-minded to receiving, which as we've discussed, is not me.
I went on to read this line:
Onwards to .. Merlin's cave full of magic and atmosphere, where dwells his spirit amidst the craggy rocks and roaring tides.
and I'm hooked. It's a done deal. I must go on this trip. I won't have time until 2007, but I'm going. It's now the third (out of three) items on my to-do list for life.
I sent them a gushing email, and then returned to the web page. I read the description of the guides and hosts, and nearly fainted from all the blood rushing to my head. See, the blood was so excited, it didn't know where to go. So it took the path less travelled and went upstream to the head.
Jamie George (Your Sacred Tours Leader and Guide) played a major part in the inspiration for the late Marion Zimmer Bradley to write her best selling novel The Mists of Avalon which is set in Glastonbury.
Geoffrey Ashe (host) is an internationally renowned Arthurian scholar and the author of many books including King Arthur's Avalon, The Quest for Arthur's Britain, The Ancient Wisdom and The Mythology of the British Isles. Geoffrey lives in Glastonbury and will join us at Glastonbury Abbey.
John Matthews (host) has written and compiled over sixty books on the Arthurian legends, traditional wisdom and Grail studies, as well as numerous short stories and a volume of poetry. John was a historical advisor in the movie King Arthur.
I am pretty much maxed out on excitement right now. This would be like if John A. found a shisha-of-the-world tour.
pear
I saw Peter in the gym tonight. Afterwards we exchanged a brief IM.
Peter: You looked really skinny.
Me: That's odd, I weigh the same.
Peter: Especially in the face.
Me: Maybe it's just shifting to the thighs.
Peter: More like a pear?
Me: Yes. Me before:
Me after:
Peter: You looked really skinny.
Me: That's odd, I weigh the same.
Peter: Especially in the face.
Me: Maybe it's just shifting to the thighs.
Peter: More like a pear?
Me: Yes. Me before:
Me after:
Sunday, May 07, 2006
Colbert link
Alipé sent me the link to Colbert ridiculing Bush in front of Bush.
If you haven't already watched it, YOU MUST.
If you haven't already watched it, YOU MUST.
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