Returning from the exhausted hike over the weekend (I was so tired that I kept dozing off in our car ride. The traffic is not particularly good (um, the section around Sagakimoko is always, forever, eternal congested, 10K is normally taking about 1 hour to go through. This painful 10K is still 50K away from Shinjuku).
I finally made to home by 11pm, seriously exhausted, but I have to pack for the Hong Kong trip tomorrow. My brain was really not functioning very well, and I was pondering whether I should take a big back pack or 40 liter roller. For a 1 week trip, the big suitcase is really an overkill. I had to put my laptop bag into the suitcase to fill up the space, so that I only need to carry a handbag, which is not too bad.
While I was on the bus, I started to think about the horrile possiblity that someone might steal the computer (hey, who tells you to pack the valuable in check-in luggage?). I hasitly pull the laptop bag out before throwing my suitcase into the check-in weight scale.
Everything was uneventful until my laptop bag was stopped by the security guard, they are very polite asking if they can search through it and X-ray it again. I was curious but nothing alerted me yet until the security fished out the cutter from my pencil bag. Oh well, I kept a small cutter, which is handy to use in the office. Ok, I started to apologize. The security guy asked if he can run the bag through the X-ray again, sure, no problem, why should I be worried.
My spin chilled when he fished out my special edition swiss army knife, which is a gift from my uncle for my love of outdoor activity. Man, I was too tired that I didn't think much when throwing the army knife into my laptop bag and the bandage (that's used to tape my toes, for some reason, my toes screeze each other while I jog). My face turned ghost white because he was checking my boarding time. Shit, I would be interogated by the police and they are calculating if I am a real terrorist worth spending the time and money to make me miss my flight.
The policeman came, asking me why I brought the knife. I told him I need that to cut my nail and this is really an accident that I completely forgot about it is in my carry-on. (I remember a story of a young kid who was jokingly saying to the security that he has a bomb in his carry-on... he was arrested for that). I tried my best to look innocent, thankfully they let me go after noting down my name and passport number, I was at the gate just couple minutes after the boarding time.
Tuesday, August 31, 2010
Climb Every Mountain
Feeling really tired after the whole week of work and stress, I left the client site around 9pm. Although the new project is so close to my home, I cannot really relax because we are heading out to the mountain in 3 hours time.
Yes, it is another crazy hike. We left Tokyo by 1am in the morning and planed to hit the mountain trail by 5am to avoid the heat. I was really tired, that I crashed in the backseat the moment the car door slamed close. I cannot even be bothered to talk to Henry, the 7 year old boy, it turned out that both of us were sleeping like babies during the whole trip.
This hike is actually more interesting than Mount Fuji, we went through many different vegetation, from bamboo forest to needle leave pine, then to rocks. For the last 30 minutes, we even had to do a bit of rock climbing. The elevation is high enough (2500 m) that we were somehow away from the humidity and heat of Japanese summer for the whole ride.
This is what the last 30 minute hike looks like. Going up is a lot easier comparing to coming down...
Um, after the picture was taken, Yoshio, Tomomi and Yukiko and I all found a place to sit then dozing off... We were really too tired. If you come by to the mountain top, you would see us laying around on the volcanic rocky slabs in various position, sleeping and snoring. Man, how some people can function without proper hours of sleep is still beyond me. I am just half dead if not getting 8 hours of sleep every day.
After the hike, our whole body was reeking and sweaty, Yoshio has made the best planning, we are heading to the natural hotspring!
The onsen (hotspring) bath house is very intersting. It is obviously built by an amateur builder with cheap wood panels, not new at all. The owner has very interesting view of decoration, the western greeky statue about 40 cm high is pieced together with the Chinese style lucky lion in our outdoor bathtub. It is not too odd, I think the strange combination works just fine with the not-so-professional building style. And the best thing is, it is clean and the natural hotspring is so relaxing.
You can mix in the fresh cold water to the overheated bath, the cold water is also flown in from the nearby stream coiling down from the mountain. It looks and feels so pure and cool, um, I drank some of the untreated water, it is too tempting.
We ate soba after the onsen, um, very hungry.
Yes, it is another crazy hike. We left Tokyo by 1am in the morning and planed to hit the mountain trail by 5am to avoid the heat. I was really tired, that I crashed in the backseat the moment the car door slamed close. I cannot even be bothered to talk to Henry, the 7 year old boy, it turned out that both of us were sleeping like babies during the whole trip.
This hike is actually more interesting than Mount Fuji, we went through many different vegetation, from bamboo forest to needle leave pine, then to rocks. For the last 30 minutes, we even had to do a bit of rock climbing. The elevation is high enough (2500 m) that we were somehow away from the humidity and heat of Japanese summer for the whole ride.
This is what the last 30 minute hike looks like. Going up is a lot easier comparing to coming down...
Um, after the picture was taken, Yoshio, Tomomi and Yukiko and I all found a place to sit then dozing off... We were really too tired. If you come by to the mountain top, you would see us laying around on the volcanic rocky slabs in various position, sleeping and snoring. Man, how some people can function without proper hours of sleep is still beyond me. I am just half dead if not getting 8 hours of sleep every day.
After the hike, our whole body was reeking and sweaty, Yoshio has made the best planning, we are heading to the natural hotspring!
The onsen (hotspring) bath house is very intersting. It is obviously built by an amateur builder with cheap wood panels, not new at all. The owner has very interesting view of decoration, the western greeky statue about 40 cm high is pieced together with the Chinese style lucky lion in our outdoor bathtub. It is not too odd, I think the strange combination works just fine with the not-so-professional building style. And the best thing is, it is clean and the natural hotspring is so relaxing.
You can mix in the fresh cold water to the overheated bath, the cold water is also flown in from the nearby stream coiling down from the mountain. It looks and feels so pure and cool, um, I drank some of the untreated water, it is too tempting.
We ate soba after the onsen, um, very hungry.
Sunday, August 15, 2010
Tokyo Grilling
Going to the milk tea shop after our city run. The owner is not going to make any money, he gives out free cookies whenever pretty girls stopping by for a cup of ice tea.
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We are crazy bunch rollerblading under the heat. The city run is too relaxing, definitely not true workout (it is more like a social event). I need to wake up early to jog before the run...
Ocean Day (4)
Getting home to wash away all the dirt and sand, I was told we need to go to a friend's house that very evening in order to make the 3K swimming competition at 9am in Tateyama since there is no train available to move us from Tokyo to the beach early enough. I was bloody tired (I really need my 8 hour sleep a day to function properly). I packed my bag getting ready to go Tokyo station then my friend called again that he's found a train leaving Tokyo @5am would be able to move us to Tateyama by 8am.
Happily unpacking my bag, I set 2 alarms and fell deeply into my long awaited, much needed sleep. Waking up at 4am, getting on the train by 5am, we are ready to rock.
The Hojuo beach is actually very nice, the sky is blue and clear, as soon as we arrived, we were tugged into the registration desk. They drawed the registration number on my both arms with markers and we were asked to wear the transponder on the ankle for finishing time marking. The sun is strong and it was quite nice to jump into the cold water. All these 200 people are like pros, they paddled away like mad. The waves were so strong, it is so frustrating because no matter how hard I stroke, I felt that I am not moving forward at all. There are also fishes swimming 2 meters down, very distrating. They made the 3 floating buoys, distanced 500m from each other. It is so easy to get disoriented after the 2nd buoy, you are far away from the shore and especially very far behind from those pros, I am completely alone! I paddled in the wrong direction for a while, then the lifeguard (on surf board) had to came by and told me to swim in the right direction.
50minutes later, I finally finished the race, thankfully I didn't get picked up by the boat (if not able to complete the course within 1 hour). I won the last place in my age group! Um, the beer tasted very good afterward. I think this is the toughest weekend I ever had for a long while.
Happily unpacking my bag, I set 2 alarms and fell deeply into my long awaited, much needed sleep. Waking up at 4am, getting on the train by 5am, we are ready to rock.
The Hojuo beach is actually very nice, the sky is blue and clear, as soon as we arrived, we were tugged into the registration desk. They drawed the registration number on my both arms with markers and we were asked to wear the transponder on the ankle for finishing time marking. The sun is strong and it was quite nice to jump into the cold water. All these 200 people are like pros, they paddled away like mad. The waves were so strong, it is so frustrating because no matter how hard I stroke, I felt that I am not moving forward at all. There are also fishes swimming 2 meters down, very distrating. They made the 3 floating buoys, distanced 500m from each other. It is so easy to get disoriented after the 2nd buoy, you are far away from the shore and especially very far behind from those pros, I am completely alone! I paddled in the wrong direction for a while, then the lifeguard (on surf board) had to came by and told me to swim in the right direction.
50minutes later, I finally finished the race, thankfully I didn't get picked up by the boat (if not able to complete the course within 1 hour). I won the last place in my age group! Um, the beer tasted very good afterward. I think this is the toughest weekend I ever had for a long while.
Thursday, August 12, 2010
Ocean Day (3)
Coming out of the water, very tired but needed to run through the finish line such that the transponder on my ankle can register the time.
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Walking uphill is really not that difficult, but I am short of breath from time to time (no matter how hard I breath, I felt that I am not getting any air), feeling dizzy also. The high elevation of course is a factor but I believe my problem is more related to lack of sleep. I dozed off whenever we stopped, and felt much better after napping for 10 minutes (I was so tired that I sat down, holding my bag then passed out... Not even remember to eat the onigiri in my hand). The easiest path is actually paved by soft sand and pabbles, it is very hard to walk, that dissipated a lot of energy. To fight off the dizziness and short of breath, I walked slowly and breathed deeply. Terribly boring and hard.
Finally getting to the top of the mountain, where a bottle of water causes400 yen from the vending machine (we are still puzzled how the huge machine was put on the top). Japanese people are trying to keep Mount Fuji clean and eco, there is no modern establishment above 5th station. All the supply should be carried by human force. I guess we should not complain about the price.
We hurried down the hill after 15 minute break at the top, inspired by the thought of nicely cold Magareta. While others carefully select their foothold on the sandy path, 3 of us ran like crazy. I actually quite enjoyed the downhill run, it feels like skiing downhill. The soft ground works like snow, I carried the downward momentum, running pass people and leaved behind the sand dust. Ha ha ha... 2 hours later we are back to the 5th station. Yoshio thinks that is the record breaking speed (he hiked mount Fuji just a week ago, crazy guy came to the mountain again with us a week later).
4 hours later, we were sitting at the nice little Mexican pub drinking Magareta, and I am pondering about how I am going to move myself to Tateyama for my open water swimming tomorrow.
Sunday, July 25, 2010
Ocean Day (2)
Not sure what I was doing, I must be trying to cheer up my colleagues by doing some silly things.
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It was 30K away from the base station. The good thing is that our cab can go pass the queue for the parking lot, we set off the hike just slightly pass 4:30am. Sleeping 8 hours a day is vital to me, lacking of sleep is really the hardest bit of the whole hike. I was dozing off in every break we took. The high attitute is also difficult. The air is thin, I felt that, no matter how hard I breathed, I am not getting enough oxygen. After starting my running regime, I have not felt short of breath as much as this hike. I even felt dizzy and felt like to puke at some point. Man, I should have stayed home and slept... I was even thinking about quiting a number of times. But I guess I wanted to see how far I can go and before I know, I got through it alright.
The hike is actually very boring, it is like climbing stairs non-stop. All you need to do is keep walking, and walking up. The sun is high, the only good thing is the temperature is like 20C at such a elevation.
During the break, we ate and enjoyed the scenaries of Lakes Kawaguchiko and Yamanakako. We can even see a bit of the Tokyo bay, cities around the bay, perhaps Tokyo and Yokohama. Um, of course, Mount Fuji is the highest mountain in East Japan.
Ocean Day (1)
This must be somewhere after 6th station...
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It was really an accident that I had mount Fuji hike and open water swimming compeition in the same weekend. This long weekend is the ocean day, 海の日, in Japan (this day must have something to do with sushi). I was a bit worried beforehand thinking I might not be able to get through this long weekend. The plan is to leave Tokyo on Sunday morning just past midnight, go straight to the 5th base station of Mount Fuji and start the hike before 3am. The traffic was surprisingly light at 1am from Tokyo, it took us less than 2 hours to Mount Fuji. However, the queue to get to the parking lot at 5th base station is like 3 to 4 hours long. We were all very disappointed and almost wanted to give up (actually, I was secretly happy about giving up, at least I can go back home and have a good night sleep), we saw a taxi driving pass by.
My colleague quickly formulated the solution, we parked our car in some parking lot then call the taxi. We stopped by a 7-11 to stock up the food and water. At the same time, I thought, it might be not easy to find any available taxi at 3am in the mountain area. Regardless, we got the local taxi company's phone number from the nice 7-11 clerk and the only Japanese colleague ordered the cab over the phone.
As we were unpacking and packing the hiking gear outside of the convenient store, a Taxi driving by. I went jumping up and down, waving like mad and the taxi stopped. Using my broken Japanese to let the cabbie know that we need to go to the 5th station, um, while I was struggling, my Japanese colleague came to my rescue. Soon afterward, We were on the way to start our hike!
Sunday, July 11, 2010
MSN with My Dad
劍臣 says:
你哥叫我出去伯爵山莊下吃客家菜晚飯‧兩小孩皮到他夫婦無法吃飯、又打破碗、又撒一地、一個指東一個指西‧就和你們两小時一樣難搞
Joey says:
很忙啊
有吃白切雞嗎?
我也好想吃啊
今天晚上熬夜看冠軍爭霸戰嗎
劍臣 says:
哈哈哈！養兒育女世代傳都一樣、由他小孩煩回他、
有吃到白切鷄‧梅干扣肉‧山下金龍市場每天中午＋二點左右鷄肉攤位有折價白切鷄每盒一百賣五＋曾叔評價讚和萬華名店無差
Joey says:
好吃極了,等我回台北買來下酒吧
劍臣 says:
我先睡‧二點閙鐘响才起來看西班牙奪冠，我信章魚哥、拜湃
Um, my dad said that he is going to take a nap first, and wake up to see the world cup (he set the alarm). The most amusing bit is that he said he truely believe the octopus that Spain is going to win the champion.
你哥叫我出去伯爵山莊下吃客家菜晚飯‧兩小孩皮到他夫婦無法吃飯、又打破碗、又撒一地、一個指東一個指西‧就和你們两小時一樣難搞
Joey says:
很忙啊
有吃白切雞嗎?
我也好想吃啊
今天晚上熬夜看冠軍爭霸戰嗎
劍臣 says:
哈哈哈！養兒育女世代傳都一樣、由他小孩煩回他、
有吃到白切鷄‧梅干扣肉‧山下金龍市場每天中午＋二點左右鷄肉攤位有折價白切鷄每盒一百賣五＋曾叔評價讚和萬華名店無差
Joey says:
好吃極了,等我回台北買來下酒吧
劍臣 says:
我先睡‧二點閙鐘响才起來看西班牙奪冠，我信章魚哥、拜湃
Um, my dad said that he is going to take a nap first, and wake up to see the world cup (he set the alarm). The most amusing bit is that he said he truely believe the octopus that Spain is going to win the champion.
What is your hobby
Tokyo is officially getting into summer, I went for a 5K jog then dashed straight to our Sunday morning 12K rollerblading.
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Going to the sushi store in Tsukiji with Irene and her sister, in the shop, everyone (from the sushi chief to the wait staff) has to wear a nametag showing his/her name and hobby. One of the waitress has her hobby labeled as "Saving Money (儲金)".
Wednesday, June 02, 2010
Japanese Sword Fighting (2)
I begged Taro to let me participate their sword fighting training session on Sunday. In fact, he is very keen in getting people to join the club as young Japanese generation is slowly losing interest in this tradition. The problem is ... um.. quite embarrassing for the weak-nerve young Japanese kids, the problem is the SMELL! The protection gears cannot be washed, you can only wipe them or put them under the sun to control the smelly bacteria from growing too fast. The heavy-duty outfit cannot be machine washed, either. The traditional dye is not made of the best perfumy substance, it gives out irritable odor.
As for me, I don't care too much about it (sport is supposed to filled with sweat and danger), besides, I think the smell is not as bad as in underground subway station in New York City in the middle of July. What I don't quite like is the rigidness of order, ranking, manner, and respect. Sword fighting is not a sport for fun, it is rather a spiritual training to get yourself tougher (the idea is suprisingly fitting so well into Japanese culture). Thinking about the Chinese style of martial art, it is comparatively less formal, um, what do I know, all my knowledge of Chinese martial art are from the KungFu movies.
Nevertheless, it is an very interesting experience, you get to hit people (gear-protected) as hard as you can and yell as loud as you can at the same time. The only problem is that you are not allow to run, you have to slide across the wooden floor with grace.
As for me, I don't care too much about it (sport is supposed to filled with sweat and danger), besides, I think the smell is not as bad as in underground subway station in New York City in the middle of July. What I don't quite like is the rigidness of order, ranking, manner, and respect. Sword fighting is not a sport for fun, it is rather a spiritual training to get yourself tougher (the idea is suprisingly fitting so well into Japanese culture). Thinking about the Chinese style of martial art, it is comparatively less formal, um, what do I know, all my knowledge of Chinese martial art are from the KungFu movies.
Nevertheless, it is an very interesting experience, you get to hit people (gear-protected) as hard as you can and yell as loud as you can at the same time. The only problem is that you are not allow to run, you have to slide across the wooden floor with grace.
Monday, May 31, 2010
Japanese Sword Fighting (1)
Hanging out in a nice little pub in Shibuya with my colleagues. The basement restaurant specializing everything skewered. In Japanese crusine, skewers are so important to accompany drinking activities. Everything can be skewered, including minced chicken, entrails, chicken skin, scallops, veggies, or any combinations of the above. They can be grilled(chicken skewer - Yakitori), panfried (tepanyaki) or deep fried (Kushiage). The best of all is that they serve my favorite sake, otokoyama (man mountain) from Hokaido. It is clear and crispy. Not much annoying after taste, oh man, I miss it very much.
We started drinking and eating late (worked until 10pm on Friday evening... This Japanese project is really vaxing). I rode my bike over to Shibuya and it took me a while to find the little pub. My manager was so surprised that I have no idea of the famous department store Shibuya 109's whereabout, he had to gave up his nicely cold beer, came up to the street level and looked for me.
Anyhow, the food and drink were both good, we left the restaurant around 3am. Everyone was half drunk and wanted to ride my bicycle on the still-busy Shibuya street. Taro, my Japanese colleague, is the Japanese traditional sword fight master, who has practiced the art for more than 25 years. He insisted to show me the trick(I guess he wanted to lift up the rear wheel and keep balance with the front for a while). He fell over while breaking abruptly. With the rigid sword fight training, he cling on to the handle bars when he was flat on the floor.
We started drinking and eating late (worked until 10pm on Friday evening... This Japanese project is really vaxing). I rode my bike over to Shibuya and it took me a while to find the little pub. My manager was so surprised that I have no idea of the famous department store Shibuya 109's whereabout, he had to gave up his nicely cold beer, came up to the street level and looked for me.
Anyhow, the food and drink were both good, we left the restaurant around 3am. Everyone was half drunk and wanted to ride my bicycle on the still-busy Shibuya street. Taro, my Japanese colleague, is the Japanese traditional sword fight master, who has practiced the art for more than 25 years. He insisted to show me the trick(I guess he wanted to lift up the rear wheel and keep balance with the front for a while). He fell over while breaking abruptly. With the rigid sword fight training, he cling on to the handle bars when he was flat on the floor.
Sunday, May 23, 2010
A rope
In ancient China, the emperor sometimes sent a piece of yellow fabric to people, that mean, go kill yourself by hanging your neck with this piece of nice silk. I sometimes wonder why people at that time would submit to this absolute powerful and never thought about running away. I think the reason is that it would be an easier way to die without too much pain. Otherwise the emperor has the power to throw you into the boiling oil or slice you into thousand pieces (one of the most cruel punishment, the executor would be guilty if the person die before he finished cutting a thousand pieces of meat off). Cruelty is the way to mind-control the crowd, I guess.
Saturday, May 22, 2010
Cliente
I actually watched this film (French Gigolo) last year on the plane (very much like to explore non-hollywood films from countries other than USA), a coincident that it was still available on my way back to Tokyo from Taipei, I watched it again. Judith is a level-headed, charming and independent 50 something. She treats herself with young men once every so often by paying for the service. I have no issue of paying for sex, um... in my opinion, paying for sex is worse than no sex (cross my fingers, hope I will not think differently later on). Judith fell for the innocent Patrick, who really is not pro in this game. I am quite delighted by the openness about the sexual desire of women in their fifty (Judith's sister is an interesting contrast). The story was told in a very smooth way. You can feel the struggle of Judith's rational and lusty selves. Patrick can never be her real partner (background, social status, moneyness, age difference, level of sophistication, etc.), she tries to prolong the pleasure as much as she can. Of course, I think she enjoyed it because she really likes him.
About Patrick... I am not too sure. At certain level, he did like her, but he like her even more given the possibility he can escape the financial pressure (he did it to pay for his wife's beauty salon mortage)
I happened to stumble upon another Chinese writer's work with similar storyline. But this was written from the guy's perspective. At the beginning it looks as if the lady's made a great effort to liberate herself, but it turned out that she is the experienced buyer. The guy was badly hurt. Man, I wish the author could read what she wrote at the beginning before letting the story runs its course.
About Patrick... I am not too sure. At certain level, he did like her, but he like her even more given the possibility he can escape the financial pressure (he did it to pay for his wife's beauty salon mortage)
I happened to stumble upon another Chinese writer's work with similar storyline. But this was written from the guy's perspective. At the beginning it looks as if the lady's made a great effort to liberate herself, but it turned out that she is the experienced buyer. The guy was badly hurt. Man, I wish the author could read what she wrote at the beginning before letting the story runs its course.
Icelandic Volcano
Just to record the long journey and trauma last month when making my way from London to Amsterdam. Spending the week in London for some training, I had to go out almost every night after work to catch up with some friends. My manager in the Netherlands bank also threw me a going-away party on that very Saturday, everything was going according to plan until the volcano exploded.
Knowing my flight was likely to be cancelled, my manager sent me text message and email urged me to find the alternative to get myself back to European continet, I think he even mentioned swimming across the channel. Since air travel is impossible, the 2 possible ways are through the overnight ferry or by Europe star. Partying again on Friday night, I completely missed out the chance to move my body to Harwick, where to board the ferry before 11pm on Friday night. I woke up on Saturday morning with headache due to dehydration, thinking I should at least try to book a Europe star ticket to either Paris or Brussel.
Luckily I was able to find a seat to Brussel leaving around quarter to 11, I hastily packed up, get the car, running to Kingscross station. I thought it would be easy to get the fast train ticket once I am in Brusse without further research. Getting into the train, I felt much better, hey, not bad, Brussell is only 2 hour train ride away from Amsterdam.
When arriving in Brussel, I realised I had made a big mistake. The ticket service counter was packed with nervous and anxious travellers. There is no way to get anything without getting into the line. I had no internet access, no way of finding out what other options are but wait. I waited for 3 hours to get on the slowest, snail-like intercity train around 5pm, crawling across all the cities, big or small. I arrived in Amsterdam just quarter to 9pm, just on time for the party.
Knowing my flight was likely to be cancelled, my manager sent me text message and email urged me to find the alternative to get myself back to European continet, I think he even mentioned swimming across the channel. Since air travel is impossible, the 2 possible ways are through the overnight ferry or by Europe star. Partying again on Friday night, I completely missed out the chance to move my body to Harwick, where to board the ferry before 11pm on Friday night. I woke up on Saturday morning with headache due to dehydration, thinking I should at least try to book a Europe star ticket to either Paris or Brussel.
Luckily I was able to find a seat to Brussel leaving around quarter to 11, I hastily packed up, get the car, running to Kingscross station. I thought it would be easy to get the fast train ticket once I am in Brusse without further research. Getting into the train, I felt much better, hey, not bad, Brussell is only 2 hour train ride away from Amsterdam.
When arriving in Brussel, I realised I had made a big mistake. The ticket service counter was packed with nervous and anxious travellers. There is no way to get anything without getting into the line. I had no internet access, no way of finding out what other options are but wait. I waited for 3 hours to get on the slowest, snail-like intercity train around 5pm, crawling across all the cities, big or small. I arrived in Amsterdam just quarter to 9pm, just on time for the party.
Monday, May 17, 2010
Getting Big?
Returning from my brief vacation in Taipei, I was only disappointed that both Grace and my mom commented that I look bigger than before. The daily jog has made me feel very comfortable about eating whatever I feel like to eat, at any time. What I don't realise is that my body has managed to come back to the status quo that all my appetite has turned into the calories I burned during my run effectively and it has successfully got me to what I was before. I can run without shocking my body too much (no more join or muscle pain even if running for hours).
They said to me before I left for the airport, "hope you are not any bigger next time we see you".
They said to me before I left for the airport, "hope you are not any bigger next time we see you".
The Sculptress
First read of Minette Walters' work. The obese and ugly inmate might be in the prison for the crime she didn't commit. The writer vowed to get to the bottom of the mystery, and met the love of her life after a painful divoice (handsome and depressed ex-cop is attractive?). The seemingly innocent girl (hard to use this word to describe her, because she makes people fear her because of her size and ungliness) really killed her angel-like sister and mother? The author is trying to depict her as the super intellengent manipulative freak, who controlled the rythm of every meeting the innocent writer had with her.
The story has all the Hollywood movie elements, I am surprised it is not on the big screen yet. Easy read and quite entertaining (who would think the father's lover also sleep with the daughter?) But what makes me think more if why Minette spent such a long time to describe the unpleasantness of Olivia. That can easily build up the agreement among readers, oh yeah, the ugly obese girl is of course behaving the way she described.
Suppose pretty face people have less chance of dealing with the negative emotion caused by the being disliked or bullied?
The story has all the Hollywood movie elements, I am surprised it is not on the big screen yet. Easy read and quite entertaining (who would think the father's lover also sleep with the daughter?) But what makes me think more if why Minette spent such a long time to describe the unpleasantness of Olivia. That can easily build up the agreement among readers, oh yeah, the ugly obese girl is of course behaving the way she described.
Suppose pretty face people have less chance of dealing with the negative emotion caused by the being disliked or bullied?
Wednesday, May 12, 2010
La Saombra Del Viento - the shadow of the wind
The story telling technique is pretty good. But what attracts me is not the mystery of the writer Julian Carax but the small side line of the main character, Daniel Sempere's friend Fermin. He is almost like the clown in the whole story, being sheltered by Daniel and his father as a homeless, his history slowly unfolded. He was arrested and tortured during the Spanish civil war, yet no one really knew what he did to annoy the authority (though you didn't do much, but in that environment, everything can be used against you in the court of, um..., totalitarism). Though he still wet his pants when hearing the head police office name (that was his tormentor in the prison time), he is actually the most loveable character in the whole story. Not sure why I wasn't quite attracted to the young, pure and innocent Danienl, the puppy love between him and the blind girl was pretty interesting, and his later relationship with his best friend's sister was also quite intense. But somehow I feel that he is lacking something more powerful in his character, being very young of course if one of the reason.
Fermin is not the most wealthy nor intellegent, he is very certain about what type of woman he wants. After he met his godness, he still flirts with women of all ages (I guess he cannot change that, he was born with it), but his mind is set. He thinks love is about stepping out of your comfort zone, challenging the unknown. His godness gave him the reason to become a better human being more than yesterday, he wants to be good because of the thought of she is going to be so proud of him. Interesting character.
Fermin is not the most wealthy nor intellegent, he is very certain about what type of woman he wants. After he met his godness, he still flirts with women of all ages (I guess he cannot change that, he was born with it), but his mind is set. He thinks love is about stepping out of your comfort zone, challenging the unknown. His godness gave him the reason to become a better human being more than yesterday, he wants to be good because of the thought of she is going to be so proud of him. Interesting character.
Taiwanese wife in Nagoya
Emily's new born, 4 weeks old. Seeing the baby only made me realise how much maternal instinct I have, that is... none.
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Comparing to the supressed, reserve, conservative and meticulous neat Japanese, Taiwanese are sometimes understood as overly-friendly, easy-to-content and lacking of forethought and thoroughness.
Hanging out with Irene (my best friend married to a Japanese guy), I was always cracking up about the funny stories inspired by the culture shock. One time she was trying to make the Korean rice powder pancake, chichimi, from the package. The instruction saying that she should pour some flour into the mixture but there was none in the kitchen. She fiddled around the carboard and found the pancake mix. She thought, oh well, that is also flour so she poured in the pancake flour into the bowl. No one told her that the pancake mix has got the vanilla flavour and sugar mixed in, the result was revolting (please imagine pouring the soy sauce over your strawberry cake). She was so embarrassed, trying to stop her husband having the second helpings (I think he was eating it out of duty).
Over the golden week holidays, Irene went to the Pachinko Parlor with her husband. While her husband walked away looking for other machines, she was sitting in front of the machine by herself. The credit is running low but she had no other kind of entertainment but to continue her game. She pulled out the 5000 yen bill, and blindly stuff the money into the slot within her eyesight. In the noisy and smoke-filled space, she found out that her money was not crediting her game. It turned out that she had just funded the machine (and the guy) sitting to her right.
What's for Valentine's Day Present?
My cousin, Jen, has a very sweet boy friend. On Valentine's day, he gave her a hand-made (he made it himself) padding for her butts because she was falling a lot on the snowboarding trip a couple weeks ago.
Thursday, May 06, 2010
"Chi" flow
I was trying to feed the Doreamon some California red wine, and Harun came to rescue the poor animal.
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Coming back to Taipei for a brief 4 days to check on my parents in the Japanese golden week holidays, I went to the fixing bone (Chinese version of chiropratic) place to experience the bone fixing in Taipei with Irene.
Waiting in the lounge, I was the only one getting mosquito bites in the whole clinic (mosquitos love me for some reason). Fixing bone is very fun, the so-called doctor knows kung-fu, and he can feel what's wrong with your spine, the common problem is the crooked spine and so on. He will then push and turn and fold your body to make it straight again, too sad that I have no problen at atll (maybe the problem is in my head). He really folds your body like folding a piece of paper, you heard the sounds coming out from your joins everywhere. It is a very interesting experience...
One of the treatment is to put the vacuumed cups over your back to help the "chi" flow through better at the end. My back looks like a pepperoni pizza. The vaccuumed cups sucked out the flesh into the cups (it looks like I have 4 breasts on my back, ha ha ha ha), so the brusie is like big dark circles.
I think I have very high pain threshhold (falling 4 times over the bike on the snowy winter night last December causes bruises over my knees but not much pain though). Hearing the bond cracking sounds every where from the spine and joins, it hurt like hell that I almost wanted to ask the master if I can have something to bite into so to prevent myself from screaming like a little girl, ha ha ha.
After the fixing, we were told to drink a lot of water and warned about the possible muscle ache and join pain. However, I am feeling nothing of that sort. Perhaps I really do not need the bone fixing at all.
Sunday, March 28, 2010
ひょうてん (Freezing Point)
Fresh Hamachi sashimi in London, I cannot believe this is happening...
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ひょうてん (freezing point) is the novel of a female Japanese writer, 三浦綾子. As a part-time novelist and housewife, her work had won the highest honor in literature in Japan in 1964. I got the book from Old Ho, he got them over the special sales. Strangely this book was getting popular again because a couple of the website I frequent mentioned this book at the same time. The story reveals the subtle, supressed side of Japanese culture. I highly recommend it for anyone who would like to understand Japanese society.
The story started with a prestigeous doctor's family. The beautiful wife was tempted by a handsome young physician, who works for her husband. There was not real betray and cheating occurring but the innocent daughter of the doctor went out walking along the river by herself while the mother was meeting the young physician. The tragedy unfolded when the little girl went missing and found dead the next day. She was killed by a mentally ill man, wondering around the neighborhood. Devastated, the doctor got suspicious about the secret meeting between his wife and his colleague, he pieced things together and got to his own conclusion that his wife is unfaithful to him. Furious and sad, he decided to avenge his wife by adopting the murdurer's daughter after the mentally ill man committed suicide in the prison cell. The orphan was sent by one of his best schoolmates, who is running the orphanage and was pursuing his beautiful wife before the doctor won the battle.
As story developed, we came to realise that everyone has something to hide, something against the other(s). But no one dare to break the ice shaking the seemingly ok equilibrium. Everyone is trying to preserve the small piece of the dignity he/she thinks he/she deserves and no one yell at each other to bring things out. It is really unthinkable in my world, I cannot bear the thought just to keep these emotions hidden for these many years, perhaps people in the cold north (background as in Hokkaido)behaves very differently from the hot/humid/violent south.
Another question is infidelity. Though the beautiful wife never had any thing physical with the young doctor, she has drifted away from her regularity, she was tempted, she was preparing for an affair, is it considered a more serious crime than actually having it?
Sporting Week with Huen's Family (3)
The next day, Sandy and I set out to the sea in the east coast. The weather turned cold and it started to rain, we were not too sure about jumping into the water but decided to check out the condition regardless. As soon as we got out of the 12k long tunnel, the sky got brightened and there was no rain at all. Putting on the wetsuit, Sandy started to teach me skimboarding. The short and light board is thrown on to the shallow water (sometimes the sand), and you have to catch the board from behind and keep your balance. The goal is to ride the small waves breaking near the shore. Though the distance is very short, but this takes a lot of skills to balance.
The quite seaside had nobody else but 2 of us. It was a bit windy but we didn't feel the chill once getting on exercising. The board can slide very fast and falling over the board was... painful because the direct contact of the sand. Time had flown so quickly, and before we realised we were very hungry, it was already noon.
We finished our skimboarding by soaking ourselves in the communal bath nearby. The natural hotspring eased the sore knees and legs. But I still can get sand out of my ears 3 days after.
The quite seaside had nobody else but 2 of us. It was a bit windy but we didn't feel the chill once getting on exercising. The board can slide very fast and falling over the board was... painful because the direct contact of the sand. Time had flown so quickly, and before we realised we were very hungry, it was already noon.
We finished our skimboarding by soaking ourselves in the communal bath nearby. The natural hotspring eased the sore knees and legs. But I still can get sand out of my ears 3 days after.
Sporting Week with Huen's Family (2)
The next day I met up with Sandy for another workout session, although my back and arms were sore from the swing (not really good sign, meaning I am using my arm to drive the club). We planned to run for 5K then go swimming. Sandy didn't jog before, but her stamina is pretty good, we kept running and running. XiaoHo and Old Ho also joined us, but they are not serious runners. XiaoHo was in high spirit, I am pondering maybe we should train him to run as well.
The weather in Taipei was humid and warm, we ran for about 3K and decided to go for a walk with the crowd. Grace was already 1-finger dilated, still walking around with us. I was really worried if the baby would drop as she walked around. We checked out the ice skating ring, I am again thinking maybe we should train XiaoHo to do some speed skating... Maybe he will let Auntie Joey tag along to his skating practice when I get old.
Sandy and I went straight to the swimming pool, the first couple of labs were not really fun. Perhaps we have tired our leg muscles too much. But it got better and better. We finished our labs and went straight to the beer house. Maybe we should include biking so to make our workout the mini iron man next time.
The weather in Taipei was humid and warm, we ran for about 3K and decided to go for a walk with the crowd. Grace was already 1-finger dilated, still walking around with us. I was really worried if the baby would drop as she walked around. We checked out the ice skating ring, I am again thinking maybe we should train XiaoHo to do some speed skating... Maybe he will let Auntie Joey tag along to his skating practice when I get old.
Sandy and I went straight to the swimming pool, the first couple of labs were not really fun. Perhaps we have tired our leg muscles too much. But it got better and better. We finished our labs and went straight to the beer house. Maybe we should include biking so to make our workout the mini iron man next time.
Saturday, March 27, 2010
Sporting Week with Huen's Family (1)
I went to visit Auntie Feng in Taichung one Friday when I was in Taiwan, since she is departing to Malaysia the next day, we won't have chance to meet before I fly out to Tokyo and she return to Taiwan. I like to obsorb the positive energy from her, that's almost becoming addictive to hang out with her and listen to her life philosophy (such as be very nice to yourself, if you don't, nobody else would). She came pick me up from the bullet train station, thank god for the train service, it takes less than an hour from Taipei to Taichung. She didn't really have a Taiwanese driver's license but she drove around anyways (during Chinese New Year, she, uncle Thomas and Sandy drove all the way to Tainan for foods, of course, none of them have valid drivers license. They were stopped by police officer, checking drunking driving. Miraculously they went through alright). After lunch, we went straight to the driving range, where she kept brainwashing me how cool golfing is. I tried different iron clubs, trying hard to recall the little knowledge I had with the swing. Golf swing is very counter-intuitive motion, the more you want to kill it, the worse the outcome. I wasn't doing too badly, meanwhile, Auntie Feng was so excited talking about her coming tournament, the instructor, even a potential family trip to Hawaii just for golfing.
Grand Project and the Pigeon
I was working with my mom on a project since last Summer. The project is to move my dad into a separate apartment. It just seems impossible for my parents to live together at all, since my father is not decisive enough to change anything, my mom took the initiatives and vowed to make her life better.
My mother is a woman with determination. Her plans is rational and reasonable (I don’t remember when her plans weren’t that way since I was a kid). We got another flat in the same apartment complex, closed the deal at first week of 2010. Renovation was done the following week, it is ready to move in. At the same time, my mom rented another flat to move in. The side line of the grand project is to renovate our current flat. We cleaned out the flat for this super make over. Too sad that my vacation is not long enough to see to the move, I am much grateful that they have settled into their apartments alright and my dad will be invited for family dinners every weekend.
I wasn’t too sure about my dad’s life after the separation, really need to make sure things are ok with my own eyes. I flew back in early March to check on them. It turns out that he is pretty cool with the arrangement despite the fact that he wasn’t too happy of it originally (losing face perhaps). He is taking care of himself ok and he is extremely busy with friends gathering and so on. I barely had a chance to dine with him during my stay.
He's now having more freedom to let the pigeon walking around the house. Rumor says that he lets the pigeon live inside the closet, but he was laughingly explained to me that he just tried to hide the bird when XiaoHo and Old Ho (nick name of XiaoHo's dad) visited him for Chinese New Year. Pretty cool, I was bursting out laughing, oh yeah, that is really quite funny, as long as the same joking action is not done by my husband (sometimes I think my mom is lacking a bit of sense of humor, oh well, no one is perfect).
He was even telling me how he walked the dog together with the pigeon with a lot of pride (I figure he thought that's quite innovative and should be complimented). He took the bird into his pocket and took Ilang down for a walk from his 22nd floor flat.
The way my dad walk the dog is that he rides the motorcycle and Ilang sits in the footrest in front (Ilang hops on and off when the motorbike stops. But he is really too old to see clearly, sometimes he gets into the wrong motorcycle). The bird was standing in front of the steering panel that time, occasionally flying around but always came back. I laughed again, it is indeed quite funny. Who would think a pigeon from god-knows-where has become my dad's friend and keeps him accompany?
My mother is a woman with determination. Her plans is rational and reasonable (I don’t remember when her plans weren’t that way since I was a kid). We got another flat in the same apartment complex, closed the deal at first week of 2010. Renovation was done the following week, it is ready to move in. At the same time, my mom rented another flat to move in. The side line of the grand project is to renovate our current flat. We cleaned out the flat for this super make over. Too sad that my vacation is not long enough to see to the move, I am much grateful that they have settled into their apartments alright and my dad will be invited for family dinners every weekend.
I wasn’t too sure about my dad’s life after the separation, really need to make sure things are ok with my own eyes. I flew back in early March to check on them. It turns out that he is pretty cool with the arrangement despite the fact that he wasn’t too happy of it originally (losing face perhaps). He is taking care of himself ok and he is extremely busy with friends gathering and so on. I barely had a chance to dine with him during my stay.
He's now having more freedom to let the pigeon walking around the house. Rumor says that he lets the pigeon live inside the closet, but he was laughingly explained to me that he just tried to hide the bird when XiaoHo and Old Ho (nick name of XiaoHo's dad) visited him for Chinese New Year. Pretty cool, I was bursting out laughing, oh yeah, that is really quite funny, as long as the same joking action is not done by my husband (sometimes I think my mom is lacking a bit of sense of humor, oh well, no one is perfect).
He was even telling me how he walked the dog together with the pigeon with a lot of pride (I figure he thought that's quite innovative and should be complimented). He took the bird into his pocket and took Ilang down for a walk from his 22nd floor flat.
The way my dad walk the dog is that he rides the motorcycle and Ilang sits in the footrest in front (Ilang hops on and off when the motorbike stops. But he is really too old to see clearly, sometimes he gets into the wrong motorcycle). The bird was standing in front of the steering panel that time, occasionally flying around but always came back. I laughed again, it is indeed quite funny. Who would think a pigeon from god-knows-where has become my dad's friend and keeps him accompany?
Run, Run, Joey, Run!
I started my jog really by accident. The service apartment I live in Amstelveen has a gym on the ground floor, figuring it is not so good to stay in my flat, surfing the web and drinking, I decided to take advantage of the gym. I hated jogging because I cannot seem to handle the breathing well, panting all the way through (sometimes I feel my lungs are about to burst) is not my idea of fun. In addition, it is hard to find the right timing to do it. Before the meal you feel hungry, after the meal your stomach hurts.
I started to use the climbing machine in the gym, I can control the rhythm alright and get the cardio exercise done (heart beat can go to 184 per minute). The daily routine is very addictive until one day both of the climbing machines were out of order. I had no choice but to run on the treadmill, well, in fact, it wasn’t too bad at all. I found that I can breathe alright even if running at 10k/h for half an hour. After a couple of weeks on treadmills, I challenge the outdoor run.
Running on the treadmill is very different from running outdoor. I prefer the outdoor run, you feel the wind, see the scenary, knod to your fellow runners, calculate your next footing, it is a lot more fun than being a hamster. Once getting over the wall (the discomfort associated to running), my legs are just like a well-oiled machine, I kept thinking I can just run like this for another hour or so. Made the big mistake last weekend, I ran for too long and got really really hungry all of sudden. As if the power has shut down, it took me long time to make my way back to the apartment.
During the jog, you experience all kinds of pain and discomfort, leg muscles, ankles, and short of breath. However, the fun is positively correlated to the pain. I ran for 6 or 7 K this morning, now thinking about the pleasure, I guess I will go for another run tomorrow morning.
I started to use the climbing machine in the gym, I can control the rhythm alright and get the cardio exercise done (heart beat can go to 184 per minute). The daily routine is very addictive until one day both of the climbing machines were out of order. I had no choice but to run on the treadmill, well, in fact, it wasn’t too bad at all. I found that I can breathe alright even if running at 10k/h for half an hour. After a couple of weeks on treadmills, I challenge the outdoor run.
Running on the treadmill is very different from running outdoor. I prefer the outdoor run, you feel the wind, see the scenary, knod to your fellow runners, calculate your next footing, it is a lot more fun than being a hamster. Once getting over the wall (the discomfort associated to running), my legs are just like a well-oiled machine, I kept thinking I can just run like this for another hour or so. Made the big mistake last weekend, I ran for too long and got really really hungry all of sudden. As if the power has shut down, it took me long time to make my way back to the apartment.
During the jog, you experience all kinds of pain and discomfort, leg muscles, ankles, and short of breath. However, the fun is positively correlated to the pain. I ran for 6 or 7 K this morning, now thinking about the pleasure, I guess I will go for another run tomorrow morning.
Disaster (Small)
I am generally not a clumsy person, unless I pretend to be Sometimes I am giving people an image that I am too strong head, opinionate and sharp, my silly idea to soften this image by pretending clumsy. Oh well, it worked better when I was in my 20s. Nowadays, no matter what I do, people fear me.
But recently I have caused quite a few damage to my hands. One time I was playing pool with Jean-Louis, who is obviously not very experienced with pool, as I enjoyed the victory by giving a powerful direct shot, my right hand ran into the pool table rim. A piece of skin was flipped and blood ran. This took a while to heal, meanwhile, I can only shower and shampoo with my left hand while holding my right hand up high.
I love avocado, I always remove the seed by striking the knife into the seed (in the half open avocado), make sure the tip is secured, then twist the knife together with the seed. This way, we can get the perfect second half. I must be very unlucky that day, the knife skid from the slippery surface of the seed, and ran directly into my pawn that was holding the fruit.
But recently I have caused quite a few damage to my hands. One time I was playing pool with Jean-Louis, who is obviously not very experienced with pool, as I enjoyed the victory by giving a powerful direct shot, my right hand ran into the pool table rim. A piece of skin was flipped and blood ran. This took a while to heal, meanwhile, I can only shower and shampoo with my left hand while holding my right hand up high.
I love avocado, I always remove the seed by striking the knife into the seed (in the half open avocado), make sure the tip is secured, then twist the knife together with the seed. This way, we can get the perfect second half. I must be very unlucky that day, the knife skid from the slippery surface of the seed, and ran directly into my pawn that was holding the fruit.
Disaster (Midium)
It doesn't seem to be the best month to me. A number of small incidents occurred. Not as deadly as losing my beloved laptop (tears), but annoying enough.
My bicycle was not behaving to its best in this month, first of all, the fender in the back had broken into 2 pieces (I have really no foggist how this could happen), the bike is still rideable, but I had to be careful not to push my bike backward when getting out of the parking space and the noise is really irritating.
One night, I was on my way happily biking to the best steak house in the city to meet with my colleagues. Despite the light rain, my spirit was high because the steak is really really yummy (the restaurant carries foods that are solid honest and never pretentious). One of the bungee cord in the back fell and got tangled into the back wheel gears, no matter how hard I tried, I cannot pull it out. A man came to my rescue, but this is obviously hard to solve without proper tool. He ran home and returned with a pair of scissors, we cut off the portion of the cord that was visible, the bike seemed ok to ride. I thank him from the bottom of my heart (I hate to miss the steak), bid him farewell and continued my journey. Strangely, the back tire was flat after the incident. Driven by the steak dinner, I rode on, thinking there should be a way to find an air pump in the steak house.
Difficult ride it was, it was worthwhile. To my disappointment, the steak house staff had no air pump. Our team finished the dinner and they all walked me to pick up my bike. As I calculated my options since it is virtually impossible to ride another 30 minutes with this condition. My colleague, Bill, found there was a air pump strapped to the back of the bicycle just right next to mine. We borrowed the pump, quickly fixed my tire. Thank god I can ride back home with it again. A small luck after the disaster.
P.S. My bike started to behave strangely after that night, when the back wheel spins, it touches the frame at one point. I suspected the ride on flat tire has bent the wheel.
P.S.2 Duck tapes fix everything, I taped the broken fender, good as new!
My bicycle was not behaving to its best in this month, first of all, the fender in the back had broken into 2 pieces (I have really no foggist how this could happen), the bike is still rideable, but I had to be careful not to push my bike backward when getting out of the parking space and the noise is really irritating.
One night, I was on my way happily biking to the best steak house in the city to meet with my colleagues. Despite the light rain, my spirit was high because the steak is really really yummy (the restaurant carries foods that are solid honest and never pretentious). One of the bungee cord in the back fell and got tangled into the back wheel gears, no matter how hard I tried, I cannot pull it out. A man came to my rescue, but this is obviously hard to solve without proper tool. He ran home and returned with a pair of scissors, we cut off the portion of the cord that was visible, the bike seemed ok to ride. I thank him from the bottom of my heart (I hate to miss the steak), bid him farewell and continued my journey. Strangely, the back tire was flat after the incident. Driven by the steak dinner, I rode on, thinking there should be a way to find an air pump in the steak house.
Difficult ride it was, it was worthwhile. To my disappointment, the steak house staff had no air pump. Our team finished the dinner and they all walked me to pick up my bike. As I calculated my options since it is virtually impossible to ride another 30 minutes with this condition. My colleague, Bill, found there was a air pump strapped to the back of the bicycle just right next to mine. We borrowed the pump, quickly fixed my tire. Thank god I can ride back home with it again. A small luck after the disaster.
P.S. My bike started to behave strangely after that night, when the back wheel spins, it touches the frame at one point. I suspected the ride on flat tire has bent the wheel.
P.S.2 Duck tapes fix everything, I taped the broken fender, good as new!
Sunday, March 14, 2010
Disaster (Large)
I spent the whole Feburary in Amsterdam, just flew back to Tokyo on the 26th. The winter in Amsterdam is very unpredictable, the temperature dropped below freezing point, snow came at any minute. Freezing rain followed, sometimes fogs was so thick that you cannot see the building across the street.
I managed to bike to and fro work, but spent most of my time after work in the gym in my apartment. There is not point going out, IT IS FREEZING COLD everywhere you go. As my assignment comes to an end, my colleagues were all eager to grap the last chance to party with me (strange that they want to drink with this ill-tempered and not-really-socialable me, I guess that's because I bake cookies for them from time to time). Just before the Friday I am flying out, I agreed to go drinking with my team in a college bar nearby our office.
We played fool's ball (it is quite funny to see a couple of 2-meter guys tweaking the small machinary and got emotional when losing), pool and, of course, drinking the lethal Belgium beer, Le Chauffeur. As I made my way to the door, my manager called me and stuff me another glass of Westmaller. Ok, fine, I can have another drink. After that, I insisted to go, I wobbled to my bike, strapped my laptop in the back of the bike with the bungee cord as I alwasy did for the past 10 months and started my journey home.
Not until I got home then I realised that my computer was not where it is supposed to be. My spine was chilled, how could this happened? How am I going to live without a computer? How about all those personal data, bank information, stock shares records? Never mentions the work-related files, I have got a number of banks' customization , risk management system design documentation. I was nearly at the edge of breaking down, as a consultant, you are dead if you don't have your computer with you.
Cannot think too much, I turned around and traced the route I came from, hoping that we can trust Dutch people's integrity if the computer bag had fallen over my bike on my way home. I biked up and down the route for almost half an hour to no avail. I finally gave up and got back home, pulling out a sheet and writing down steps of damage control. It took me a couple of hours to really calm down, after all, it is as if I have lost my life for the past 2 and half years (not really like I have had life but ...). It is when you start to kick yourself really hard thinking what kind of idiot you are not backing up your hard drive on weekly basis.
Luckily I flew back to Tokyo in that vary weekend, I can have a spare laptop to use. Later I was informed that there were a couple of losing cell phones and laptops in the pub that night, I suspect the criminal must have followed me outside to my bike and pulled the computer bag (which just slipping through the elastic cord very easily) while I was riding away. Now I understand why Dutch people never strap anything in the back of bicycle except a case of beer.
I managed to bike to and fro work, but spent most of my time after work in the gym in my apartment. There is not point going out, IT IS FREEZING COLD everywhere you go. As my assignment comes to an end, my colleagues were all eager to grap the last chance to party with me (strange that they want to drink with this ill-tempered and not-really-socialable me, I guess that's because I bake cookies for them from time to time). Just before the Friday I am flying out, I agreed to go drinking with my team in a college bar nearby our office.
We played fool's ball (it is quite funny to see a couple of 2-meter guys tweaking the small machinary and got emotional when losing), pool and, of course, drinking the lethal Belgium beer, Le Chauffeur. As I made my way to the door, my manager called me and stuff me another glass of Westmaller. Ok, fine, I can have another drink. After that, I insisted to go, I wobbled to my bike, strapped my laptop in the back of the bike with the bungee cord as I alwasy did for the past 10 months and started my journey home.
Not until I got home then I realised that my computer was not where it is supposed to be. My spine was chilled, how could this happened? How am I going to live without a computer? How about all those personal data, bank information, stock shares records? Never mentions the work-related files, I have got a number of banks' customization , risk management system design documentation. I was nearly at the edge of breaking down, as a consultant, you are dead if you don't have your computer with you.
Cannot think too much, I turned around and traced the route I came from, hoping that we can trust Dutch people's integrity if the computer bag had fallen over my bike on my way home. I biked up and down the route for almost half an hour to no avail. I finally gave up and got back home, pulling out a sheet and writing down steps of damage control. It took me a couple of hours to really calm down, after all, it is as if I have lost my life for the past 2 and half years (not really like I have had life but ...). It is when you start to kick yourself really hard thinking what kind of idiot you are not backing up your hard drive on weekly basis.
Luckily I flew back to Tokyo in that vary weekend, I can have a spare laptop to use. Later I was informed that there were a couple of losing cell phones and laptops in the pub that night, I suspect the criminal must have followed me outside to my bike and pulled the computer bag (which just slipping through the elastic cord very easily) while I was riding away. Now I understand why Dutch people never strap anything in the back of bicycle except a case of beer.
Sunday, January 24, 2010
Working with Flour
The whole idea of making bread came from a reading, the crusty, stringy-yet-soft interior, chewy bread looked so easy to make in the youtube link, which was demonstrated by a famous baker in NYC. Never mind the temperature of fermentation, all you need to do is pour the ingredients into a bowl, wait for 12 hours, throw the mixture into a cast-iron pot for 30 minutes, viola, you have the crusty bread just like those in the shop.
I did my best to find the yeast in Albert Heijn, though not knowing a word of Dutch, I figured these little package sitting underneath the bakery ingredient section must be yeast. Hastily going home, I cannot wait to start my experiment. The commercial yeast did activate very quickly, I put the bowl filled with the mixture of yeast, flour and water next to my laptop, the heat coming out of the vent should encourage the little bateria to work harder. A couple hours later, you can see the dough start to grow, and the smell of fermenting goods come about (oh well, it smells like the over-ripen fruits). I went to bed with the worry thinking it is going to over grow but, hey, we should trust the recipe.
The resulting bread didn't look like those in the film, it actually tastes like the Chinese-style bun, 饅頭, more than a real bread. Because the crust is not really brown but the interior is pretty soft and tasty. I should really have the cast-iron pot and the commercial baking oven to make it work?
After the bread experiment, I am having a lot of fun of the remaining flour (why flour is done in the way you always have some left is beyound me). I tried the pancake, pasta, Chinese-style noodles and cookies. Except cookies, I had to consume all my results (cookies are for the victims in the office). I guess this is the problem if you have too much free time over weekend.
I did my best to find the yeast in Albert Heijn, though not knowing a word of Dutch, I figured these little package sitting underneath the bakery ingredient section must be yeast. Hastily going home, I cannot wait to start my experiment. The commercial yeast did activate very quickly, I put the bowl filled with the mixture of yeast, flour and water next to my laptop, the heat coming out of the vent should encourage the little bateria to work harder. A couple hours later, you can see the dough start to grow, and the smell of fermenting goods come about (oh well, it smells like the over-ripen fruits). I went to bed with the worry thinking it is going to over grow but, hey, we should trust the recipe.
The resulting bread didn't look like those in the film, it actually tastes like the Chinese-style bun, 饅頭, more than a real bread. Because the crust is not really brown but the interior is pretty soft and tasty. I should really have the cast-iron pot and the commercial baking oven to make it work?
After the bread experiment, I am having a lot of fun of the remaining flour (why flour is done in the way you always have some left is beyound me). I tried the pancake, pasta, Chinese-style noodles and cookies. Except cookies, I had to consume all my results (cookies are for the victims in the office). I guess this is the problem if you have too much free time over weekend.
Party Saturday
Hanging out with colleagues in the city, I biked 45 minutes into Amsterdam, meeting them in the restaurant right next to Dam square. The weather was freezing cold, rain has turned into wet snow, hitting my face. Everything is worthwhile, I told myself, if I can have the nice DimSum foods for brunch. The restaurant was crowded since we only arrived slightly before 1pm. DimSum brunch should be consumed leisurely on weekends, it was filled with hungry people. We finally sat down and had our foods, I cannot be bothered explain what the food is made of, if you don't eat them, I will.
Freezing rain continued, after the lunch, we started our bar claw. We first went to a small liquor shop right next to Dam square, it was the landmark of Amsterdam history. The city used to be the port of favored liquor of Europe continent. We then moved to another cute little pub, Goullene, downed another pint of Belguim beer. We then went to the microbrewry pub, featured a lot of locally brewed Dutch beer. The amazing thing is the bartender still remembers me and he even remembers what I had last time.
Continuing our alcohol drinking journey, we went to one colleauge's flat to get the dinner done and more wine. Around 10ish, we set out to attack the pub around the corner of Jordaan, meeting some other friends. It was snowing very hard by now, but I insisted to go back to Amstelveen by bike. I thought it would be awfully cool to bike alone in the snowy quiet night. I realised I was making a terrible mistake after the first fall on snow.
The snow on the bicycle path were somewhat fresh, but there were some other bicycle tracks making the snow lumpy. The wheels sometimes got trapped into those tracks, slightly losing control, and my instinct told me to slow down, pressing the break resulted in the unavoidable skid (since the tires were locked). I fell with the bicycle, left shoulder landed. Amazingly, it wasn't too painful, quickly picking up the bike, I can only think that I am lucky that no one was behind me to run me over. The snow continued falling, it was freezing cold and my toursers were wet.
The same epidsos repeated itself a couple of time, I finally got home after 1 hour or so. Half drunk and bruised knees, I slept very well.
Freezing rain continued, after the lunch, we started our bar claw. We first went to a small liquor shop right next to Dam square, it was the landmark of Amsterdam history. The city used to be the port of favored liquor of Europe continent. We then moved to another cute little pub, Goullene, downed another pint of Belguim beer. We then went to the microbrewry pub, featured a lot of locally brewed Dutch beer. The amazing thing is the bartender still remembers me and he even remembers what I had last time.
Continuing our alcohol drinking journey, we went to one colleauge's flat to get the dinner done and more wine. Around 10ish, we set out to attack the pub around the corner of Jordaan, meeting some other friends. It was snowing very hard by now, but I insisted to go back to Amstelveen by bike. I thought it would be awfully cool to bike alone in the snowy quiet night. I realised I was making a terrible mistake after the first fall on snow.
The snow on the bicycle path were somewhat fresh, but there were some other bicycle tracks making the snow lumpy. The wheels sometimes got trapped into those tracks, slightly losing control, and my instinct told me to slow down, pressing the break resulted in the unavoidable skid (since the tires were locked). I fell with the bicycle, left shoulder landed. Amazingly, it wasn't too painful, quickly picking up the bike, I can only think that I am lucky that no one was behind me to run me over. The snow continued falling, it was freezing cold and my toursers were wet.
The same epidsos repeated itself a couple of time, I finally got home after 1 hour or so. Half drunk and bruised knees, I slept very well.
Wednesday, January 20, 2010
Panties Exchanged For...
Flying back to Amsterdam, I was looking around for the good sake and soju that could impress my colleagues (they have bought me a couple of very high end single malt scotch), just to show my gratitue. Packing the 2 glass bottles in my suitcase, my mind was occupied by the combination of outfits I can go with the limited amount of clothes.
Not until I was on the bus to the airport, I realised that I had no underwears except those that's on me. I arrived on Wednesday night, there is no way I can get to the shops to get anything until the weekends.
I washed and iron dried them every morning until the Saturday. It worked out pretty ok. Perhaps we don't really need any extra undies at all?
Not until I was on the bus to the airport, I realised that I had no underwears except those that's on me. I arrived on Wednesday night, there is no way I can get to the shops to get anything until the weekends.
I washed and iron dried them every morning until the Saturday. It worked out pretty ok. Perhaps we don't really need any extra undies at all?
Tuesday, January 19, 2010
Folding Bike
Hello kitty is eaten by a panda! Help!
______________________________
During my vacation in Taipei, the best thing is to find a folding bicycle. It is light enough (7 or 8 kg) to carry on your shoulders to get into public transportation. Also fast enough, max speed is around 25 km/h if paddling in casual pace with highest gear.
I rode the folding bike to my dentist, bank, post office, market, museum, juice jar, bookstores, etc. Every morning when I leave home, going down hill is pretty fun (max speed can be 55 km/h), but going home is pretty demanding. Regardless, it is very nice to exercise and sweat. I think winter in Taipei is the best season to get some workout outdoor wise.
The only problem with the folding bike is that it is impossible to lock, I have to carry it with me all the time even if going to a bathroom.
One day I went to the bookstore with the folding bike on my shoulder (folded, packed in the carrying bag). I walked straight to the customer service desk, and asked if I can leave my bike here. The young lady replied "But we are not allowed to watch your bicycle as our company policy alleged..." I felt that anger has changed my facial expression and I said "what if this is a baggage?" pointing to the bag on my shoulder. "In that case, it is ok" said the young lady.
Becoming Dutch
Returning back to Amsterdam after my long vacation in Taipei, sadly my facebook and blogspot login pages are turned into Dutch, more sadly, I can pretty much understand it (the very basic things such as login, logoff, yes, no, and email address, etc). I am still trying to figure out how to make these pages speak English. I guess I only need to learn how to speak over the mobile phone while riding a bicycle to become a more complete one.
Speaking of which, Dutch people are very open-minded, they do not mind dealing with different cultures, such as working with foreigners, enjoying food/drinks coming from other countries. However, they are indeed very private (perhaps that's just being very European). I think Dutch is pretty confident of they way of living, thus, they do not mind seeing or dealing with other cultures. Be very careful, they are not really trying to imitating others , they are only dealing with different values.
Having a very straightforward attitute toward life and everything (for example, you can pretty much do whatever you want to do as long as 1. you can make money 2. you are not bothering others), Dutch people can pretty much handle any culture shock. Think about it, not many cultural differences would conflitct with the Dutch principles.
Dutch though have different understanding of language, they tend to read the face value of sentence. If an English man said to you "I almost agree", what he meant to say is that he does not agree at all. But to a Dutch man, that means "Ah, he has agreed". More translation in the following link, pretty amusing.
http://www.joppeluiten.nl/anglo-dutch%20translation%20guide.htm
I have similar experience when dealing with Dutch people in the bank, I normally end my emails with "please advice" to be polite. However, one of my colleague wrote back "What do you want me to advice, you know everything".
Speaking of which, Dutch people are very open-minded, they do not mind dealing with different cultures, such as working with foreigners, enjoying food/drinks coming from other countries. However, they are indeed very private (perhaps that's just being very European). I think Dutch is pretty confident of they way of living, thus, they do not mind seeing or dealing with other cultures. Be very careful, they are not really trying to imitating others , they are only dealing with different values.
Having a very straightforward attitute toward life and everything (for example, you can pretty much do whatever you want to do as long as 1. you can make money 2. you are not bothering others), Dutch people can pretty much handle any culture shock. Think about it, not many cultural differences would conflitct with the Dutch principles.
Dutch though have different understanding of language, they tend to read the face value of sentence. If an English man said to you "I almost agree", what he meant to say is that he does not agree at all. But to a Dutch man, that means "Ah, he has agreed". More translation in the following link, pretty amusing.
http://www.joppeluiten.nl/anglo-dutch%20translation%20guide.htm
I have similar experience when dealing with Dutch people in the bank, I normally end my emails with "please advice" to be polite. However, one of my colleague wrote back "What do you want me to advice, you know everything".
Sunday, November 29, 2009
Pastime Reading
I am crazily downloading the free books from internet, reading averagely 2 books a day. Most of them are detective stories, I favor Japanese writers' work. However, most of them are really old (the writers were born around 1930, pre-war Japan). These are all Chinese translations. I rarely read novels in English, the sticking factor is just somewhat lower than Chinese ones. I think Chinese is still the most comfortable reading materials for me, perhaps all the English writings draw me back to the studying for exams experience.
It is so amazing how badly written some novels are. The logics do not seem right and you can spot the inconsistency so easily. How they got the book published is really a mystery to me. Regardless, it is still my entertainment most of the nights after work (refuse to go drinking with my colleagues, partly because I hate the public transportation - I live in the country side and most of the partying places are in central amsterdam... And partly because I am really exhausted after the whole day of work. It is just better to spend an hour in the gym, sweating for an hour then take a hot shower, um, I think this is more relaxing).
I innocently downloaded a book by Suzuki Koji, the Chinese name of the book is "the fairy tales of 7 nights". It sounded interesting, I am expecting someone being killed and some smart detective came out to solve the mystery. The story began with 4 young folks died for no reason and the journalist vowed to get to the bottom of it. The story unfoled into a strange sort of answers, totally illogical and inconsistent (I still cannot understand why the powerful spirit hated the media so much but killed herself before she can avenge this grave insult to her and her parents). Nevertheless, Suzuki is very skillful writer, the horror was woven in slowly, tension raised, and I cannot sleep at night with all the lights shut.
Perhaps human beings are built to fear, fear the unknown, fear the uncertain and the unpredictable. Horror story writers deftly stir up the vivid imaginations, the horrifying images arose from your bottom of heart.
It is so amazing how badly written some novels are. The logics do not seem right and you can spot the inconsistency so easily. How they got the book published is really a mystery to me. Regardless, it is still my entertainment most of the nights after work (refuse to go drinking with my colleagues, partly because I hate the public transportation - I live in the country side and most of the partying places are in central amsterdam... And partly because I am really exhausted after the whole day of work. It is just better to spend an hour in the gym, sweating for an hour then take a hot shower, um, I think this is more relaxing).
I innocently downloaded a book by Suzuki Koji, the Chinese name of the book is "the fairy tales of 7 nights". It sounded interesting, I am expecting someone being killed and some smart detective came out to solve the mystery. The story began with 4 young folks died for no reason and the journalist vowed to get to the bottom of it. The story unfoled into a strange sort of answers, totally illogical and inconsistent (I still cannot understand why the powerful spirit hated the media so much but killed herself before she can avenge this grave insult to her and her parents). Nevertheless, Suzuki is very skillful writer, the horror was woven in slowly, tension raised, and I cannot sleep at night with all the lights shut.
Perhaps human beings are built to fear, fear the unknown, fear the uncertain and the unpredictable. Horror story writers deftly stir up the vivid imaginations, the horrifying images arose from your bottom of heart.
Saturday, November 07, 2009
Birthday Party
party ...
party more ...
party square ...
I personally never think birthday is a day worth celebrating at all, but I guess this is one of the most-have of human social activities (imagine, without it, we don't really have execuse to party). But why birthday? I hate to be the center of attention. I'd rather hide in the corner and drink like Great Gatsby.
I declined every drink/dinner/party invitation, I don't even go lunch with anyone in the office, I prefer stay home and read. As I get old, I become less amiable and friendly toward colleagus. I am more into being alone, I go to the gym alone, rollerblade alone, eat alone, and drink alone. I think I am going to lose the ability to talk to people soon. Making the project successful is my top piority, why should I spend time making friends. Oh my god, I am turning into a really awful person and the worse of all is that I don't see it as a problem.
I was dragged into the social event on Wednesday night. It was held in a bowling alley and surprisingly I had so much fun. I don't think I have ever touched a bowling ball since I left Toronto, surprisingly, I did pretty alright after the first game. Sports is so fun than just drinking yourself silly. The dinner was alright, trying hard to make conversation with people sitting next to me, but due to the fact I haven't been talking to these people socially much before, conversation dried up pretty quickly. Ha ha, I am old enough not to feel ackward, I just kept eating.
The dancing was also pretty fun, people hanging around the dancing floor that relaxing atmorsphere sort of making me feel very high, gee, the last time I was on the dance floor must be ages. I was told that I surprised everyone that I can party like that. I fell asleep on the way home, the jetlag is really killing me. Wabbly bicyling home from the coach stop, happy birthday to myself.
Dutch Project
Perhaps this bank is not really an investment bank, not sure why people I have met in the bank are really relaxing. One of the bank managers, the decision maker didn't turn up on Friday, I was like, hello, where is he? His colleagues told me oh, that's Daddy's day. He doesn't work on Friday. What is the deal? Because Dutch law says you can only work 35 hours a week, if he's put in more than 9 hours a day Monday through Thursday, he is forbidden to work on Friday.
I was speechless, gee, go-live critical issue, deadline is pressing, and the decision maker has gone home for the day (oh no, he simply just doesn't turn up). This is even worse than the central monetary control bank in communist Beijing. Things like this occur from time to time. One week before the parallel run, the environment team out of blue found out there is no support procedure, i.e., no one is really monitoring the overnight batch run (PS1). I was again speechless, isn't that part of environment teams' responsibilities?
Even during the parallel run, the batch job has failed during the night, no one really know who they should call and how they can handle the situation. They have to get in touch with me because no one really understand my design of the system and how the core system bridges to other upstream/downstream systems (although I tried my best to document everything, no one can be bothered to read them). I am just overwhelmed. This is the most unorganized project I ever worked for, though I have so many managers, I am the only foot solder doing the dirty work.
Frustrating, but the bank manager bribed me to stay with them with a bottle of 18 year highland park. Damn, that's really delicious.
I was speechless, gee, go-live critical issue, deadline is pressing, and the decision maker has gone home for the day (oh no, he simply just doesn't turn up). This is even worse than the central monetary control bank in communist Beijing. Things like this occur from time to time. One week before the parallel run, the environment team out of blue found out there is no support procedure, i.e., no one is really monitoring the overnight batch run (PS1). I was again speechless, isn't that part of environment teams' responsibilities?
Even during the parallel run, the batch job has failed during the night, no one really know who they should call and how they can handle the situation. They have to get in touch with me because no one really understand my design of the system and how the core system bridges to other upstream/downstream systems (although I tried my best to document everything, no one can be bothered to read them). I am just overwhelmed. This is the most unorganized project I ever worked for, though I have so many managers, I am the only foot solder doing the dirty work.
Frustrating, but the bank manager bribed me to stay with them with a bottle of 18 year highland park. Damn, that's really delicious.
Hotel Survival Guide (4)
This is the 4th episode of my hotel survivial guide. Actually, I was put into a very nice service apartment in Amstelveen during my stay in Netherlands. Many of my colleagues urge me to move to the party town, central Amsterdam. But I just see no benefit of doing so. I quite enjoy not partying, I read and spend long time sleeping after work. Amstelveen is a quite residential area, staying in the high floor, through the window, I can see the whole Amstel river area and the flatness of farmlands to miles.
This establishment has 300+ rooms and it is normally filled. The hotel management throw monthly party, through which I realise there are tons of consultants shipped from India for ABN AMRO, ING (We are going to talk about the inefficiency of bank IT project in the future). Another interesting thing is that many Korean or Japanese companies set up their European operation centers this area as well. I guess it has a lot to do with the easy-goingness of Dutch and Dutch tax law.
I had the agreement with the bank to have a 6 week 2 week roation if they would like to engage my service. Every time I check out of the apartment, I left some of my kitchen stuff, bicycle and rollerblades with them, await for my next return. So far it works out alright. The problem is that you don't really get the same flat every time returning to the service apartment. One day I came back from work exhausted, my mind was really occupied and I duly climbed up to the first floor and tried to unlock the door with my cardkey. Damn, it didn't work. I spent a couple seconds thinking what's wrong with my key then I realised, shit, I was moved to the 5th floor.
Similar thing happened before, I was checked into a nice hotel in Melbourne, after the super long flight (I think I was flying from Beijing, transiting via ShangHai, and the flight was delayed for 3 hours, the total travel time is about 20 hours). I was so tired and hungry, after dropping my bags I ran out to get foods. when I returned, I tried really really hard to think what's my room number. I remember the floor but not the room number. I didn't really want to spend any energy to get down to the front desk (also really embarrassed), I came up with a brilliant idea, I am going to try my key with every single door on the floor, ha, there were only 20+, I think I should be lucky enough to get it before half of them ran out.
I wasn't that lucky, also, I was afraid to be spot by other guests. I had to get down to the front desk, asking for my room number which they only gave me 30 minutes beforehand.
This establishment has 300+ rooms and it is normally filled. The hotel management throw monthly party, through which I realise there are tons of consultants shipped from India for ABN AMRO, ING (We are going to talk about the inefficiency of bank IT project in the future). Another interesting thing is that many Korean or Japanese companies set up their European operation centers this area as well. I guess it has a lot to do with the easy-goingness of Dutch and Dutch tax law.
I had the agreement with the bank to have a 6 week 2 week roation if they would like to engage my service. Every time I check out of the apartment, I left some of my kitchen stuff, bicycle and rollerblades with them, await for my next return. So far it works out alright. The problem is that you don't really get the same flat every time returning to the service apartment. One day I came back from work exhausted, my mind was really occupied and I duly climbed up to the first floor and tried to unlock the door with my cardkey. Damn, it didn't work. I spent a couple seconds thinking what's wrong with my key then I realised, shit, I was moved to the 5th floor.
Similar thing happened before, I was checked into a nice hotel in Melbourne, after the super long flight (I think I was flying from Beijing, transiting via ShangHai, and the flight was delayed for 3 hours, the total travel time is about 20 hours). I was so tired and hungry, after dropping my bags I ran out to get foods. when I returned, I tried really really hard to think what's my room number. I remember the floor but not the room number. I didn't really want to spend any energy to get down to the front desk (also really embarrassed), I came up with a brilliant idea, I am going to try my key with every single door on the floor, ha, there were only 20+, I think I should be lucky enough to get it before half of them ran out.
I wasn't that lucky, also, I was afraid to be spot by other guests. I had to get down to the front desk, asking for my room number which they only gave me 30 minutes beforehand.
Saturday, October 10, 2009
I am more tired than I thought
Continuing the weekend working scheduled since I came back to Amsterdam in early September, I found that I was really burned. I couldn't sleep well at night and weak up late in the morning. Coming back from work this afternoon, I felt dizzy and headache and rolled to the bed and passed out for 4 hours on Saturday afternoon. Ah, very much needed rest, it is the raining season in Amsterdam, I cannot go rollerblading...
Thursday, October 01, 2009
Cutting into the flesh
I am very environmental friendly and always paying attention to what people do with the recyclable materials in every city I live. Amsterdam is obviously not very good (London is worse, I witnessed the pub dumped the whole trash can worth of glass bottles into dumpster), the recycle bin is very far away from every house, people do not have good incentive to recycle anything. Never mention the steel or aluminium cans, no one really recycle them. The cleaning lady simply put everything into the big garbage bin.
I purposely hide the glass bottles, thinking that's the only small thing I can do to help the environment. I bike to the recycle center once every couple weeks to put the glassy stuff into the right bin (my Ducth is really improving, I can recognize which one is for paper, and which one is for glasses). I broke a salad bowl the other day (for those kitchenware surviving me for over 2 weeks, you shoud aware them). The salad bowl was still in a shape, but with cracks all over.
When I reached the recycle bin, I dumped a couple bottles into the small opening without problem, but the salad bowl is too big to fit in. So I smashed it on the floor, finally, it had broken into 3 manageable sizes. Picking up the big pieces, my left hand was holding the stupid heavy plastic blocking the opening, and the sharp edge cut into the back of my left hand. The edge was so sharp that I didn't feel any pain, I thought I even heard the small "pohk" sound when the sharp edge breaking into my flesh. The wound is about 2 cm wide, the cut is very clean, the blood didn't rush out until a couple seconds later. What an interesting cut, the blood kept running but I didn't feel it at all, I guess I was more annoyed by the fact that the blood would stain my jacket or something. Also I am annoyed by the fact that there might be a scar left.
Thinking anyone commit suicide by slitting the wist or throat open?
I purposely hide the glass bottles, thinking that's the only small thing I can do to help the environment. I bike to the recycle center once every couple weeks to put the glassy stuff into the right bin (my Ducth is really improving, I can recognize which one is for paper, and which one is for glasses). I broke a salad bowl the other day (for those kitchenware surviving me for over 2 weeks, you shoud aware them). The salad bowl was still in a shape, but with cracks all over.
When I reached the recycle bin, I dumped a couple bottles into the small opening without problem, but the salad bowl is too big to fit in. So I smashed it on the floor, finally, it had broken into 3 manageable sizes. Picking up the big pieces, my left hand was holding the stupid heavy plastic blocking the opening, and the sharp edge cut into the back of my left hand. The edge was so sharp that I didn't feel any pain, I thought I even heard the small "pohk" sound when the sharp edge breaking into my flesh. The wound is about 2 cm wide, the cut is very clean, the blood didn't rush out until a couple seconds later. What an interesting cut, the blood kept running but I didn't feel it at all, I guess I was more annoyed by the fact that the blood would stain my jacket or something. Also I am annoyed by the fact that there might be a scar left.
Thinking anyone commit suicide by slitting the wist or throat open?
Sunday, September 13, 2009
Going Home (2)
Toward the weekend, I can hang out with my mom and Sandy. We went to visit Grace and Kevin's home in Taichung, on the way to Taichung, picking up uncle Thomas and Sandy. Non stop eating is the preparation for our surfing trip in WaiAu the next day.
I was suppose to wake up at 4am but overslept. Reaching the beach around 6am, it is already crowded with surfers. The waves were excellent after typhoon, clean and aligned nicely., I guess it should be ok for beginners like me. Sandy was trying to use her charm to give me a free surf board, oh well, I refused her good will and duly paid for my board (as I aged, I understand that free stuff usually turns out to be the most expensive). A bit disappointed that the surf board rental shop couldn't send someone to go to the waves with me (I guess I am not as cute as my cousin, and the side effect of getting old is that you don't really want to be miss congeniality under all circumstances, ha ha ha) since the waves looked really scary (they told me they had 2 broken board yesterday).
Putting on the wet suite (I was told the waves was too strong, my bikkini might be washed away) and run to the waves, paddling really hard to get out. It really takes some practice, you have to know when to paddle and when to keep still. I rode a couple of very good waves and drank some mouthful of sea water. Feeling really thirsty, I decided to get back to the shore to take a break. While taking off the wetsuite, I didn't realise my bikini had moved around and my right nipple was completely visible. Oh shit, I put it back to the right position and pretend nothing has happened.
While I was enjoying the waves, the worse thing had happened, my period came. Although I had stuff a tampon hoping for the best (I have waited for the whole week for this surfing...), but the sea water had found its way into my body... And came back out while I left the water. Too embarrassing to stay on (I am really puzzled why I should feel embarrassed, perhaps that's the animal instinct thinking I am dirtying the environment?), I had no choice but packing up and drove home. What a timing.
I was suppose to wake up at 4am but overslept. Reaching the beach around 6am, it is already crowded with surfers. The waves were excellent after typhoon, clean and aligned nicely., I guess it should be ok for beginners like me. Sandy was trying to use her charm to give me a free surf board, oh well, I refused her good will and duly paid for my board (as I aged, I understand that free stuff usually turns out to be the most expensive). A bit disappointed that the surf board rental shop couldn't send someone to go to the waves with me (I guess I am not as cute as my cousin, and the side effect of getting old is that you don't really want to be miss congeniality under all circumstances, ha ha ha) since the waves looked really scary (they told me they had 2 broken board yesterday).
Putting on the wet suite (I was told the waves was too strong, my bikkini might be washed away) and run to the waves, paddling really hard to get out. It really takes some practice, you have to know when to paddle and when to keep still. I rode a couple of very good waves and drank some mouthful of sea water. Feeling really thirsty, I decided to get back to the shore to take a break. While taking off the wetsuite, I didn't realise my bikini had moved around and my right nipple was completely visible. Oh shit, I put it back to the right position and pretend nothing has happened.
While I was enjoying the waves, the worse thing had happened, my period came. Although I had stuff a tampon hoping for the best (I have waited for the whole week for this surfing...), but the sea water had found its way into my body... And came back out while I left the water. Too embarrassing to stay on (I am really puzzled why I should feel embarrassed, perhaps that's the animal instinct thinking I am dirtying the environment?), I had no choice but packing up and drove home. What a timing.
Thursday, September 10, 2009
Going Home (1)
I flew back home and was greeted by non-stop rain for the first 3 days. That wasn't too bad, at least the temperature was pleasant. Spending time in Taipei is always like this: sleep, eat, shop for esentials for my next long excursion away from home, run some errands for my mom (she is so tighted up with my nephew, Golden Pig. A simple task such as my mom's visiting doctor requires full logistic planning. If I am not around, my mom would take the bus to the city center with 2-year old Golden Pig, time the bus schedule so well that my sister in law would jump onto the same bus after work to take over the kid so that my mom is freed to visit her doctor...), have hair cut, get my nails done, go swimming during the day, hang out with Grace, Kevin and XiaoHo for dinner.
The only problem is to have group dinner, if I invite my dad, most people won't turn up. The only solution is to eat in the same restaurant twice. Anyhow, my dad is so happy to be taken out for dinner. He sneaked in the restaurant with a bottle of single malt scotch I bought. We ate, drank and took the taxi home (what a luxurious act... I think the number of times for us to take taxi in Taipei can be counted with my fingers).
My dad is actually a very cute person, though most of the time he is very annoying (I guess he is just very clumsy in expressing himself). His habbit of taking the less capable (including human beings and animals) under his wings pissed off my mom greatly. His recent trophy is a young pigeon. THe pigeon is very strange, he comes every day around 9am and leaves around 4pm. He is not afraid of being touched by anyone in our household. One time, I-lang opened the screen door (with his nose), and the pigeon came into our living room. My mom came back home while my dad was not around (thank god, otherwise there would be a good yelling match) seeing the pigeon walking on her dinning table, she went blistered, caught the pigeon (without any resistence) and so furious, she said to me, she almost wanted to break the pigeon's neck.
She couldn't do it, instead, she tangled the pigeon's wings and threw him over the balcony. It took the pigeon a while to untangle his wings and flapping against the gravity. He still reports to our house 9am every morning.
My dad said that one time he was watching Discovery channel, and the pigeon was hanging out and watching TV with him. One of the scene was a eagle diving down from the sky in the screen, and the pigeon thought that was real, hurrily making his escape and bumped into the glass window. That was really funny.
The only problem is to have group dinner, if I invite my dad, most people won't turn up. The only solution is to eat in the same restaurant twice. Anyhow, my dad is so happy to be taken out for dinner. He sneaked in the restaurant with a bottle of single malt scotch I bought. We ate, drank and took the taxi home (what a luxurious act... I think the number of times for us to take taxi in Taipei can be counted with my fingers).
My dad is actually a very cute person, though most of the time he is very annoying (I guess he is just very clumsy in expressing himself). His habbit of taking the less capable (including human beings and animals) under his wings pissed off my mom greatly. His recent trophy is a young pigeon. THe pigeon is very strange, he comes every day around 9am and leaves around 4pm. He is not afraid of being touched by anyone in our household. One time, I-lang opened the screen door (with his nose), and the pigeon came into our living room. My mom came back home while my dad was not around (thank god, otherwise there would be a good yelling match) seeing the pigeon walking on her dinning table, she went blistered, caught the pigeon (without any resistence) and so furious, she said to me, she almost wanted to break the pigeon's neck.
She couldn't do it, instead, she tangled the pigeon's wings and threw him over the balcony. It took the pigeon a while to untangle his wings and flapping against the gravity. He still reports to our house 9am every morning.
My dad said that one time he was watching Discovery channel, and the pigeon was hanging out and watching TV with him. One of the scene was a eagle diving down from the sky in the screen, and the pigeon thought that was real, hurrily making his escape and bumped into the glass window. That was really funny.
Shower in the Dark
When returning to my small flat in Tokyo after the 11-hour journey, I was still hoping that Tokyo electricity company would show some mercy not cutting out my power supply (I only missed the payment for June, but I did pay for July and the direct deposit has been set up from August onward).
I was indeed too naive, over-estimated the flexibility of Japanese company (why they couldn't pay off the outstanding June balance with the July payment?). I first cleared out the stuffy mail box and found 8 angry payment request mails. Gee, that's not good. Opening my door, the automatic light in the interlock didn't lit up, shit, they really cut out the electricity. I had shut down my fridge, even the washlet when I left for Amsterdam 8 weeks ago, shutting down the electricity didn't really cause me too much trouble. I try to comfort myself...
It was Sunday that I landed, although I really want to make the payment, I have to go to one of their branches to sort out the payment on business hours, which is only available on Monday to Friday, 8am to 5pm.
Life without electricity is not too bad when there is daylight to show me the way around my apartment, the only problem is to take a shower in the dark bathroom. I ran out to buy the flashlight, carefully positioning it in my bathroom, I took a shower in the dim. I was actually cracking up, this is such an interesting experience. If there is anything, I think that's the shame I felt about not to pay my bills on time (believe me, that's really stressful), pondering what I should do tomorrow when paying off the bill. When the night falls, I used my hotpot stove to cook some hotwater and made the instane soup. Not a problem to fall asleep, there wasn't much to do.
I was indeed too naive, over-estimated the flexibility of Japanese company (why they couldn't pay off the outstanding June balance with the July payment?). I first cleared out the stuffy mail box and found 8 angry payment request mails. Gee, that's not good. Opening my door, the automatic light in the interlock didn't lit up, shit, they really cut out the electricity. I had shut down my fridge, even the washlet when I left for Amsterdam 8 weeks ago, shutting down the electricity didn't really cause me too much trouble. I try to comfort myself...
It was Sunday that I landed, although I really want to make the payment, I have to go to one of their branches to sort out the payment on business hours, which is only available on Monday to Friday, 8am to 5pm.
Life without electricity is not too bad when there is daylight to show me the way around my apartment, the only problem is to take a shower in the dark bathroom. I ran out to buy the flashlight, carefully positioning it in my bathroom, I took a shower in the dim. I was actually cracking up, this is such an interesting experience. If there is anything, I think that's the shame I felt about not to pay my bills on time (believe me, that's really stressful), pondering what I should do tomorrow when paying off the bill. When the night falls, I used my hotpot stove to cook some hotwater and made the instane soup. Not a problem to fall asleep, there wasn't much to do.
Sunday, August 23, 2009
How to Use Bicycle in Amsterdam
The picture is taken from earthlink
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In Amsterdam, bicycle is used as the transporation tool, you don't need to put on your funky and uncomfortable biking trousers with padding and halmets before jumping on the bike, you just go in the same outfit as you would appear in the office. Men dressed in suits with brief case (which was put away in the basket in front), ladies with heels and short skirts, mothers/fathers with 2 kids in front trolley, you see them all.
Biking is rather relaxing in a way, you are not competing with anyone to get anywhere fast, you just go, as natural as walking. That's something about Dutch, they are never paranoid, to be honest, I haven't seen anyone wearing halmets in the city.
Dutch has also invented a lot of way of riding a bicycle, one day I saw a guy riding a bike, with his girl sitting behind, what's unsual is that she is holding a shopping trolley. Oh man, that's so convenient. You don't even need to worry about your basket is not big enough for your weekly shopping.
You can also see sometimes a guy riding a bicycle while holding another one. That's really a technique! Not thinking the guy is trying to show off or something, that's really practical. Imagining if you are going to a bike shop picking up your bike?
Great Dim Sum in Amsterdam
This is my favorite pic in Cathy's wedding. She didn't spend money doing the salon style wedding pictures (The type the bride put on heavy make-up. My guess is that all little girls have the dream to become a movie star once in their life, wedding day of course is the best occasion to do it. Somehow that is very popular among Chinese newly weds). In her wedding, the professional photographer quietly standing aside clicking away his camera while everything is happening.
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After being very diappointed in the NanTin near Waterlooplein, I challenged another Cantonese DimSum restaurant at the edge of redlight district. Again, I have found a couple of victims from our project group (it is impossible to taste so many dishes by myself, besides, DimSum is not made for single diner).
I cheerfully rode my bicycle to Amsterdam on bright sunny Saturday morning, planning I am going to pick up 2 colleagues separately. As I rode long the road, listening to my favorite music, an old guy playing harmonica riding next to me. He started speaking to me while both of us stopped before the red light. Very cheerful person, explaining he is a street performer, on his way to the weekly practice session with his band. He kept asking how old I am. I told him I am almost 40. But he didn't give up, he proposed "I think you look 17 years old but if you are 40, maybe you should be a girl friend of a 60 year old guy like me". Great start of the day, I think I am getting a bit self-esteem back.
I had a great laugh. While we split, "Have a great weekend", I said, and kept paddling toward the city. I picked up Tom, who in turn gave me ried on my bicycle, when to pick up MengChain from his hotel, 3 of us heading toward the oriental city just before noon.
The restaurant is empty because we arrived literally the moment they opened the door. We were sat in a desk right away. The main waiter is obviously very experienced (and he is the only one responsible of taking orders, that's unusual in a Chinese establishment of around 80 or 90 sittings). But I hope he doesn't sweat that much.... He gave us the pot of tea with geniun tea leaves (Nantin only gave us the luke warm tea with tea bags in it). The dipping sauces were all correct, one of the traditional ChowZhou spicy chily oil and two of the Red sweet chilly saurce with yellow Cantonese mastard.
I was so hungry and everything looked so delicious, I quickly ordered the food. When the saute raddish cake came to the table, I knew I was in the right place. It was freshly made, crispy outside and tender inside. The Cantonese style sausages were thinly sliced and hidden, you only taste the flavor but not too much the grease. I was a bit mischievious trying to challenging Tom's bottom line(Tom is a white guy, not particularly having the adventureous attitude toward Chinese foods), I order the steamed chicken feet with spare ribs. That was unexceptionally good, we even got Tom to take one of these. The CheungFun was also made to the very good standard. Silky and tendor transparent sheet made of rice, carefully wrapping around the thread duck meat and scallion. Cooked oil and soy sauce dressing made it shiny. We all loved this dish (I only wish I can order one more). We happily chatted and ate (I guess only me, I am so easily excited by good food). After the food, though there were people queuing up, the head waiter replaced the tea leaves and gave us a fresh pot of tea. What a service! (Maybe it doesn't mean much in Western restaurants, but to money making agressive Chinese restauranteurs, this is very exceptional).
The food is not as good as those I had in Toronto or Hong Kong, in terms of the ingredients or the processing (attention to details), however, this is one of the best Chinese meals I have for ages.
Tuesday, August 18, 2009
Sunny California (3)
I like, I like, I like single malt again...
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I again woke up in the middle of the night, tasting every edible item in the fridge, soaking myself in the sweet and warm memory of searching for foods in the fridges in my parents house in my childhood. The next day, we were scheduled to go to Napas, but god knows I am just happy to be around in the simple California household. Cathy insisted to drive me around the bay area, we crossed the mountain to high way 1, found a nice beach, ate the cherries we purchased on the way, and fell asleep on the beach listening to the waves.
We then went to the super market, I shamelessly asked Cathy to cook for me during my last night staying in Bay area. She cooked this fabulous stir fried clamps and steamed fish, both Mike and I were eating to our hearts' content. After dinner, we strolled along Palo Alto's downtown, sharing the yogurt ice cream, getting back to the car, my jetlag hit me so hard that I fell asleep the instance I buckled my seat belt.
Waking up on blue Monday, we went to the famous Olympic size swimming pool in Stanford, just 2 hours before my flight back to Amsterdam. Man, that was really awesome. I almost forgot how it feels to swim at a outdoor swimming pool. The sun was so strong (it was almost 90 degree that day), the cool and slightly salty water calmed down my burning skin, I moved forward effortlessly with my strokes, man, I think I will move back to California just for the pool.
I arrived in the airport just to enough time to check in and buy myself a bottle of Bowmore, flying home and pondering why I left California 8 years ago.
Sunday, August 16, 2009
Midnight Bicycle
I threw a party in my apartment on Saturday evening, 3 colleagues came, complaining about why I live in such a remote area (2 of them live in central Amsterdam). But I really have no desire to live in the tourist filled, busy and noisy city center. I don't club, and do not really like to hang out in a pub, living in Amstelveen works just fine for me. The amstel river is only 10 minute away, rollerskating along the river listening to music has become the best thing to do after work. No need to worry about getting in the way of bicycle, poeple, trams, buses...
Anyhow, the party went well (at least they finished the food I prepared) and down with a dozen or so Heiniken, followed by wine, and my newly purchased Bowmore 12 years. In order to escort my guests to the Amstelveen city center to take the Tram No. 5, I took my bicycle, thinking I can walk them over and ride home afterward. Victor, who is also staying in the same apartment complex, suggested what we should all go to the pub in Amstelveen city center and have a drink before the last tram. He also took his bike out from the garage. Hey, why don't we all ride the bike? Tom rode my bike and I sat very uncomfortably at the back (the bike rack is not designed for sitting), while we were trying very hard to start up, Vic carrying Meng took over us in a very fast speed. Tom and I tried our best to keep our balance, wobbling along the quiet bike path, my butts were really hurting but it was really good fun, we shouted and laughed through the journey. We lost sight of Vic and Meng, but eventually saw them walking toward the station. Vic's bike was broken because his sports bike was not designed to carry any heavy weight in the back. The tire has deformed into a S shape.
Regardless, that didn't stop us to have another beer in the nice pub. Vic was a bit upset because his Sunday bike excursion plan is scatterd. After Tom and Meng went on the tram, I walked with Vic to pick up his bike. I looked at the tire and thought perhaps we can manage to put it back to a state that Vic at least can ride back home. Vic agreed that's a good idea, we held the bike flat on the ground, and he stepped on top of the tire, pushing pressure evenly on the tire. To our surprise, it actually came back to shape and is ok to ride. We laughed so loud like idiots, who would think this would work?
Anyhow, the party went well (at least they finished the food I prepared) and down with a dozen or so Heiniken, followed by wine, and my newly purchased Bowmore 12 years. In order to escort my guests to the Amstelveen city center to take the Tram No. 5, I took my bicycle, thinking I can walk them over and ride home afterward. Victor, who is also staying in the same apartment complex, suggested what we should all go to the pub in Amstelveen city center and have a drink before the last tram. He also took his bike out from the garage. Hey, why don't we all ride the bike? Tom rode my bike and I sat very uncomfortably at the back (the bike rack is not designed for sitting), while we were trying very hard to start up, Vic carrying Meng took over us in a very fast speed. Tom and I tried our best to keep our balance, wobbling along the quiet bike path, my butts were really hurting but it was really good fun, we shouted and laughed through the journey. We lost sight of Vic and Meng, but eventually saw them walking toward the station. Vic's bike was broken because his sports bike was not designed to carry any heavy weight in the back. The tire has deformed into a S shape.
Regardless, that didn't stop us to have another beer in the nice pub. Vic was a bit upset because his Sunday bike excursion plan is scatterd. After Tom and Meng went on the tram, I walked with Vic to pick up his bike. I looked at the tire and thought perhaps we can manage to put it back to a state that Vic at least can ride back home. Vic agreed that's a good idea, we held the bike flat on the ground, and he stepped on top of the tire, pushing pressure evenly on the tire. To our surprise, it actually came back to shape and is ok to ride. We laughed so loud like idiots, who would think this would work?
Sunny California (2)
I make Woody wearing the pink trousers... Side effect of going to gay pride parade in Amsterdam the week before.
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Everything in the wedding was arranged to the up most efficient way, it is very Cathy (and at the same time, she would say, ah, I am not sure if it is right this way, but interestingly, she is always right). The hotel is 20 minute drive away from Cathy and Mike's. They kept telling me it is very close, I guess, my perception of distance is quite different from Californians. The weather is again so nice, I felt the pain when the sun directly hit my skin. The lawn was green, sky blue, everything clean... Virtual reality.
Meeting up many old friends in the wedding, some of them have turned into parents, they actually look very adults. Sigh, I think our distance is not only geographical one, but maturity. I just cannot really think myself as a real adult. They sat down and started talking about everything related to kids, I can only think when I can jump into the pool and get tanned.
We went to the Hong Kong style restaurant at night, the other bride's maid, Wendy, flew in from Austin, where Chinese food is not really authentic. In my case, I have not had proper Cantonese seafood for ages. 2 other couples came along to the dinner, Cathy spoiled us by ordering 2 lobsters, and steamed fish, we were eating like pigs (um, only me). We have 2 vegeterians on the table, I was chewing out of the lobster meat and wondering why the hell they want to torture themselves that way. We ordered the egg fried rice for our vegetarian friends, and told the kitchen please do not put any meat. While everyone is enjoying the fried rice, Cathy and I found that there are some dried scallop threads and, oh my god, shark fin threads. Obviously, the kitchen wanted this to be a enhanced version of simple fried rice. Cathy and I quietly scoped out those into my bow, covered up the animal bits under the rice, I was so satisfied (oh yeah, I love greasy Chinese food, besides, this is my vacation, I can eat whatever I want to eat).
Sunny California (1)
Um, I thought I am not as tanned as Cathy...
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Flying 10 hours to San Francisco. I didn't remember that I do not need to fill up the I-94 form to get into US. Nevertheless, the immigration officer asked me why the country of my residence is Japan but I was flying in from Amsterdam. Um, I explained that I had a slightly longer commute to work. He gave me the sympathetic smile, I went through the immigration faster than most European passport holders. I have been away from US for really long time, perhaps 5+ year? It was a bit strange to see the easy-going immigration officers (perhaps it is the California thing?). With only one backpack, I literally dashed out of the custom right after.
Cathy mentioned she is going to sent Mike over to pick me up, I was a bit worried that I won't recognize him afterall, the last time we met was about 7 years ago. I had no Cathy's no mobile phone and no US dollars, ha ha ha, thinking I shall be able to figure something out if I miss out Mike. Luckily, he didn't change a bit.
Everything in the airport looked so familiar (used to run to the airport a lot to pick up, drop off, fly in/out). The traffic on 101 was still bad, the sun shined so much, 'til then I can focus a bit and realised I am back in town.
Reaching Cathy and Mike's home, wow, I think I have been living in a big city and cramping apartments for too long. It is so surprising to feel the space and pleasantness of a house with yards. Some of Cathy's friends were already around busy preparing the flowers, I was fed some fried rice noodles then joined the working force. Really not good at all in arranging the flowers nicely in a jar, I think the best service I provided is to entertain everyone by joking around. I hadn't had a good sleep for so many hours, I was losing focus again... Sleep deprivation is really a serious thing.
My memory was really blury, how we went to beauty salon to have our nails done and stuff. I think some friends came over to discuss the speech and affirmation stuff, I was so exhausted that I can only hold the big salad bow and chew the greens in front of TV mindedlessly (Cathy cooked enough vegetarian foods to feed the army, I was really curious to try her version of Cesear salad dressing, which contains various condiments, Western and Chinese, and a raw egg). Um, yummy, I managed to pull my tired body to the second floor at the proper time (they don't let me sleep in the name of correcting jetlag) and slept like a dead person.
Waking up around 3am, I ventured down to my favorite place in the house, the kitchen, and examined all edible items in the fridge. The fridge light lightened up the dark kitchen, seeing the solid filled fridge gave me a strange warm feeling. Ah, this is a proper home, not just a student or a single household residence. I ate the fruits and finally had the appetite for the ice cream (they were bragging about how fatty and delicious it was during dinner).
I ate and brushed my teeth again, fell into sleep once more, the air smelled the trees, lawns and some flowers.
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