Sky is always blue

This entry is in Vietnamese -- advance apology for the diversion from writing a second entry about my first-year college roommate which I promised to continue from the last post. I will resume to this particular topic once I have the chance to vent whatever I currently have on my mind in Vietnamese.

Mấy ngày hôm nay trong office, mọi người nôn nao hí hửng chờ đón một mùa Giáng Sinh đang cận kề. Dường như tất cả các câu chuyện to nhỏ ngoài lề work-related xoay chung quanh vấn đề shopping, chọn quà cho gia đình, holiday plans sẽ làm gì, ai sẽ nấu ăn, ai sẽ host ai...Trong sở có khoảng 20 người nhưng có một mình mình tỉnh lặng, không tham gia vào việc bàn tán đó vì thật sự cũng không có gì để chia xẻ với họ.

Sống và lớn lên trong một gia đình không quan trọng hóa vấn đề quà cáp, đặc biệt là quà Giáng Sinh vì chưa bao giờ cả gia đình xem những ngày lễ của đạo Thiên Chúa làm phong tục tập quán của riêng gia đình mình. Thế nên mình không quen cái vụ mua quà cáp tặng qua tặng lại cho ai cả, ngoại trừ những món quà để tham gia Yankee Swap mang tính chất vui nhộn với bạn bè mà thôi. Hôm kia cô thư ký riêng của mình thở dài, bảo rằng thằng cháu mới 11 hay 12 tuổi gì đó đòi ông già Nô En tặng một cái iPod trong đêm Giáng Sinh. Nghe xong mình cũng giật mình vì một đứa bé mới bằng tuổi ấy mà đã biết vòi vĩnh những món quà đắt tiền như thế. Nhưng mình cũng không nói gì vì đây là văn hóa và phong tục của họ nên đành keep my opinion to myself. :) Chỉ cười cười mà thôi.

Nói xa thì cũng phải nhìn gần. Ông anh thứ ba của mình cũng là một trong những người thích conform sau khi lấy vợ, có con, có nhà riêng. Bà chị dâu cũng mua cây thông về, treo tòn ten các quả bóng lấp lánh, rồi giăng đèn ngang dọc, rồi quà cáp cho anh chị họ hàng xa gần (ngoại trừ cho mình). Đứa cháu năm nay 6 tuổi, không biết là nó sẽ được các bác các cậu cho quà gì...năm nào cũng đủ thứ quần áo, đồ chơi, phim DVD, và các xa xí phẩm không cần thiết cho một đứa bé 5 hay 6 tuổi cho lắm. Quần áo rồi nó cũng mặc chật vì con nít lớn nhanh, đồ chơi thì chơi vài ngày cũng chán. Sau vài tháng thì các thứ đồ chơi nằm lăn lóc tứ tung, rồi đến hè cũng phải đem bỏ ngoài thùng rác. Cứ như vậy, năm nào đến sinh nhật hay mùa lễ như vầy là nó mong đợi quà từ người này đến người khác. Vậy mà ông anh và bà chị dâu ít khi nào dạy cho nó về giá trị của tiền, về những giờ giấc đi làm cực khổ với minimum wage. Mấy tuần trước gọi điện thoại cho ông anh, bảo rằng phải mở một cái college saving account cho nó, rồi khi ai đó cho quà hay quần áo, giử lại receipts, ra tiệm đổi lại lấy tiền rồi bỏ vào trương mục để dành cho sau này. Như vậy thì có chút practical hơn, và giúp nó biết về the value of money. Chứ để năm nào cũng như vậy hoài thì nó chỉ biết tiền là từ trên trời rơi xuống.

Thêm một chuyện chướng tai gai mắt mà mình chưa bao giờ nêu ra (vì sợ mất lòng ông anh) là cứ mùa Giáng Sinh thì gia đình bên bà chị dâu ùa nhau quà cáp như cả nhà đã theo đạo Thiên Chúa, còn đến khi Tết Nguyên Đán thì không ai làm gì nhiều, chỉ qua loa rồi xong, không cúng tổ tiên, không dạy cho nó ý nghĩa của ngày Tết. Như thế thì khác gì bác bỏ phong tục tập hóa của mình mà đi theo đại chúng người bản xứ. Làm như vậy thì làm sao dạy nó về văn hóa của người Việt, phong tục của ông cha? Làm như vậy không khác gì bảo nó cứ đi theo người Mỹ mà quên đi gốc gác người Việt.

Bởi vậy mình không thích cái văn hóa quà cáp theo vật chất của xứ này và cũng không practice theo họ cũng như khi thấy những người VN khác, không theo đạo, mà ùa ạc quà cáp là mình thấy khó chịu. Mình làm như vậy không được vì đó như ép mình giả dối với chính mình. Không biết ngoài mình ra còn có ai có quan điểm tương tự như mình không. Nhìn qua nhìn lại thì đa số ai cũng tham gia vào văn hóa quà cáp của người Mỹ. Why is it so easy for them to conform? Or is it just me with my peculiar resistance to total assimilation?

Mình nghĩ 2 năm của graduate school về intercultural studies đã thấm dần vào trong tiềm thức, cách suy nghĩ và phân tích những khái niệm về bảo tồn văn hóa/phong tục trong một xã hội đa văn hóa như ở xứ này. Cultural identity is so salient and yet so malleable. Perhaps that's why i am so ferociously protective of it and strongly resisting conformation.

Note: Những gì viết ra ở trên là viết theo kinh nghiệm và quan điểm cá nhân. Your (opposing) point of views are strongly welcome if there is any.

Mistakes are inevitable.

I know that much is true, but I still hate it everytime I made a mistake.

The fact is, I have been making a lot of mistakes lately. GRRRRR! The worse part is...all these mistakes are work-related.

I am doomed.

How many time should I be hating myself for making all these mistakes?

Digging up the old Yahoo! Photos, which has been forgotten for a few years, I found these...

Just in case I haven't disclosed my ethnic affinity, I am a quarter Chinese in relations to my mother's side. However, due to multiple displacements from the original lineage, I hereby admit the lack of knowledge in things related to my Chinese heritage, particularly the language itself. Two scattered semesters of Mandarin in college didn't carry much weight to adequately reclaim my roots that could be traced back to the long line of blood-related relatives in China.

My maternal grandfather was born and raised in southern China. During the 1930s political turmoil and while he was in his late teens, the great-grandparents decided to send him and two male cousins across the borders to Vietnam, perhaps to avoid military draft. The emigration details are very blurred because my grandmother and mother have never fully disclosed the historical backgrounds of his life. Apparently, he ended up working as a blacksmith in Rạch Giá (very southern of Vietnam) where he was arranged to marry my grandmother whose family also emigrated to Vietnam from China decades ago in the late 1800s. Many years later, after the separation from my grandmother and his children, he moved to Sài Gòn and supported his living with the sole expertise in blacksmiths.

Okay, that would make me 1/2 Chinese, not a quarter.

Mom grew up speaking a Chinese dialect known as Tiều Châu (siew chaw?) but only to my Chinese grandmother. It was their secret code for serious discussion of serious matters that would more likely affect the livelihood of the entire family. Hence, my Chinese grandfather had always been at a distance to his grandchildren due to the language barriers. He had never managed to learn proper Vietnamese throughout his life in Vietnam. I remember when he moved to our house a year or so before his death, we often found him standing tall looking down at us younglings and smiling very warmly, but hardly communicate anything. We giggled whenever he said something in Vietnamese and I guess it eventually made him self-conscious of his ability. We were kids, and ignorant, we didn't know better.

I still don't know much about my grandfather but there were a few memorable stories I still keep about him. First, he was an opium addict throughout his entire life, prompting from his youth in China perhaps during the Opium War (my educated guess). During the seldom occasions of his visits, he would retreat to his own corner and burned little black pearls of opium sap on a teaspoon and hastily sniffed the black liquid through a glass straw he always carried with him. It was very bizarre, but as a child, I was fixated of his addiction-feeding act and found it intriguing.

The second memory I had of him was the vivid moment of his death. It was the summer of 1987, and my grandfather had lived with us for almost a year after selling his property in Sài Gòn, then moved to Vũng Tàu for my family to take care of him. He had been gotten ill and my parents anticipated his passing but never expected the way he died. I was 10 at the time but very responsible for all the chores at home, including the assignment of checking on my grandfather. Basically, I was his personal attendant. One bright morning when my younger brother and I performed our chore of transporting water from the well to the house, as usual, we kept it quiet while grandfather was in bed. After the first or second trip from the well, we both discovered my grandfather's lankly body hanging lifelessly on a rope that was tied to the top of a wooden staircases.

He hung himself and ended his life with a single loop of rope.

My brother and I stood there for a few minutes, both were shock at the horrible sight. My brother was 8 at the time, and I bet he didn't know much. I remembered he turned to me and ask "sister, how come grandpa does not stand on a chair?" and that's when I noticed the chair lay horizontally on the floor, skewing away from the the vertical alignment of where his body dangled.

Many years later, on different occasions, I still think of him and particularly about his death. It was unfortunately that I didn't get to know him nor was I given the chance to do so; I was too young to understand the importance of family heritage at the time. My trip to China in 1999 was merely academic, but on a very personal level, it was a tribute to my lost heritage and to my Chinese grandfather. It was certainly emotional.

My mother had tried to find the off-springs of grandfather' cousins in Sài Gòn but to no avail; they were all disbanded during the years of political turmoil in Vietnam. Rumor has it that there were some of them who have immigrated to the U.S and dispersed around the west coast, and the other scattered to nearby countries in Southeast Asia such as Singapore and Hong Kong. There goes another generation of displacement.

So many of you out there with the Chinese last name "Lâm", you are my long lost relatives.

I want to cry tonight for no particular reason. Don't worry, I am fine and perfectly sane. It's just one of those temperamental moments. I am sure some of you got a few of those passing by your days. Perhaps it's the mood swing, or maybe because that abysmal pain I share with my bestfriend still viciously linger. If neither one of those could explain the mood, then I might have to contribute this sudden surge of tears to the mushy episode of cải lương I watched on HTV a few hours ago.

Talking about Cải lương, oh boy, I used to fervently detest these cải lương dramas as I grew up watching my parents watching them. My open opposition has now returned to haunt me. Little that I knew, the curse is on me.

Now you can feed me with more mushy stuff, such as those tear-jerking, time-wasting and yet addictive Korean melodramas and cải lương as the antidotes for my idiosyncratic inclination of emotions. My mother always said "lấy độc trị độc" as to use poison to cure poison, a figurative of speech, not literally. Maybe with more of these mushy stuff, I will be inverted back to the original pre-temperamental state.

Whatever that is, I am weird in my own eccentric way.

I don't like to receive bad news because bad news create distraught. But bad news do come around, once in awhile, just to stop me from my tracks, from whatever pace I was on...to remind me that life is precarious.

If I have the power to undo certain things, I would. If I have the power to protect and prevent certain things to happen, I would. Unfortunately, I am just a human being without the supernatural force to reverse bad things to happen.

Can't think of much right now...but will be back to write in details.

It is starkly cold in my office; I have the space heater on at the maximum setting but it doesn't seem to work. As much as I hate to bundle up in layers, because layers make me look fat, I forced myself to wear stockings and 2 undershirts with a heavy wool turtle-neck sweater on top. Yet, I am still cold and looking ridiculously fat. But it's okay, I'd rather look fat but feeling warm than trying to be sexy and be hospitalized for hypothermia or frostbites.

I am operating on a 5 hours of sleep today, not very pleasant, is it?

It took an hour for the shuttle service to bring me home from the train station, isn't it ridiculous? Finally, I am home, very thankful! New York City was windy and cold, but I had a good time nonetheless. Obviously, besides slaving for work, I had a good dose of tiramisu, some phở, wonton soup and noodles, and a damn good bowl of butternut squash soup (still craving for more!).

This tidbit is interesting, while spending my time in NYC, Luther was with me everywhere. Apparently, the hotel lobby loves his music and they blasted his voice all over the place. At a restaurant, they had Luther on intermittently along with the holiday jolly tunes. I loved it; I love Luther. Could never get enough him. Rest in peace!

It is good to be home; warm and cozy. However, I am alone at home tonight, he is with his class having a field trip to Wall Street tomorrow. Lucky them, they got the opportunity to meet the big shot at Wall Street, and having breakfast too.

Listen to this, I worked the whole weekend and still have to be at work at 7:00 am tomorrow morning. Believe it or not? well, believe it!

While I was away, the white stuff visited the place again; my car is fully covered in snow but I am too tired to shovel and sweep them off. It's okay, I will do a quick job tomorrow morning before going to work.

Dang it, I am hungry.

Motivations -- where are you?

Seriously, I need someone to come over and crack my brain up, because it seems like I can't function at all today. So many projects, no source of inspiration to get them done. That is so bad, isn't it? Am I the only one feeling low on energy today? Or is it sort of universal? My best flaunting skills for today is "yawning" and I am so damn good at doing it. One contributing factor to this ceasing of active energy is due to the insufficient amount of sleep lately. I am back to my nocturnal self again, just like the way I was during my years of graduate school. For the past few nights, I often got onto bed around 11 pm, sometimes earlier than that, but ended up being so wide awake and tossing around until I was restless. By the time sleep hit me, the clock ticked to 1 or 2 in the morning. That's only 5 to 6 hours of sleep each night. That vexes me a great deal, transcending into distress too.

Off track and veering away from the nocturnal, I am going to New York City again this weekend, actually, I am leaving tomorrow? Can't wait to get those yummy tiramisu into my mouth. Drooling for its softness, indeed. The Millennium isn't a bad place to rest for 2 nights. This weird thought just occurred -- something about nice and fancy hotels makes me feel so compelled to write something dirty. Hmm, "dirty" as in term of dirty streets full of trash in NYC in comparison to a clean and upscale hotel; it's not the other "dirty" you are thinking of. I got'cha, didn't I? Mind-teasing game is a powerful force, isn't it?

Let digress a little bit, anyone has any wonderful plan for Christmas season? I don't have any except for the regular routine of driving back and forth between the office and my humble home, with a treacherous mountain notch that scares me this snowy winter. Perhaps I have traveled way too often from September up until now and the thought of getting on a plane and or driving in crazy traffic isn't too appealing at this time of the year. But a short trip to Boston isn't too bad, especially when a guest from FL is coming up to this freezing place for her white Christmas.

Oh, I do have a plan for Tết, the Lunar New Year, which falls on the weekend of Jan. 29th. Guess where will I be that weekend? That's right, the lovely land of ten thousand lakes. My mom is very smart (she is my mom, what do I expect?) and she lured me with all kind of promises about the Tết celebration, mostly about food as she knows I have a tender heart when it comes to packing cholesterol into my veins. Perhaps I should have a diet plan, starving myself from now on until Jan. 29th and start binging on the food I have been craving for. Self-indulgence is difficult to moderate sometimes.

I am still feeling neurotic even after all these clueless rants. Yuck!

Q: What do you call when two people, both are hardheaded, walking around the house without speaking to one another for 2 days?

A: Two stupid people.

Yes, we both are quite stupid, acting like little kids and refusing to call a truce to end our little squabble. The sad part is, I was the one who has been sleeping in the living room.

Actually, the futon was quite comfortable.

---

8:00 pm

Viết xong và vent xong cái phần tiếng Anh, trong lòng vẫn chưa trút hết nên bây giờ chơi sang qua tiếng Việt, xem viết xong có hả dạ hay không.

Hai ngày đi ra đi vô chẳng thèm nói chuyện với nhau. Chán chết nhưng dù sao vẫn còn giận, chả thèm nói chuyện xem ai thèm ai. Mà có giận như vầy mới biết là thương nhau đến cở nào tuy 2 cái đầu cứng cỏi không ai chịu thua ai. Một đứa ở phòng khách thì đứa kia chui vào bếp (that would be me), một đứa ở phòng đọc sách thì đứa kia lấy xe chạy vòng vòng (that would also be me!) Không biết mình có nhỏ mọn hay không? Thây kệ, it was not my fault, không phải lỗi của mình thì không chịu thua, ngang hàng xung chiến tiếp.

Trong cái giận cũng có cái hay, ví dụ như là hôm qua có thời gian một mình chui vào Barnes & Noble tìm sách đọc. Đi qua đi lại cái hàng Bargain mà chẳng thấy có cuốn sách nào bắt mắt. Lọ mọ tìm đến mấy cái magazine racks thì chả còn tờ báo People hay U.S. nào trên kệ hết. Thì ra các cô cậu trong tiệm cũng vào đây đọc miễn phí ba cái báo lá cải giẻ rách về tin tức thời sự các cô cậu tài tử ai bỏ ai như mình. Hot news of the week là Jessica và Nick bỏ nhau. Like I care, duh, I expected this a long time ago. Cái con quỉ cái này ngu như bò, ăn cá tuna hộp hiệu "chicken of the sea" mà nó hỏi chồng nó chứ cái đó là cá hay là gà. Ngu hơn bò! Mấy con quỉ này không có ăn học đàng hoàng, hát thì cũng chẳn ra hồn gì, chỉ có ngực căn tròn, mông chôm chổm trong mấy bộ quần áo thừa dây thiếu vải, lên TV làm dáng làm duyên mà tiền bạc vô túi nó ào ào. Vậy mà cũng được rate là woman of the year gì gì đó hai ba năm trước. Chỉ có ở nước Mỹ này mới có các con quỉ như nó được lên hàng ngưỡng mộ hơn bà Hilary Clinton. What a superficial society!

Ừ thì cũng là hôm qua, vẫn là trong tiệm sách, đi vòng vòng cả khối sách mà cũng không biết chọn cuốn nào hay thể loại sách nào để đọc. Đi ngang qua mấy cái rack của classic mới được reprint với giá dưới $10, đưa tay sờ mó, nhặt lên để xuống không biết bao cuốn, cuối cùng cầm lên một quyển dầy cộm chắc là cả 1000 trang tựa đề là The Brothers Karamazov của Fyodor Dostoevsky. Đọc sơ sơ cái synopsis thấy lạ vì bao nhiêu lời khen của các nhà văn sĩ hiện đại nên tìm một gốc chui vào nhâm nhi thử mấy giòng. Nói thật, đọc xong introduction, vô đề cả 5 hay 6 trang vậy mà chả hiểu, chả bị thu hút chút nào. Đúng là mình cũng ngu, thiếu chiều sâu với mấy cuốn classic như vầy, đặc biệt là mấy truyện được dịch sang qua tiếng Anh, đọc thấy nó sao sao ấy, không có gì glue mình vào được. Phải khâm phục những ai đã đọc qua cuốn này, vì thấy nó quá khó hiểu, nhiều thứ miêng mang mà mình không đủ khả năng để xâm nhập nó. Cuối cùng thì lọ mò đến gốc cook books, tìm được cuốn "soup bible" kiếm cái recipe cho butternut bisque. Cuốn sách này có cả recipe của phở nửa, nhưng không giống cái recipe của mình. It's so Americanized, chán chết các bác nào cho nó vào mà không làm nó authentic để rạng danh ẩm thực Việt Nam của tôi.

Hôm nay vẫn còn giận, nên chạy xe đi chợ mua lung tung các thứ linh tinh, về nhà làm một lược ba bốn món. Nào là cá chiên sốt cà, cá kho tộ, làm cải chua, nấu butternut bisque (mấy tuần nay thèm cái này, lạ!) Bây giờ đang ngồi đợi nồi nước muối nguội để ngâm cải. Chiều nay chạy đi chợ VN, cái chợ này bán hàng mắc quá trời, cái gì cũng lên giá so với cái tiệm ở Springfield. Đúng là "mụ ni bán mắc khắc ngặt mới đến mua" chứ thường thì chạy xuống tiệm kia cách 30 phút mà đồ rẻ lại tươi. Chết tiệt cái ông chủ quán tiệm này. Tuần sau ổng dọn cái chợ củ kỉ xiêu vẹo về nơi khác, rộng rãi và thoáng hơn, không biết ổng có tăng giá lên nữa không. Đúng là monopolize cả market thiệt!

Ôi, thế là một tuần nghỉ xả hơi đã hết thời hạn, ngày mai phải vác cuốc đi cày, ngán quá! Tối nay chắc sẽ vào giường mình ngủ cho thoải mái, ngày mai đủ sức đi cày.

-/-

Update lúc 10:30 sáng ngày hôm sau.

Hôm qua đúng là miệng đầy lửa, hold a fire in my mouth, dùng từ ngữ văn chương uncivilized quá. Bây giờ đọc lại thấy hơi ngại. :) Xin lỗi nếu đã offend ai đó nếu ai đó cho Jessica là thần tượng của mình.

Once in awhile, I resented my parents for not giving me a sister -- just ONE sister and it would be enough. I know, it's not inherently their fault for not being able to produce another set of XX chromosomes after my birth but still, on occasions when something struck my cords, I resent them for not trying hard enough. Actually, I take that back, they did try two more times but failed to genetically manipulate and cultivate the necessary production for doubling the X. Hence, the end results are not surprisingly atypical -- I have 2 younger brothers trailing after me. It wasn't entirely a catastrophic experience growing up with 5 boys but there is always something amiss in the totality of my childhood that eventually transpires into the occasional resentment towards my parents. It's like having an internal void.

I do admit of my jealousy, or rather an envy, towards other people who are fortunate to having sister(s) in their lives. Wouldn't it be nice just having the two of us, leaving our husbands and boyfriends or mates at home, and flying to a nice location, California perhaps, and just getting a crazy sibling bonding vacation? Or, in other scenario, just chit-chatting with her over the most mundane snippets of life just for the fact of having sibling bonding moments regardless of which direction the world orbits around us at that given time of the day.

I fancy...and fancy...and fancy these moments. Yes, it is me who is having this impossible dream of having a female sibling. It might be a foolish wish to hold on to...because my parents are in their 60s and unable to fulfill my wish, but it is just a simple wish I have had since the early age of 4 or 5.

I keep on fancying my entire life for something that would never exist.

*hic* *hic* *hic*

Does anyone here emphathize with me?

The Vietnamese students participated in VariAsians, the annual cultural shows organized by most of the Asian student organizations on campus. I showed up to support my girls...it was a wonderful and colorful night.

One thing I wish I did was to wear my áo dài but none of them fit me anymore. I have gained a considerable amount of weight and have outgrown the nicely fitted áo dài I own for many years. Nonetheless, I had a great time.





Here are the performers, prepping up for their show.



A mock post of the end.

( More photos here )

1. High school reunion

When was the last time have you attended your high school reunion?

One of my high school friends found my work email and invited me to attend our 10th year reunion which will be held in Minnesota next week around the time of Thanksgiving. It dawned on me that it has been 10 years; I am getting quite old looking at how these past 10 years has brought a lot of changes in my life. Unfortunately, I am a little bit underfunded to afford this trip and have to decline the invitation. However it would be nice to see some of them again...I am sure most of them are married and having kids by now.

2. Weddings

Not mine, mind you!

A good guy friend of mine sent me a powerpoint announcement of his wedding (seems like a trend in Vietnam nowadays) which will happen next Tuesday, November 22nd. What a great news for him; finally he has found his woman to share the rest of his life with. Another mutual friend messaged me on YIM a few nights ago asking if I knew about it and then boldly suggested that I should prepare for my wedding as well. What he was trying to imply was that at my age (29), I should think about having a family instead of being a bachelorette before it's too late. He has a good intention and I know he cares about me, but what cracks me up is the way he imposed the Vietnamese point of view about how women should get married before climbing the hill to certain age or else, they will become "old maids". What he doesn't know is that I am defying the traditional Vietnamese norms.

Another gal friend is ringing her own wedding bells too; the date is set for May of 2006.

I am projecting that mine would be in July 2007, in case if anyone cares :) At that time, I will be 3 months shy away from being 31 and wouldn't mind being a stay-at-home mom to take care of my kids and dedicate my time to the family. It's a noble job to be a stay-at-home mom if you ask me. My mother did that for the first 6 years living in the U.S. and I am grateful for her sacrifices.

3. Holiday breaks and plans

I always run into problems planning trips for the holiday breaks. Most of the time, my reasons would be either money or time. Ironically, for this year, it's the money. Yes, I am paying a shit load of student loans for both of my undergraduate and graduate and it's not fun seeing the pay check going into many different venues to keep up with all the basic living needs. This is so pathetic! It's a sign that I am forever living a frugal life unless I hit the jackpot and or win the lottery, which is more likely not going to happen because I don't gamble and or buy the lottery. Maybe I should, huh? My boss gives me a whole week of paid holiday/vacation off next week for the Thanksgiving break. With having not enough doughs in my pocket, I will stick around and clean my apartment, vacumn all the dirts, freshen up the bathroom, scrub the kitchen floor and put away my summer clothes.

He got a part-time internship with the Feds for the winter break in Boston which means we have to be away from each other for one whole month of brutal winter. ONE WHOLE MONTH? Good for him, not good for me. So yes, similar to my Thanksgiving break, I am not going anywhere for the Christmas break either. Perhaps I will use that time to catch up with work and read applications. If any of you happen to travel to the area, please let me know...I will certainly host you! (I have an extra bedroom)

This chronic coughing fit is more excruciating at night when I desperately needed ample hours of sleep to make up for all those early wake-ups this past week. Earlier in the day yesterday, one of my office staff witnessed the incessant chronic pain I suffer from coughing. She then suggested a home-made remedy of which she read from a random magazine sometimes in the last century. The rudimentary regiment for this home-made remedy is to rub a thick layer of Vicks, the over-the-counter cough suppressant and topical analgesic, on both of my feet and wrap them with winter socks. I was skeptical at the time but my desperation to get some good night sleep called for a desperate attempt to actually make it happen.

Just when I was about to wrap the socks around my feet, he came home to tell me that a Chinese classmate suggested a traditional Chinese remedy. It was a simple remedy with just a few steps -- cut a ripe pear into 3 or 4 pieces and boil in water, simmer on low heat for about 30 minutes until the fruit meat is soften and extract the juice to dilute with the boiling water. Once the liquid is thicken, pour it out onto a bowl then sip the remedial concoction slowly while it's still warm. Simple? He made a trip to Stop and Shop, brought home 3 ripe red pears and 6 stalks of lemon-grass upon my request.

Then my mom called; I couldn't hide my coughing while talking to her because the freaking chest was gripping my lunges too tight I couldn't breath normally. The motherly nature of hers began to reproach me with the oh-so-typical lecture "you don't take care of yourself, you work too much, you don't eat right, I told you to do this and you take it lightly...etc." I love her for every single bit of her motherly disapproval of the ways I have taken care of myself. It's all about love.

My mother often used this one line to sum up her point whenever she wanted me to be healthy, she would waste no time to remind me with her legitimate mantra, "Mẹ sanh con ra nguyên vẹn, không bệnh tật rồi nuôi con lớn khoẻ mạnh như bây giờ, bây giờ con không lo cho sức khoẻ của con thì uổng công Mẹ biết bao nhiêu." If I could loosely translate, she would say "I gave you a healthy and wholesome birth, with no illness and raised you to be as healthy as you are now, if you don't take care of yourself, then you have wasted my efforts." My heart wrenched in excruciating pain with total guilt.

I obliged to her recommendation, search the fridge for 2 fresh stalks of lemon-grass, a handful of young ginger-root, some lime zests and then boil all of these items on the stove for 20 minutes to make a "xông hơi" pot or home-made sauna. I didn't forget to drip into the pot a few droplets of green mint oil to optimize the sauna effect. It's a typical Vietnamese home-made remedy for respiratory problem, it helps to perspire the "bad" sweat out of the system and allow the lungs to restore its normal function.

So there I was in my living room at midnight, my feet were tingled with Vicks as the ointment began its service and heating up the tender skin at the bottom of my feet. While waiting for the pear concoction to reach the final phase of its simmering, I covered myself under a thick blanket with the sauna pot placed directly under my face. At this wee hour, I was desperate to try anything, to take any measure easing my pain and thus, using two home-made remedies simultaneously and praying that both would work inclusively. The sauna was actually taking its effect immediately; I perspired profusely, hoping to excrete all the "bad" air out of my system as mom suggested. The pear remedy was about to ready by the time I finished the sauna. It wasn't bad at all -- everything was therapeutic.

I woke up this morning, the pain subsided, the cough was more sporadic. It was either the hours of sleep I received, or the remedies...but I felt a whole lot better. If the remedies worked, then I am still unsure which one was more effective than the other. However, in all consideration of taking different measurement to the restoration of my normal health after this one week of coughing hell, I called my doctor at 8 am, pleading with the nurse for a same-day appointment. I was lucky to get a 1:15 pm slot.

Tonight, I am packing my suitcase for another trip to New York City.

-/-
2:49 pm
Doctor update

Seriously, I spent more time waiting for my doctor to check up on me than the time she actually used to diagnose my conditions. Sitting there in the room, surrounded by many metallic equipments, chills running up and down my spine in the only gown they gave me. I felt so naked and vulnerable. Well, good news, I just have a mild viral infection and need to be on antibiotic for a few days. The doctor guaranteed that if I keep my body hydrate with lots of fluid, vitamin C, and lots of sleep, then I will be fine in a few days.

For $15 bucks, my bought myself some peace of mind. :) Now I don't need to worry about having bronchitis.

My weekend has been filled with lots of working hours. I am completely drained. :( Last night was tough because I was responsible for the lives and safety of 35 young women who flew in to visit the campus this weekend. The whole day was strenuous and I didn't get home until 11:30 pm at night. My brain was desperate for a recharge, just for a few hours and there I was, tucked away under the blanket at 6 am, trying to push the sound of my annoying alarm clock out of my head. But unfortunately, I was also responsible for getting fresh bagels and muffins and other breakfast delights to feed 35 hungry stomachs. It took me an hour to gather an assortment of breakfast items and by 8 am, I was at work. Bright and early. There is an soggy feeling I carry with me since 6 o'clock this morning...didn't feel like my normal self. On top of that, my coughing pattern has become more chronic. I need to check in with the ER later tonight after I get out of work at 8 pm.

I have a pathetic life.

Now I am taking a break from work while the students are touring the campus. With two sleeping bags in my office, I decided to camp out a little bit, catching a cat nap before the next event.

I have a pathetic life.

I took the day off from work to tend my sickness and spent the rest of the day on my comfy sofa doing nothing.

It's a great feeling!

-/-
8:00 pm

I got bore from idling around in the living room all day, coughing chronically from one episode to another. Finally, I found a solution to disband my boredom: cooking. Within half an hour, I garnered enough ingedients to turn them into a nice dinner.

I love Basmati rice.

-/-
10:00 pm

I am suffering from a massive migraine headache for 5 hours. Five freaking hours with constant pounding on one side of the head. No matter how many glasses of water I gulped down since early of this afternoon, the migraine does not go away.

This shouldn't be happening...it defeats the whole purpose of taking day off from work to recover from a bad cold.

Helpppppppp!

Home at last...
...at least for a few days before packing my suitcases once again for another 2 weeks on the lonely roads.

I had originally planned to wait for 21 more days to chop off my hair as a bidding-farewell ritual to another year of age. The plan didn't last long; I lost my keen patience after two long weeks struggling to upkeep the thick layers of my long mane on the road. It was too time consuming when I had little time for maintenance. As of 7 pm of October 10th, I let the hair stylish liberally chopped 3 to 4 inches off. I am so ready for a change. But seriously, I do feel a lot lighter, like dropping 3 to 4 pounds of fat with an instant diet regiment. It's a good change; I need it anyway!

A little more about my travel...

Cincinnati was a beautiful city, at least with its urban landscape including seven hills and a river cutting in between the borderline of Kentucky and Ohio. My hotel located on the Kentucky part of the city and I commuted via the bridge to get to Ohio every day. It does sound quite a distance, but only took 2 or 3 minutes with clear traffic. Not bad at all. Except for the first day of my visit, Cincinnati was covered with a heavy overcast for the rest of the remaining days, in which I have previously written. However, the rain somewhat casted a quaint glow of romantic ambiance over the city, misty enough to show the autumnal beauty. Nonetheless, I couldn't wait to get back to New England for the true autumnal sceneries. It always reminds me of my love for Boston and other memories from my first year living in New England.

My god-sister and her husband took me on a city tour, complete with the adventure to the conservatory of lush tropical green. Then we went through a few neighborhoods, both the inner city for a glimpse of the slum and the houses on the hilly golf courses that classified social statuses of the occupants from those of inner city. It has been three years since the last time we saw each other and I was lucky enough to have my Saturday off, completely free from work and other work-related commitment. Oh yes, good news, she is pregnant and expected to have her first child next June or July. I have to admit that seeing her with a good marriage makes me want to get ready for mine. This might sound crazy but I have been thinking about it quite often, more than I should have, during these past few days.

Maybe I need more than a hair cut; I need a real change.

I know if the photos are not posted any time soon, they will be soon forgotten from my blog's limelight. It's late at night and I need to get some beauty sleep so no time for a lengthy write-up. These are just a few photos of New York City, mostly about me and my hotel room on the 41st floor of the Millennium Hotel in Time Square. These were taken while waiting to meet with an associate for dinner and having nothing to fill the gap of time.


Hotel room taken from the entrance's angle.




This room has an Asian theme.
Details of the duvet -- imprints of Chinese character.
I have no ideas what they are and the enclosed meanings.




I was really cam-whoring myself with the self-timer option and showing a little bit of my spunks while trying to show off the plasma TV behind me. Isn't the kid in the commercial adorable?




The bed was truly comfortable. It's the Heavenly Bed similar to the ones at the Westin Hotel. I couldn't help to to be more self-absorbed.



This is the total eclipse of self-absorption.
I am practicing narcissm to its full length. *wink*
That bed was lovely and comfortable. I wish I have one at home.

Hôm qua là một ngày lạ.

Lạ theo kiểu out-of-ordinary lạ. Lạ vì công việc tiến triển suôn xẻ hơn mình tưởng tượng. Lạ vì hôm qua mình cảm thấy mình bắt đầu yêu New York hơn các lần khác. Lạ là vì mình chạy vòng vòng từ Upper Westside xuống Greenwich rồi sang Astoria như một New Yorker thứ thiệt. Lạ là vì mình nhìn các ngôi nhà cao tầng chút vút lại nhớ và thương các cầu tre lắc lẻo ở xứ sở sông Cửu Long của Việt Nam mình. Lạ vì mình cảm thấy mình làm được một điều gì đó có ý nghĩa cho xã hội, dù không lớn lau, không hoành tráng, nhưng cũng đủ để thay đổi cuộc đời của ai đó.

Nhiều điều lạ.

Ngồi trên chuyến xe lửa chiều, khởi đầu từ New York city về Springfield, trời chiều tỏa ánh nắng chiều vàng cam, ông mặt trời nhìn như một trái cam thật chín. Những hàng cây, đồng cỏ, ruộng bắp còn xanh xanh màu hè. Nhớ Việt Nam da diết, muốn khóc, con tim nhói lên đau đau. Không biết mình muốn gì. Không biết mình thuộc về nơi nào. Ở đây thì nhớ về bên ấy và khi ở bên ấy thì nhớ về nơi đây. Con tim sao nhiều chuyện quá, sao đòi hỏi nhiều quá? Nhìn những cánh đồng cỏ, mình mơ màng cho đó là cánh đồng lúa ở quê nhà. Nhìn bờ ao xanh đầy bèo, mình mơ đó là bèo rau muống.

Mơ nhiều quá, mộng nhiều quá, chỉ làm khổ chính mình.

Còn 3 ngày nữa là về thăm nhà. Gần 8 tháng không về nhà, không biết bên ấy có gì thay đổi, có ai nhớ đến mình không, có ai nhắc mình không? Tự nhiên viết đến đây, muốn được ôm mẹ làm nũng.

Can you still be spoiled at the age of 29?

If there is only one item I need to post as my one and only new year resolution, it would definitely be "keeping up with friends". I just don't have the "talent and skills" to make it happen although I think about my friends constantly. By saying constantly, I mean that almost everything from my surrounding would trigger some sort of memories, then one thing lead to another, a memory of a friend came up in my head. Consequently, I feel guilty every time things like that occurred.

Do you know what makes me feel more guilty? It is when a friend whom I haven't been keeping in touch for so long suddenly sending me an email out of the blue to ask for my health and well-being. I am totally washed over with guilts. Guilty of all charges!

It happened last night.

His email was short and succinct, with a couple of updates scattering here and there, but at least he let me know the ups and the downs in his life. But it carries a lot of meanings; it means he still think of me. Sweet reveries took me over with the memories of our 10-year friendship and the things we both shared. It has been 5 long years since the last time we saw each other. Wow, that's quite a long time, isn't it?

The email was a nice surprise; just a little mundane thing that could brighten up my whole day. And indeed, the weather is quite gloomy today with a heavy gray overcast.

My second shortcoming (out of many) would be the lack of efficiency in organizational skills. What I am referring to is the physical layout of my office. My other half told me that it is one of my "deficiency" and it must be fixed. It doesn't matter how many times I put things away in their appropriate places where they supposed to be, I've always ended up messing them up again when bombarded with a heavy workload. Case in point, I spent almost an hour cleaning the desk yesterday, putting files into files, and trash the trash. But as morning comes, and I get phone calls after phone calls, I mess up the desk again. I am covered with different files, notebooks, papers, plastic sleeves, work orders... It reminds me of a saying, something like "a messy office is a sign of productivity" or whatever that is to such effect. I am trying to make believe that it's a true statement.

(no I am not, I am just trying to deceive myself!)

That sure is a deficiency. Any tips for me to fix it?

• One small note to say that I had a good weekend. Now it's unofficially the end of my summer, which was short and somewhat sweet.



• I am a proud owner of this tropical lush, known as the corn plants thanks to Google search where I finally discovered its name. How much did it cost? I was lucky to grab it from Stop & Shop for under 10 bucks, which could be a little bit more at the typical floral shop else where.



• I spent two whole days trying to perfect my Phở Bò (beef Phở) skills and let me tell you, I did it!



• I love my new apartment.



• I hosted a few guests over the weekend and for sure, I am a damn good host.



• I donated, as always. Please make big or small contribution if you can!



• I have enough food and vegetable in the fridge that would last me for at least a week and a half



• There is a big dent in my bank account after the long weekend. About 3/4 of which went into food and other food-related items.



• My eldest sibling is getting married (or rather remarried) in December. I have to attend the event as he requested of my presence. Hmm, I wonder who is this unfortunate woman whom he is going to wed? She must be either blind or desperate.



• My mom has been on a cheery side of the world; I am free from family drama for awhile



• I am becoming a good chef; not great yet, but slowly and surely, I will get there



• Mr. Bush and his people failed me once again