Reconnection

Yesterday I reconnected with an old friend. She is in her 80's and physically frail. We've lost touch for several years, but I had a very nice visit to her house. I felt a touch of sadness as I saw how much she had shrunken over the years but to my delight, she still possesses a very fine wit and a good head on her shoulders. In fact, over the course of our conversations, I started to feel like an absolute ignoramus, because I've had to shake my head ruefully many a times and go, No, I haven't heard of so and so, No, I don't believe I know who you are talking about. We exchanged book lists, her list being like 30+ book titles long, mine a very measly five. We also gorged on tea and candy and ham salad. Sometimes I lost myself in the food and would lose track of the conversation. We both bashed Bush with glee, because, let's face it, he's too easy of a target and he's just such a mockable man.

Last night, I went to pick up another a friend, this one considerably younger, since she's my high school buddy. We went to a thai place and ate at the bar, feeling like women about town. Then we went to watch The Holiday. I would have to say, the movie was great and very fun. I would watch it for Kate Winslet and Jack Black. Jack is my new favorite male actor, he has a great smile and very wicked eyebrows. Of course, Jude Law still oozes smoldering hotness with the barest of efforts. Cameron is now getting on my nerves with her strangely blinding smile that pulls her face 20 cm too wide. But did I mention Kate Winslet is amazing? She resonates warmth, believability, and a beauty that even sunshine girl Diaz can't really match.

Today I went to Church and was strangely fascinated with buttcrack girl. This skinny shrimp of an Asian girl walked down the stairs in front of me wearing her pants at half kilter. I'm sure her butt is cute by most male standards, but buttcrack? Ugh....that was a sight that made my eyes sore.

Delivering lectures

I guess it's true that parents do rub off on kids. When I was a wee girl, I still remember Mom driving sis and me to karate on friday nights. En route to karate class, the two of us would be sitting in the backseat a bit groggy from our afternoon nap and my mom would be rattling off lectures one after another. I don't know if she followed a whole syllabus, but I'm sure we got a whole course on life 101 through the program designed specially for such commutes. It's perfect see? There's no escape routes close at hand and we either tune in to Station Mom101 FM or we glaze over as we idly gazed out the window.

All this is just to say, I just spent a good couple of hours talking on the phone and before I knew it, I was rattling off lectures (quite passionately) I might add. I've had this experience with other people too, and because I'm normally so reticent and as this blog can testify, so succinct with my verbiage, I can only conclude that the art of lecturing has been passed on to me from mumsie.

Ha...it's now way past my bedtime and I should probably discuss the subject of lecturing at a more decent hour. Tallyho mates and off to bed I go!

babble babble rouse and rabble

Jin tian wo qi lai de shi hou, wo de xin qin te bie hao. If you don't know what that means, welllll....as the great Dr. Cox would say, how many different ways can I express that I just don't give a damn!

Yesterday I was in a strange mood, all crazy paranoid. As I got ready for my play last night, which by the way, was a very fun play titled Beaux's Strategem by George Farquhar and adapted by Thornton Wilder, I wondered with a melancholic air whether or not I would meet with a tragic death on my way to the play, since I was going off to our national's Capital at the ungodly hour of 8 PM at night. Maybe it was the book Norwegian Wood that got me too caught up in thoughts of death and tragic demises, although in that book, none of the deaths were by any means accidental.

So today, I woke up a different animal altogether. I feel like sunlight has entered my soul again and that I can face the world without fear. So long as the sun's up I guess. In celebration of my fabulous mood, I splattered on some shade of pink from a gloss I purchased most triumphantly from The Body Shop just two days ago. I thought it looked passable in the yellow hue of my bathroom lighting, but when I got into my car and checked it again against the bright morning sun, egads! My lips have mutagenized into that horrid entity otherwise known as BUBBLEGUM colour. Terrible, it not just offended my aesthetic senses, it absolutely clobbered my aesthetic senses unconscious. But even an utterly hideous shade of lip gloss couldn't cap my good mood today and so here I am, gabbling at length.

Last night's play was a delicious surprise. I got a call at about 5 PM asking me if I wanted to go see a play. It was so last minute and though I don't readily admit it, I am a person who likes to make plans. But then again, I checked my social calendar and found to my surprise that I had a free evening so I agreed most agreeably to attend.

The play was a raunchy and absolutely ridiculous romp. Rogues, tramps, highwaymen, and drunks ran amok. The most fun of all would have to be the married Mrs. Sullen who has a first rate wit and a very droll accent. She says "my dear" like "mai diyaaaaa." She is unhappily chained to another carcass in unholy matrimony as they put it and eventually is won over by the dashing imposter and money hunter who of course falls in love with her. The whole thing ends well for everyone, as befitting a comedy. Add to the mix a fat old lady whose sole dream in life is to amputate people's limbs, and you've got a strange but lively combo indeed.

Anyway, forecast ahead, four glorious days of nothing to do, Tuesday being a day of mourning for President Ford, as decreed by Bush. How could this soul not be happy?

Norwegian Wood

Last night I stayed up until 3 AM to finish Norwegian Wood, one of my Christmas gifts. The novel read like a memoir and it was indeed the memoir of a 37 year old man, looking back on his college days. The man was in love with his dead best friend's girlfriend who was never fully able to get over the death of her boyfriend. The narrator also, gradually, came to fall in love with a different girl altogether, someone who is a completely different animal from the dead best friend girlfriend. Intertwined throughout the novel were various sexual exploits that the boy goes through, the sex was mostly casual and treated with both interest and disdain at the same time, much like my attitude towards it admittedly.

I thought what permeates the novel's overall tone was one of existential angst. It was not hard to see what triggered the protagonist's disinterest and lack of motivation towards life. His best friend, at age 17, decided to smoke up the exhaust pipe from his car, with unsurprising results. The novel's forward momentum is characterized by the boy's gradual and very rocky ascent towards enjoying and truly appreciating life once again. In the mean time, the book also reflects to some degree, the general sense of malaise and discontent that is the lot of human beings when they regard their lives, at the same time, I think it also uniquely reflects the Japanese post-modern society, their disaffected youths, their desire to find meaning in life but somehow, never quite going up the right alley to do so. One of the most interesting characters in the novel is a woman in her late 30's, who suffered multiple mental breakdowns and lived for almost a decade in a quiet commune designed for psychologically unstable people. They live a structured quiet life in the countryside, trying to build stability both in their lives and in their mind. People who recover eventually leave and rejoin society. There is an interesting contrast between the respite offered by the commune and the crazy frenetic energy that is Tokyo. On some level, the author is perhaps saying that all of us need a break from TOKYO (or NORMAL LIFE) as we know it and just coast for a few months or years in a soothing nondemanding environment. This novel, written in 1987, presages the now common and ubiquitous belief that we human beings are STRESSED STRESSED STRESSED, so many busy milling ants running around, picking up loads too heavy for our bodies to bear. I sometimes wonder...is modern day stress exacerbated by the very fact that every pop psychologist and their mother are constantly berating us for letting ourselves be stressed? It's a vicious cycle and I'm completely digressing.

I read the novel quickly, I finished it in barely three days. I think at some point in the future, I will go back and re-read it at length, although, I wasn't too impressed with the translation, becuase at times it seems a bit choppy, but there aren't exactly multiple versions/translations available. I guess I could read it in Chinese and that will definiitely force me to go slower.

I have as of now, ten different books awaiting my attention. I want to finish them all in three weeks time. The Catch-22 is that if you read fast, you read widely but you read only shallowly. I want to read both deeply and widely and because I'm being somewhat greedy in this respect, I am also paid the friendly visit by our dear friend Stress again. Yes I am actually feeling a bit stressed that I won't be able to read all 10 books on my list in the time I allotted myself. I also fear I am going blind from reading so much. I shall end this post before I get completely mired in negativitiy. See? That's what reading existential angsy books do to you. They never leave you with a warm fuzzy feeling afterwards, rather, they pass on the malaise and discontent from their words to your eyes to your optic nerve to your brain and finally penetrates your consciousness. Now someone get me a happy pill, please.

My gifts

This year, friends, I had a good and quiet Christmas with my family. I also got tons of lovely gifts which I'd like to share on this blog. Here's a quick rundown.

1. A turtleneck sweater
2. A grey formal looking cardigan
3. A sexy slinky black lace top (from my Mom of all people!!)
4. A cute gold crinoline-ish corset top made for clubbing
5. Eyeshadow palette
6. Microdermabrasion kit (for the evil little things that are invading my face)
7. Beatles, a fan book
8. The best of U2's CD
9. Beads for my jewelry making hobby
10. A grey scarf
11. A fuzzy Dr. Seuss-like scarf
12. Two tiny porcelain bears, in granny wear
13. Beatles' Visit to America DVD
14. Norwegian Wood, a novel
15. Captivating, a book written by a pastor's wife for women
16. An amazon gift card
17. Cars, the movie

The best present I got this year though were a pair of stuffed beanie babies. One's a lamb and one's monkey and they symbolize my sister and me, in our eternal dorkiness. What a pair!

Merry Christmas all!

Lately since my sis's back, she rented a whole bunch of movies that I probably wouldn't have thought of renting, but some of them have turned out to be surprisingly good.

Shallow Hal - Jack Black is great in this film, good, believable acting, lots of fat jokes, I know at least one person who will be delighted.

Click - I had imperiously decreed this to be a one-joke movie, but I have to admit that it was surprsingly touching at some moments and I was definitely a bit too hasty with my pronouncements.

My Super Ex-Girlfriend - Garbage.

Tallegeda Nights - Mostly garbage, I went to sleep halfway through, I couldn't even finish the exciting ballad of redneck Ricky Bobby. I don't know if i'm just snobbish, but I'm so UNexcited by hicks. The whole Texan accent...ugh, what a turnoff.

Ahh, but I'll save the best for last.

The Banquet - I saw this last night. Feng Xiaogang is right up there with the other Chinese cinematic masters. The artistry was exquisite, the scenes were all dramatic, stately, and despite a certain theatrical distance, very emotive. Zhang Ziyi was convincing as a queen in love with the crown prince and power. She makes Lady Macbeth look like a bunny rabbit. Although the plot turned out to be slightly unbelievable, I would argue that the film nevertheless is still worth its weight in gold based purely on the actors, the characters, the artistic composition and the script.

Last night's dinner party was a resounding success. Mom has outdone herself once again and I think all our guests really enjoyed being at our house. Much as sometimes we bitch and moan about having to clean the house (okay, that would mostly be me) I guess I see the value of throwing parties too. It leaves others with a wonderful memory, and that, is the most precious gift of all.

Lesson from an actress

Last night I sat down and watched a Chinese program with my folks for about 15 minutes. The program was an interview of an actress in her middle age. They also showcased her many works through the years. The actress was born in 1949, a year younger than my dad, a year older than my mom. You can say they are all of the same generation.

Actually I was quite impressed with her many stories, over the course of her long acting career. She talked about one scene where she was to be slapped so hard she would literally be knocked to the floor, and that she was to overturn a coffee table in the course of her fall. Evidently Chinese cinema back then didn't believe in "faking it" and her male counterpart really had to give her a resounding slap.

So they filmed the scene and the actor delivered a blow to her face. She describes the sensation as a thunderclap on her left cheek, and she subsequently heard a ringing in her ears. She was knocked off her feet and her cheeks swelled up and immediately showed the imprints of the four fingers from the blow. She sat on the floor quite stunned and amidst the commotion, she heard the director say, "That was good, but we have to do it again! Because you didn't knock over the coffee table the first time." She put on a brave front, but she was quite understandably very distressed that she'd have to repeat this experience. So they repeated the scene and the guy gave her another brutal slap to knock her down, this time she said she was almost completely knocked unconscious, but during her fall, she maintained enough wit to remember to knock the coffee table over. The coffee table turned over, the porcelain and glass cups and plates fell over and broke to many pieces and she gashed her palm on the jagged edges of those broken pieces. So the actress recalled how she sort of sat there stunned, as she tried to fight off the encroaching blackness and when she stood up, she told everyone she was fine, while her cheek swelled up to unholy proportions and her hand was raining blood all over the place. She remembered walking to the side of the set and very suddenly, bursting into tears.

So what made this particular thing blog-worthy of course is not so much just her experience but my parents' reaction to it. First, they were quite riveted by the program, that was amusing too. Secondly, upon hearing this story, my mom turns to me and goes, "Yi qian de ren zhen de heng hui ci ku. Ni kan kan!" all the while, shaking her head in undisguised admiration.

Roughly translated, she said, YOU should learn to eat bitterness and like it, damn it. Okay okay that translation was a bit too rough. But that is indeed the subtext. My mom comes from a long line of hardworking, bitterness-eating-and-liking-it type folks. She and of course, subsequently, I, believe that nothing can be gained without the same or more amount of effort to be expended first. Something for nothing does not happen. One must work really really really really really really hard to get somewhere in life. Really really hard. Really.

Good friends, great food - this is my New York

Let me see…where to begin the telling of my glorious trip to NYC this past weekend? I went to NYC in great spirits, not unlike Borat as he heads off to America in a donkey-drawn car. As we approached the city, I looked around at the dazzling nightlights, tall buildings and bustling activity and took it all in with relish. My blood pressure may have rose a few notches as my anticipation increased.

As soon as I got there, I made my way down to Chinatown to meet up with Yoming and her small group holiday party. I walked into a Chinese restaurant with the cringe-inducing name of Dragon Palace into a roomful of boisterous Korean Christians. The next half hour or so was a whirlwind of meet and greets as I met a bunch of people whose names I shall soon forget. Thereafter, Yoming, Dave and I left with some of their more party animal friends to crash another party in Chinatown at a bar/lounge called People. A fitting name, because it was quite jammed with people, as we tried to make our way to the drinking pool and get our first swigs of alcohol for the evening. I was in the mood for partying but I was definitely not dressed for it. Like the dork I’ll never admit to being, I danced around in my sweater top and brown slacks and walking sneakers, knowing full well that I’m making every girl next to me look 10X hotter. Regardless, I had fun and partied it up with Yoming. She was really getting into the dance too, it was funny to watch how exuberant she was.

After that, we went to K-town to grab a bite to eat and stayed and chatted til 3 AM in the morning. We were kicked out of the store that we were at and went our separate ways after. Yoming and I proceeded to gab until 5 AM before reluctantly heading off to bed. That, my friends, kicked off my weekend in NYC with a running start.

Saturday, I went to the reception for my old youth pastor’s ordination. At the reception, I stayed a short while but got to meet and chat with lots of old familiar faces. It was cool to see my old pastor too, in his stately religious garb looking like he was at a graduation ceremony. We chatted briefly and took a picture together. I saw lots of people who came up from MD too.

Then after that, Yoming and I met up with one of her friends who also brought a friend. It was like a double date, with all girls. We ended up at a café, munching happily on fried snacks and sipping tea. Though it was my first time meeting with them, we had a fair number of things in common and the afternoon passed by pleasantly. Soon, we meandered our way through the crowds and the people, walked down Soho briefly, went through East Village and ended up at yet another Bubble tea café. We joked that it was the journey not the destination, since we essentially walked a thousand steps to end up at the same exact type of place we were at earlier. There Viola and Dave joined us and we talked yet some more until it was time for dinner. Yang/Huafie and George/Russell joined us there and we gorged ourselves on Malaysian at this place called Jaya.

The evening was spent at K-town, see a recurring theme here? Chinatown, then K-town, Chinatown, then K-town. We had some nice wine at a trendy 3rd floor café, again in a roomful of boisterous Koreans. Scanning the room, I’d say I saw more than a few of the hotter specimens of the male race, but I wasn’t there to pick up a man, I was just there to hang with my buddies.

Anyway, I did a little more of this and that before reluctantly saying goodbye to my beloved college hometown. Goodbye for now New York, but I will be back!

My spaghetti disappointment

We just had a holiday party and I was all gung-ho about my dish. I had Martha Stewart visions of everyone licking my dish CLEAN. I got up at 7 AM this morning to make 2 lbs of spaghetti plus tomatoe sauce and even a dash of basil. Despite the fact that I shamelessly advertised my dish to everyone I knew at the party, and everyone was good natured enough to take a small helping, I am still left with what seems to me to be a mountainous pile of noodles. =(

That's it, I'm never going to cook again. It's a disaster anyway, given the way everyone sort of gingerly picked at the spaghetti. I went over and took a helping myself and to my great dismay, found it to be NOTHING like I had imagined. Instead of hot steamy dish of pasta, it's this cold, lukewarmish pile of tangled dough. I guess it really is quite underwhelming.

A dream, a good deed and an anticipation

This morning I was sitting down to breakfast with my aunt. In between the gulping down of hot coffee and munching home-made cake, I declared with relish, "I have a dream to share!" I proceed to say, "Last night I had a dream of a big blue house. It was so big and beautiful. Except there were no doors to the house. You had to get really close to the house and then you can see the outline of a door. Then you can go inside but inside, there's lots of little rooms." My aunt looked at me and then her eyes sort of glazed over. Then there was a pause as she tried to come up with the appropriate response to such a boring, nondescript, utterly trivial and supremely meaningless dream. I went back to eating my cake.

Last night I ran around with a friend to buy stuff for a giftbag to be donated to Hearts for DC, a charity organization to distribute goods to the homeless. I couldn't believe how quickly things added up money-wise even when shopping at discount stores like Target and Kmart. We had to get gloves, scarfs, longjohns, hats, and daily toiletries. All of this of course is out of our own pocket, but luckily we are splitting the giftbag cost. Anyway, somebody should be pretty happy this Christmas, with all the brand spanking new things he's getting as well as the impeccable tastes that this fabulous lamb and friend have brought to the selection of such items. If I may say so myself, these things are not half-bad.

Weekend forecast - going to NYC, on my tri-monthly pilgrimage. It should be a good time. No wild crazy clubbing this time, it's just gonna be me kicking back and relaxing with my buddies.

i wrote more blah blah

I just sent out an update letter to my top choice for medical school. It’s the beginning of my personal “shock and awe” campaign against the admissions office. Wait..nevermind, we all know that didn’t turn out all that well, I better rename my operation. How about Mission Impossible? Hm..well so far all three missions impossibles turned out to be possible, despite the fact that you really had to suspend your disbelief, like a few thousand stories high. Well well, one can hope. Worst case scenario, I drop a few thousand stories and land in….Lewisburg, West Virginia! Hi ho silver.

I recently, like, 10 minutes ago, found out that the director for whom I had written my update letter to two months ago is DEAD. She passed away about a month before I sent my letter. They obviously did not update their website or inform their receptionists for that matter, because I remember distinctly calling the office and asking for whom I should address the letter to. I wonder if this is a cosmic joke on me or the secretaries wanted to be cruel to the applicants on that particular day that I called. I know, I’m not being a very halo worthy person right now, caring more about my stupid updates than the fact that a person has passed away. Still though, it’s not everyday that you find out you very earnestly poured your blood and guts into a letter addressed to, ahem, the beyond. I guess that explains why I got no response? Eh….I need Gilmore girls, I need Scrubs, I need mindless entertainment to distract myself from the annoying thing known as LIFE.

Going for the halo

I was chatting with my coworker the other day and she mentioned that she had finished all her Christmas cards already. I couldn't help but be impressed by her display of efficiency. I thought hard about my past Christmases...I usually expend very little effort, if at all. I would get gifts for people I care about and the buck usually stops there. I've even stopped getting cards for my family in recent years, let alone distant friends or acquaintances.

But this year, it's time to turn over a new leaf and bake the other side to a nice crisp hue. I'm going to be a golden girl this year. I went to the mall and I got two sets of nice Christmas cards. I drew up a list of people I'm going to write cards to. I also did some shopping to buy gifts for people, nothing too fancy, but just a little something to show that yes, despite my icy stone cold exterior, in there somewhere is a real live beating human heart! Gasp!

Okay theatrics aside, by now, if there's one theme you know from reading my blog, that one thing is that i'm always on a never-ending quest towards self-improvement. As long as I want to continually better myself on different fronts, I can't be too horribly off course, can I?

Only a coincidence, little Grasshopper?

Recently within the span of two days, I ran into the same reference three different times. It’s starting to be eerily familiar and strangely recurrent.

It started Wednesday. My coworkers and I were joking around in the late afternoon to pass the time away until we can make a getaway home. I made a comment about something. Another coworker immediately says, “That never happens.” A third coworker laughs and said, “Foolish grasshopper!” I laugh. No big deal.

Then yesterday, I went to Maryland, as you know and had my near death experience, quite a trip really. In the trauma clinic where the psychologists were discussing the pediatric patients, at one point, a social worker was rushing out to calm a hysterical mom on the phone and the psychologist quipped, “Run along grasshopper!” Strike Two.

Last night I settled down and rewarded myself with two episodes of Gilmore Girls after successfully completing a translation work I had promised someone at Church. In one of the episodes, what does Lorelai Gilmore say? “Well done, grasshopper!” Strike three.

I’m starting to wonder, as the poet in I heart Huckabee’s what the significance of grasshopper is in my life. Perhaps I need to find a pair of husband and wife existential detectives to find out how this pertains to me on a deeper, more cosmic level. At the very least, is there some sort of show going on right now where it’s grasshopper this and grasshopper that, so everyone is suddenly quipping the same exact reference?

This grasshopper remains confused.

Visiting Baltimore

Today I took off for Baltimore to visit the school that is at this point, my number one choice. To kick off my wonderfully exciting day, I was hit by a car. Yes, you read that right. I had just gotten to Baltimore and had parked. I was trying to navigate my way around the campus to meet up with my tour guide for the day. As I was crossing the entrance of a garage, a car that was going in suddenly stopped and backed up. Meanwhile, there I was, absorbed in reading the map and walking my merry way when I didn't know what hit me -- Literally. It took me some nanoseconds to realize that a car had just attempted to make me roadkill. Fortunately, I'm a big girl and the car wasn't going fast. I think I bruised my elbow and knee a bit though. I was probably more stunned than hurt, but I glared at the driver with the famous Emily withering death look. I was thinking to myself, I so could sue this person and make his life living hell. Instead, I just walked off, as I didn't really want to turn this incident into the next Days of our lives soap drama.

Anyway, the next few hours quite compensated for that unfortunate incident. I went first of all into the school's health sciences library. It was so new and brightly lit and just absolutely fabulous. I thought that nothing would be more wonderful than to have the privilege to study there. I know, the thoughts of a tried and true nerd, what can I say? Then my gracious host showed me the hospital and I swear, the interior decor reminded me more of a mall than a hospital. It's starting to go the trend of, we are so pleasant, don't you want to be here? There are shops, a promenade, a display of reindeer and santa claus and just some spectacular arhitecture going.

The coolest part of the day however was attending a trauma clinic with my host. He's on his child psych rotation and trauma clinic is basically a meeting where psychologists and nurses and social workers and med students get together to discuss new patients and admits. The things that I've heard today...I swear, no child should ever have to go through. Unfortunately, these appear to be common phenomenons for the urban poor. things like drug addicts for parents, being shuttled to relatives' houses, being sexually abused, being chronically neglected, violence, etc etc.

In short, I left the campus today more convinced than ever that I really really want to go here...I just hope the school can pick up on my friendly vibes and send on over some positive reciprocal vibes. =)

Roast Lamb

This sheep is roast and toast my friends! =( I just went to lab meeting today, innocent as a sacrificial lamb. At the meeting, the boss was making some announcements and then very casually mentioned that we would be having small RNA club this coming Wednesday. That's fine and all, since we usually have these exciting affairs every two weeks or so. My boss and lab get together with another lab at NIH and explore the wonderful world of small RNAs. Usually my job is to sit back, relax and stay awake.

However, my boss, again very casually, mentioned, "I was thinking of letting Emily have a go with presenting her stuff." I was listening along pleasantly, not paying too much attention and then my meandering thoughts came to a screeching halt. What?? Me?? I looked at her and squeaked, "RNA Club? Me?" She nodded and smiled. I laughed, like, haha, surely you are joking, dear boss. She stopped smiling. She turned serious and she goes, "well, i just think it would be beneficial for us to take a look at some of the conundrums we're facing with this project." Gulp. I just looked at her. I didn't say anything, hoping that my refusal to utter one more word will somehow let me slide out of this one. I turned over to my steaming cup of tea for comfort.

After our lab meeting was over, I went over and very hopefully asked, "Are you sure about this? Because I don't think I have enough to present yet." She very jovially responded, yeah! of course I'm sure. And with that, my heart sank and I trudged heavyhearted away back to my desk to sulk about the fact that I'm about to be bound, gagged, and roasted alive before the scientific tribunal. RIPPPPP, there goes my leg. Crunch, there goes my shoulder. I will be torn to shreds!!!!!!!!!

Okay, i'm just being silly. It won't be that bad. ha. hahaha. now if I can only convince myself of that.

if you don't hear from me ever again on this blog, well, you will at least know of the sad demise of emily the roasted lamb.

Die Hard with a Vengeance 5

Last night I went on an adventure with Bruce Willis. When I woke up this morning, I immediately thought that I just HAD to write this one down, for, when was the last time I had a dream about Bruce Willis?

In my dream, we were all trapped in a different world. The only way back to Earth was to go through a dangerous prison. The prison is literally like a maze, and inside, wonderful world of loonies, crazy inmates and dangerous felons roam freely. Courageous hardy Bruce apparently didn't mind accepting this mission of leading a band of wimps back to Earth through this most dangerous route. Perhaps he didn't realize that HE would be doing most of the hard stuff. So he walks up to the gate of the prison and just opens it. I was there with him and I peeked inside for him. A couple of deranged looking people floated by. One burley tattooed man leered. And then....a seven foot Goliath, ugly and meaty, lurked somewhere in the background. Bruce Willis and I immediately stepped back, ran behind the door and kept it ajar. I knew his plan. He's gonna hide behind the door and as soon as the first bozo tries to come out, he will slam the door in his face. Unfortunately for Brucie, the first person to come out was the 7 foot Goliath. I was hiding in another corner and I tried to warn him. I put my hand high up above me and I mouthed to him, "VERY TALL". He nodded firmly, undeterred from his plan.

He slams the door at the key critical point. Goliath got slammed in his big toe or something, but Goliath nevertheless remained standing and was NOT happy. Suddenly, go figure, Bruce was face to face with the Goliath, but now there is a metal door in between them. Bruce did crazy stunts like putting his hands through and mocking the Goliath to try and catch him. Goliath also tried to put his hand through the bars, but ended up getting stuck. He kept up a series of roars that made me quake in my pants. I was not feeling too optimistic about our mission at this point.

Then the next thing I knew, I saw Goliath down in a hospital bed. Bruce Willis had challenged him to a burger eating contest and one of the burgers got stuck in Goliath's esophagus. They had to pump his stomach. Poor thing. Then I woke up.

Then I realize it's 12 PM and I COMPLETELY missed church while I was in the thrall of re-enacting my version of Die Hard. Oh well...blame it on the moon, what can I say?

My new stomping ground

Rockville is not a city that has instant name recognition. In college I used to tell people that I'm from Rockville, MD. I usually get one of three responses. A. The cheerleader routine: a blank face, followed by a forced grin as one "recalls" where that is. B. The Jerk: blank face, then outright smirk, "is it even on the map? is that cow country?" C. Stoner - blank face and complete noncuriosity. I eventually figured out that no one had a clue where I was from. I think some people, the foreign students particularly, even had some trouble pinpointing where Maryland is on the map. But I forgive them, for they know not what they are missing.

This week is an exciting one for me. Why? Because my friend, Rockville has recently opened up a brand spanking new public library smack in the middle of the future urban town center that will be downtown Rockville. The grand opening was on Wednesday night, but to avoid the crowds, I chose to pay a visit on Thursday night.

My was it a beauty! I walked around the temple for books in awe and appreciation. When you walk in, there is a 60 foot floor to ceiling wide open space. There is a winding staircase that leads you to the second floor. On the walls are carved the immortal words by famous people long dead who proclaim the joys of reading. One quote I remember in particular is, "Outside a dog, books are a man's best friend. Inside a dog, well, it'd be too dark to read." Haha, funny right? Appeals to my sense of corniness.

All the furniture are light polished wood, gleaming and pristine. The computer stations for teens are these futuristic setups, with eggshaped chairs and media hub. The whole library is spacious, bright, high ceiling, plush carpets. I never thought being at a library would feel so luxurious. I noticed that many of the books were also brand new, not just old recycled stuff from other branches.

Besides the fact that I'm a lover of books, I think this also bodes well for the future of Rockville. It means that the city is on the path to riches, the city is expanding and the population is booming and maybe, just maybe, one day I can say I hail from Rockville and not have to see a sea of blank faces stare back at me in befuddlement.