In Albany

Got up at 5.30am to wait for breakfast at 7. Then was told that daylight saving had already set in, so it's another hour to go. Since when does daylight saving start on a Saturday?? Gosh have never been this hungry before.

Crisply cold morning deep in autumn. Fallen leaves, large cars, deep silence. Squirrels. And no more frizzy hair! It feels like it's all back to the right side of things again.

Broken impressions on 18hr plane ride:

1. I'll never like Will Farrell's style of humour.
2. Authentic leaders have to be somewhat spiritual. So what's the difference between a business leader and a spiritual leader?
3. Watched Dutch movie "Downfall" and was hopelessly confused with the faces and names of the Nazi generals. Was inevitably reminded of SJP. Movie was long and gory when the generals and soldiers start to commit suicide.
4. What is "shareholders' values"?
5. Singapore's survival odds can be hopeful.

Huan4 Cheng2

I realise that if I don't write this down then I'll never do that in a week's time.

Huan4 Cheng2 is... alright I guess. At least the first little parts, when the novelty of the names of characters and clarity of the manga-like scenes strike you. Manga-like because of characters with long, flowing hair and robes eternally blowing in the wind, deep sad eyes, emphasis on non-boy/girl love (in this case it's love between 2 very handsome brothers). The names mostly have 2 characters with the 2nd and 4th intonation respectively. I've heard of some kind of rule that character of the 1st/2nd intonation combined with one of 3rd/4th intonations sound nice. Probably that was already a rule in ancient poetry. Try it if you don't believe. And the names are definitely of manga-style, with more Chinese meaning in them. Not really meaning - more like an image and a sentiment. Well actually, the story is better drawn than written (illustrations for the book are amateurish manga characters created by the authors' friends). Apart from manga, there are themes, contents and style borrowed from LOTR and Gu3 Long2's (one author that I'd never like) "detective" martial arts novels.

As I said, the book at first did strike me a little bit. But later on the depression got too draggy. There are way too many phrases such as "standing still... regarding sea/sky... tears flowing over" that convey motionless despair, sadness, or loneliness. Getting sentimental is fine but over-exploitation of emotions is taxing, especially when those descriptions convey no new facts, and are indeed devoid of meaning once the poetry of Werther-like addiction to sadness has been exhausted. Later on I was skipping over all the descriptions to get to the ending, which is supposed to have made many girls cry. And what is the ending? Hmm I can't even remember. Something like everybody died. No wait, the younger brother didn't.

Today:

11:00am - Took company shuttle. Left island for pre-departure meeting.

12:05pm - Was 5 min late for pre-departure meeting.

12.30pm - Was waiting for people who are 30 min late for pre-departure meeting.

12.40pm - Waited for boss to finish another meeting before pre-departure meeting.

1.15pm - Proceeded to pre-departure meeting lunchless.

1.30pm - Had snack bar given by boss.

2.10pm - End of pre-departure meeting. Got a lift to BV MRT.

3.30pm - Took shuttle to go back to island for 1hr.

5.00pm - Left work on shuttle for home.

5.10pm - Realised left itinerary folder from pre-departure meeting in office.

5.50pm - Got home. Had dinner. Packed.

6.30pm - Left home to catch 7.30 shuttle back to office.

6.45pm - Got onto MRT

6.50pm - Realised train was going in the wrong direction. Switched platform at Dover.

6.51pm - Dashed through closing doors. Shoe was trapped but retrieved eventually.

7.00pm - Arrived at JE. Shuttle was not in sight. Panicked.

7.03pm - Shuttle came. Was regarded with surprise by colleagues who got off.

7.30pm - Retrieved folder. Left island.

and 11.30am - Tried to check in online.

12.00am - Still trying.

12.15am - Going to bed without checking in. Will wait to be condemned as low-efficiency person tomorrow morning.

Corporate craziness

Standard operating procedures, messaging and measuring success, authentic leadership... enough corporate craziness.. but what are you talking about? You haven't started yet!

Will need to pay for own hotel and domestic flights through trip. Tried to increase credit limit today but was refused for being too new a user. Horror of negative numbers in account when I get back was brought home. That'd give mum some proper anxiety, on top of me asking her for lunch money. But later found out from supervisor that credit card bills only come a month after - apparently another piece of common knowledge that I've no idea of.

Slept on bumpy bus, dreamt of broken names and images. Hopefully will still get to sleep tonight, especially when I'm starting to feel terribly hungry. Should really have bought that tub of lychee ice-cream.

The Norwegian Wood

RZ says there's a Buddha in everyone. Which inappropriately reminds me of what DX said recently, that there's a suicidal nature in everyone. She was explaining why "the Norwegian Wood" made a superstar out of Murakami Hikaru among youths. I read the book on a plane ride to California from Syracuse on a summer day. I was gripped by the surreality of the scenes in the book weighed down here and there with concrete, day-to-day type of objects and actions. It felt as though the whole world is melting into whiffs of despair, but there are still the little normal things existing without a doubt, binding you down to stay living. And the book conveyed music. I imagined what would happen if, after all that'd been done, SY went jumping off one of those bridges. It was safe to imagine that then at the beginning of a nice summer holiday to the west coast. Ironically, if SY had heard me describe the book, he would have brushed it aside with his first hand knowledge of chronic depression. Anything can become a routine, and it's with this that depression loses poetry. And so the music in the book goes out of pitch when daily quibbles set in.

Quidam, etc

Caffeine + AC + too much laughing = headache. When will I ever learn?

Have just finished reading Sophie Kinsella's "Can You Keep a Secret", popular romantic novel with pink cover and heroine finding rich, sexy and loving boyfriend at the end. The story is far-fetched. Bridgett Jones is better. First saw the book on sale in famous bookstore (forgot the name) in Berkeley Collegetown. For some reasons thought it's more than a romance novel. Later, during the frenzy of graduation packing and dumping, I saw the book, among loads of other novels with bright pink/apple green covers and titles printed in gold, in the paper recycle bin outside the laundry room. Was already up to my ears in books being packed, but still picked it up and shipped it back. How crazy!

WK asked me why I didn't write about Quidam. Why? I guess it's mostly because I didn't understand the show. And I never felt entirely comfortable judging anyway. Halfway into the show I realised it's just a circus. Chinese circus used to do contortions, plate-twirling and kicking of huge Chinese-vases. Then they adopted a different style to compete for international acclaim. So on New Year celebrations we've seen guys with sculpted bodies performing various stacking exercises in synthesized background music (no more 九九艳阳天). We (my parents and I) kinda tend to skip those items. Now they sort of take on some new significance.

Well I guess ultimately though Quidam is a good show. There are some hair-raising moments (for getting emotional, not for fear of the safety of the performers) of pretty formations and stirring music. And the satisfying thing is that they brought it into reality the feat of balancing bodies on ropes and silks - an act I thought most intriguing after I've read about the way 小龙女 sleeps. How cool it'd be to sleep like that! (ok yeah I know sleeping is different)

Today had second disaster with microscrope. Fit on 20x objective (the same, ill-fated one with minimalistic working distance). Put on quartz slide. Realised platform was too low to reach the working distance. Tried loosening and raising platform. Platform was stiff. Tried further. Raised platform too high such that the objective cracked the quartz slide. So gathered glass splinters and called supervisor, who was most kind and said "It's ok" with an emphasis.

RZ said I overuse the word "kind" on people, such that she can't distinguish who are the real kind ones. I guess I value kindness for fear of punishment, a mentality inculcated by mum (not trying to find fault here). Mum herself wants kindness above all else. But most of the time her ridiculous tenderness towards people only makes herself vulnerable. So I sometimes just go over the top for independence. A balance is necessary, like in all other aspects of life. Yeah like it's real easy. But I hope I'm getting better. How to still heartbeat and curb rising panic 101. The IP trip might just be the present solution despite having to stop practising erhu for 1 wk. (ok RZ's gonna accuse me of writing in opaque style again; but really, what else do non-judging, confessional type of blog-writers write about except boring own lives principally concerning mums?)

Strategise!

Identify and categorise mum's actions:

1. Warped logic regarding general things happening at large - Type N
2. Warped logic/deep prejudice regarding things/actions/relationships close/relevant to/done by me - Type M
3. Sublimed emotions regarding injustice done to herself (self-pitying expressions) - Type V
4. Sublimed emotions regarding my wrongdoings (false accusations) - Type W
5. Sublimed emotions turn into "reasonable motivations" when she calms down (secondary meanings) - Type S
6. Sheer repetitiveness (nag) - Type R

Original own response:

1. World view/Principles offended. Defend just for the "rightness" of it.
2. More deeply offended. Need to defend friend/relatives/own actions, etc. Frustration for lack of understanding.
3. Vexation and annoyance.
4. Teeth-gritting frustration. Violence.
5. Feel cheated - if she had meant good then why... Feel fear for not being able to guess secondary meanings.
6. Vexation and annoyance.

Strategised own response:

1. Identify type and not be defensive.
2. Identify type and not be defensive.
3. Say sympathetic remarks as far as possible. Or just listen.
4. Try to clarify in a way as if I'm on her side (This is an art). Or just listen and apologise.
5. Hardest to deal with. However, this type is an aftermath of violent argument. If violent arguments can be prevented by doing 1-4, hopefully we won't come to this. However, try not to take in/believe the rational truths she tells, or not believe in hope that she can have consciousness of self, because it'll confuse me with the other frustrating statements, and diminish my ability to identify the types correctly.
6. Identify type and not be defensive.

Underlying mentality needed (not in corresponding order):

1. Be ready to admit when I'm indeed in the wrong.
2. It's always easier for the younger person to give face to the elder.
3. She's pitiful. Nobody else talks to her. And she's foolish.
4. Real injustice has been done to her.
5. She does care.
6. She has changed somewhat.

Additional actions taken in times of peace:

1. Be obedient.
2. Say pleasing stuff.
3. Buy to bribe.
4. Arrange activities (tough tough tough)

Gosh... what if after I've tried everything... I wouldn't even be proud of myself if this worked. Cold hard hatred? No no no, you've gotta treat every experience as a positive one (bullshit). You'll learn and learning is always cathartic and good (yeah right). After all... you have to get what fun you can savage from crap... you really do...

Something worse than falling out with mum

My shower towel has a hole in it, torn after getting caught with my earings. The hole's getting larger, and that feeling of something nice getting robbed of me is returning. You can't find a towel like this in any US supermarkets. All they sell are silky, flower-shaped bundles that are hard to grip and impossible to reach the back. The ones sold in Korean grocery stores have different grades. The one I'm using is supposed to be patented. Both mum and dad love it. The material gives a delicious tingle to the skin. I guess if I want another one like this I really might have to go to Jo's store in Anchorage Alaska. I can just go during semester time, when Jo's safely on the East Coast, and her mum's unlikely to recognise me. If SY reads this, I guess one more appeal doesn't hurt. In any case he likes giving surprises, so I don't mind having a dozen shower towels suddenly delivered to my doorstep. But I think he doesn't have my address. Well to tell the truth the ones SY brought from Korea weren't even as good as my present one.

So fuggedaboudit. Or I can check out Korean grocery stores in Singapore. Where though?

Family Counselling

RZ advised me to go for family counselling for I might be under emotional abuse. (I know of one by the name Feiyue which frequently goes on TV. It's just around CCK.) Abuse is mutual. Actually not really. In practise, I don't think I'm abusing anyone. Being harsh, yes, but not abusing mum - yes I do believe that.

Oh well it all started with my being sick and mum trying to find out reasons for it. She was against my meeting the kid on Saturday. In her opinion all those who approach me are gonna exploit my knowledge and help. "Who do you turn to when you need a friend?" she likes to say. In truth I actually don't turn to many people. But that's a different point. So I say we had fun talking. And she says that's why I'm sick all over again. Ok. Point taken. But can't help being invariably vexed with her finding reasons. Just feel as though she's finding fault. Sure. So falling sick is my own fault. I tried to tell her, my wish had been that she would kindly try not to emphasize this point while I'm already down in spirits. And she would say then, "why shouldn't I emphasize? Look at yourself. All sickly and what others are going to think of you?" Guess her anxieties arise from the possibility that my company's going to deduct my salary and write bad appraisals once they found out that I'm sick. Just like a whole bunch of other employees that is. Together with her opinion on friendship and such, call that distorted world view if there ever was one. Extraordinarily distorted at that. But that's not a new point already. Mum turns into a hedgehog in front of the world. That makes it as likely as the sun rising from the west for her to go counselling.

Sigh.... vexation doesn't give true cause for counselling. With the little strength I had last night after taking cough syrup, I experienced the first episode of what we may call family violence in my silent home. From the topic of my illness and my protestations of mum always blaming me for things arose the issue of my refusal to let her review my bankbook. I said it's perfectly normal for everyone to want privacy. She said what is it that I have to hide that I can't even show to my own mum. I said it's not about hiding. It's just that I don't want to show. She said it's not a big deal, to explain briefly the statements, about which items I spent to what purpose. I said that's precisely what I don't want to do. And not even because I'm spending for dubious causes, but it's energetically improbable for anyone to explain each expenditure. I think she's feels too deeply personally hurt to understand the logic of my arguments. And I rather kick myself for having made them despite having fever and knowing their futility. And she said finally, that I don't have to be so scared. And she's not going to spend my money even if I let her check her accounts. Oh well I really don't care about money. When mum gets paranoid of dad and I leaving her in the ditch after mistreating her, blinding her eyes, etc, that's true cause for frustration. Mum went to bed in tears. Amongst her wailing were things like "Only my old mother understands the situation, that I don't have pension ..." (sentiments about grandma and grandpa always accompany the delude of self-victimising remarks.), "who did I come to Singapore for" and "you make me this angry and blind my eyes - I'm not going to let you go. I'll chain myself to your feet." Alright. I told her there was no need to sound so poisonous. And that her anger was self-induced and I wasn't going to take back what I said. The medicine was taking effect and I felt really drowsy, and so went into my room to sleep. Mum wasn't quiet naturally and stormed into my room, shouting what I might venture to call "abusives". I really needed to sleep for I was rationally afraid of a fever which lasts for more than a week. So I tried closing the door on her, but she was too fast for me. And I did something that I had never imagined I would. I pushed her. Immediately regretted once I did that. Mum is like the kind of fighter who becomes stronger in the face of stronger adversaries. So there were some messy body contacts and still couldn't get her out of my room as she clung to the wall with surprising strength and stamina. How childish, and gosh! how uncannily reminiscent of SY! Except that if I were half as strong as SY I could get my mum out of my room gently and without much fuss. Instead I quit and went to sleep in her room. She followed and upset some furniture outside. Not wanting to create a gigantic clatter I went back to my own room, this time in time to lock the door. What mum did next was banging on the door with palms. That lasted for a couple of minutes until I got out, all shaking and crying, asking her what did she want me to do. Then the phone rang. It was RZ. Mum picked up the phone and said, "she's not in." And continued to shout when I got the other phone. Asked RZ wearily if she's got a bedspace. RZ replied, "I've got a sleeping bag." I said I'll talk to her tomorrow and hung up. And mum, who'd been listening (of course!) was furious - if she could be any more furious already - that I'm revealing family feud to outsiders. Oh well, so much so for counselling, if we aren't supposed to do that. Shouting went on for a while more until I begged her to stop and let me sleep. Told her she can check my bank account, do whatever. Just let me be. The truth is, I don't know where I kept my bank book. So I couldn't even take it to mum to prove the efficacy of my decision. Mum didn't buy that, thought that I was being sarcastic. I lost temper and shouted something like "won't you get out". She marched up to my bed and tried to slap me. I fended that one off and stood up glaring at her. And then went into the living room, collapsed on the floor crying something like "why do I have a mum like this." Then nobody spoke. Mum turned on the radio in the kitchen at top volume. I called RZ awhile and let her contemplate about family counselling. Then I went into the kitchen just as mum was turning off the radio. I said sincere "thanks". Mum backed off from me as if seeing a ghost. So she's been traumatized and wants to look wounded like a rabbit with eyes wide open. Too bad. She's way too old for that sentiment to be romantic in any way. I went to bed. Silencio.

Ok. It's getting from bad to worse. The last time I'd been sick like this was June last year when I got back. Singapore had felt like a new toy then.

Met once again, in the form of veteran immigrant, a nice little Chinese girl yesterday from Tangshan. She's waiting to take A-levels in November. To my horror, she took out her first Math S tutorial and asked me to help her with the problems marked with asterisks. Despite a returning fever and the remoteness of RJ Math S in my mind, I managed to pull through most of them. In parting she lent me a book 《幻城》, 作者叫郭敬明。且看封套上的半自我介绍 （不知道这样摘录算不算侵犯了版权了）：

网络名：第四维 （the 4th dimension)

获新概念第三届第四届一等奖

出版个人作品集《爱与痛的边缘》 (One of the song by Faye Wong is of this name)

目前在上海大学影视艺术技术学院学理工和艺术结合的奇怪专业

性格一半明媚一半忧伤

对待生活消极又充满希望

坚信人性中甜美的东西, 可是依然沉溺于绝望之中

喜欢看电影睡觉和用四十五度角仰望长满云朵的天空

有清亮的笑容深黑的瞳仁以及看不见的忧伤 (本来想把封套上的照片拍下来showcase一下他清亮的笑容和深黑的瞳仁, 但照片出版的质量太差, 拍出来更加模糊不清, 乍一看像个犯人)

以前总喜欢叫自己孩子, 喜欢彼得潘因为他可以不长大

而在时光的洪流中, 还是悄悄地

渐渐渐渐 渐渐成长

I dare say he did describe pretty precisely some issues involved with modern intellectual/ brooding youths. But stuff like "unseen sorrow" is just too cheesy. If sorrow is unseen, it'd better be unspoken too.

再看看封底与他同一类型的作家给的评语:

苏德 (新锐人气写手): 通篇有种神秘的气氛, 慢悠悠地散发, 关于圣战的遥远臆想, 还有一种支离破碎的爱情.

周嘉宁 (新概念一等奖): 语言和故事都是一种空中楼阁.

张悦然 (新概念一等奖): 像是冰澈的溪水, 流淌在白色之上, 幸福之外. 它流经每个人的心灵, 我们所有人都能这样轻易地打捞起一个似曾相识的梦境. 琥珀颜色, 只属于我们自己的梦境.

And so on. 总觉得他们这些话说了等于没说, 东一段词汇, 西一个概念, 的确够支离破碎了. 算了, 不批评了, 把书看了再说吧. 虽说看它有种浪费生命的感觉, 但毕竟是人家一片好意借的.

SY once said that purity and innocence are different things. Through accumulated understandings I now take a pure person to be one who involuntarily believes in an ideal, and any deviations from the ideal in real life startles or disorientates him. Whether he has energy enough to cover the disorientation is another matter. But the immiscibility of his nature with reality is necessary to maintain purity. An innocent person is one who is not acquainted with facts, concepts and prejudices in real life which might bring him to a more general, integrated, albeit stereotypical understanding of the world. So with this I guess BX is pure but not innocent. Jo is pure and innocent. RZ's pure and still innocent to certain extents. SJP is pure and not innocent, but he's unlikely to submit to any kind of categorisation. Indeed this is rather limited to people who retained a large part of the childish self. Or, to me, an excuse to believe that loss of innocence and growing up is not the end of the world.

Enough rambling on a Sunday morning. No tuition today for exams are over. The kid asked me instead to go biking at East Coast Park - just as I got sick from exhaustion of biking last week. So not going. Instead will be good girl and drink plenty and rest at home, etc.

Sick and tired

Sick, tired and homeless
with no one here to sing for
tired of being weightless
for all these looking good boys

you can always say my attic has its charm
you can always say you did no major harm
you can always say that summer had its charm
and that you did no major harm
oh, spare me if you please

sick, tired and sleepless
with no one else to shine for
sick of all my distress
but I won't show I'm still poor

you can always say my attic has its charm
you can always say you did no major harm
you can always say that summer had its charm
and that you did no major harm
oh, spare me if you please

symptoms are so deep
something here's so wrong
nothing is complete
nowhere to belong
symptoms are so deep
I think I'd better stay here on my own
so spare me if you please

"It seems that the analysis of character is the highest human entertainment. And literature does it, unlike gossip, without mentioning real names." - Issac Bashevis Singer (writer of short story "Yentl, the Yeshiva boy", adapted into film by Barbara Streisand in 1983)

Somehow seems flawed but too sick and tired to think of why right now.

Book list

今天H2又发高论了。我跟他还有另外一个中国人在讨论中国近代文学和文学家，那第三个人觉得中国四十年代到六七十年代的文学作品都不能看，只有在文革之后 的小说才开始有些风格、深意可言。H2于是说，作家有三种，第一种用笔写，第二种用心写，第三种用生命写。第一种就是碰到什么写什么，流于小感动和小领 悟，就算放个屁也能写出一篇感想来；像现在中国被称为“八十后” - 就是八十年代以后出生的青年作家 - 那类型的作家就属于第一种。第二种作家如白先勇，能够根据自己的切身体会描述或呈现有新意，有深意，甚至于有哲意的题材内容，如果有才华写得出足够的笔力 的话，不失为好作品。第三种作家如海明威和托尔斯泰（曹雪芹应该也算吧，连李敖他老人家都承认他了），呕心沥血地不断探索，不断升华写作手法，技巧及所要 表达的人生主题。这类的作家太少，因为把一生奉献给一种艺术（或技术，这就包括了科学家了）的人无法对生命的别的部分付出些什么，所以注定要短命或潦倒。 我转念一想，这第一种用笔写的作家大有包括blog-writer们的可能，但也不觉得特别惭愧。

后来H2提到傅雷写给他儿子傅聪的家信，说这本集子值得一读。我说我读过刘墉写给他那在美国Styvenson High School读书的儿子的信集，觉得对他总教诲做人的大道理很反感。H2说傅雷是个翻译家，翻译过的作品有Anna Karenina，他儿子是个非常杰出的钢琴家，就是在英国留学读音乐的时候跟父亲通的信。傅雷后来在文革期间自杀了。我觉得这两人的名字很熟，就说， “我回家问我爸去。”H2听了笑个不停。我猜他肯定有个女儿。果然他说，“问爸，好！将来我姑娘也这么说。”于是说，“一般性女儿都对父亲比较崇拜，而儿 子则对母亲比较依恋。”H2承认。我看着这个高个儿，想象着一代代移民重复着的故事。

List of authors I should check up in NUS Chinese Library:
1. 王安忆 （《长恨歌》，或者先看电影也可以）
2. 张贤亮
3. 谌容
4. 刘恒
5. 冯骥才

Just realised I left N2 tap on all weekend. Then also realised all gases are shut off during weekends in October. Phew.

Biked yesterday at East Coast Park despite not knowing how to bike. Have tried learning on several occasions in the US but did not formally succeed. In the beginning had been road hazard. Scared kid skaters and was told off by an uncle, "This is the opposite lane you know!" And so retreated to spacious pavement for practice. The park was way too crowded for novice bikers like me, but the good thing was that there were too many hot ladies around for anyone to notice me. Got better and finally got onto the main road. With less people around, sieved sunlight, gentle breeze, I could hear music in my ears. Next time will be able to go on without wasting all that time. Grabbed handle with much force such that can't raise arms today.

Dad returned with a whole crate of fresh, ripe persimmons. I smelt alcohol at 2am and thought some fermentation must be going on in there. Alerted dad and found a layer of the fruits had burst and emerged wet and somewhat cubic in shape. Dad did the right thing this time, mum being lover of persimmons. Bad news = company extended dad's contract in HK by 1 month.

Gran Turismo sounds great on earphones. Is it my living room where I played the CD being near AYE? Or that we just can't fight the stimulation of senses by digital devices which enhance isolation and alienation in our experience of modernity?

Dad'll be back!

Tonight! Probably at around 1-ish. Couldn't sleep much last night due to adrenaline rush for weekend ahead, and have been jumpy and dangerously light-hearted all day. Need to look out; chances are that weekend'll be a big letdown. The trick is to breathe deeply and drink hot water (not tea).

Listened to Cardigan's Gran Turismo album this morning. The CD I found in SY's collection of the music that chronicled his life in Guam - rock album packed in the aluminum case with their jewel cases long thrown away. I like their first album better. The tunes of Gran Turismo are more catchy at first hearing, unlike those in Emmerdale, which got to me only after I've listened to them three or four times. The songs are captivating enough, and melodies are closer to being oriental; but the arrangement sounds a little too synthesized for my liking. Nina Persson doesn't sound as clear and sugar-kittenish as she does in Emmerdale, and sang instead with a drawl. Maybe that's her real voice. She sounds so much like Faye Wong in many of the songs. It's amazing. I still wonder where she got her American accent from. An American born in Europe? Or maybe she sounds different when she speaks? It is very interesting that Americans born and raised in other countries retain their accents perfectly. A hotel administration major who is (or was?) boyfriend of a Singaporean/HK girl in Cornell (Shanghai). My supervisor's boss (Laos). I've never known people from other nationalities who retain accents of their mother tongue. I guess everyone's just too eager to learn English. Anyway, can't wait to get back to US to download other albums of the Cs.

今天晚去上班一小时半，碰上新同事H2。那时等车时突然看见继DW之后第二个高个儿中国人，几天之间跟住金文泰附近的同胞们已经谈得很融洽；今天见到时他 倒也主动招呼，说因为去邮局设立电话线，所以也乘九点半的车。他在Penn State University做了五年研究工作，申请并得到过五项关于燃料电池科技的美国专利。谈到美国，就必定列出自己到过美国的那些地方作对话的导言。H2最 喜欢旧金山，而且跟我一样也是开车去的佛罗里达州。地铁到JE时他突然冒出一句，‘对美国的那种...philosophy其实我不是很赞成。’ 我忘了他说的是 ‘不是很赞成’ 还是 ‘非常不赞成’；前者听起来更象我自己的语气，在这里就姑且用了吧。於是他从自己离开美国的原因开始说起 - 他不想为这个国家再作贡献，不想自己的研究成果最后成为政治家强取豪夺的手段。这倒是我第一次听一个中国人活生生地以具体实例、个人体会来跟我分析美国的 强权政治。大体上是这样的：

(臭电脑，烂电脑，乌龟电脑，用个shift key就当掉了，弄到现在还不能用感叹号，真他X的见鬼)

美 国政府要为它的人民创造完美的家园，消费者的天堂，所以不想在自己领土上开采石油，不愿意美国人自己赋税沉重，所以就专门打其他国家资源的主意，用立法 院对别国内政随意立法，然后合理地进行经济制裁，以致石油产地不但不得不以低价售卖石油给美国，而且对别的国家仍然必须以高价售出。它能这么做的本钱是精 强的军力，这从二战开始就是如此 - 美国暴发就是因为发了军火财。

强取豪夺的结果就是美国人民都特别爱国，特别拥护爱戴政府，因为他们 基本上是政府喂饱的，有房子有车子，生活安居乐业。不符合这个典型的美国人 (这个典型就是说话粗声大气，要达到什么目的就说上前，但骨子里一片纯真，傻得叫人担心他一身两百斤肉的那种美国人) 有两种 (不敢打冒号了) - 穷人和自由主义者('libertarians'. RJ said she loved the word)。关于特别贫穷的阶层，照H2的讲法就是他们接受了自己的社会地位，美国人知道他们的存在，但不把他们等同于问题的所在，不排斥也不予帮助，所 以流浪的黑人继续流浪。他们不交税没关系，因为有关系的只有最有影响力的那一撮人，只有他们在作真正的贡献。他们的贡献就是绞尽脑汁儿地想法儿把别人的财 产夺过来，以维持美国世界强国的地位。至於自由主义者，我在这里将他们等同于不支持布什政府的普通人或文化工作者 (如Michael Moore) 或嬉皮士。前者似乎不是墙头草就是别有居心。H2觉得美国人随时都能投靠任何一个政党，而MM拍的电影似乎也有为赚取豪利而歪曲事实的嫌疑，更不用说美国 人无论什么样的表现手法都透着一种天真的、从没扪心自问过的思想 - 问题/价值观都是直来直往的，不是超级英雄就是坏蛋，没什么可混淆的。布什是坏蛋，直截了当，因为他干下杀人的罪行；但杀人为了谁，国情民情到底是什么样子的，美国人连西方哲学都懒得利用来解释解释。

我 以前有篇blog写过我自己对美国强权主义的看法，觉得美国政府做的是吃力不讨好的苦差使，弄得世界各地烂摊子到处都是，自己臭名昭著。因为它隐隐约约扮 一份主持正义的角色，所以我对傻傻的美国人有点同情。尽管知道主持正义最终总是为了私利，但还是因为它的手段太不漂亮而为它感到难为情。更重要的是，美国 给了我自由的生活环境、独立思考的经历、美不胜收的山水，这一切令我感激它，怀念它，尤其是它让你能够彻底呼吸孤身一人到处闯的乐趣，不需要依靠人的倔强 的喜悦。这是一个在美国的自由学生所经历的成长的喜悦。一旦开始在那里谋生活的话情况肯定不一样。

用中文打字累死人了，还得应付中文软件的脾气。但真奇怪，有好多用英文我永远不会说的话我能用中文说。用英文表达的情感是华丽和经过保护处理的 (self-protection mechanism)，用中文表达的是自然和不顾一切的。 该去睡了...

Mum again

Me: "Stomach-ache is getting better."
Mum: "Ok. Congratulations."
Me: "How is your day? Is anything the matter?"
Mum: "Well I've always told you whatever that I know. But there you are with all the deception about your insurance."
Me: "Hmm."
Mum: "The letters keep coming. I don't believe you just got one policy there."
Me: "You don't have to know about this. It's harmless."
Mum: "It's good to help you keep an eye on it when you are gone. Tell me the truth."
Me: "The average Singaporean with my income spends around 500 on insurance."
Mum: "Tell the truth: how many you've got!"
Me: "This isn't gonna work, mum, if you keep demanding me in this manner. You are saying it as though to a child, 'How many fruits did you steal?' I did nothing wrong. You're just gonna make me keep more things from you."
Mum: " "
Me: "I'm saying the truth, mu..."
Mum hanged up.

How pathetic it is to have conversation with no one else (supervisor not counted) but my mum for the whole day and then to have conversation ended this way. Called again to inform her that I'll go to NUS after work but phone was unhooked - familiar strategy. I console myself with the possibility that I might really get down to using records of such to compose mum's biography later.

Dad'll be back! And I'm guilty of making him brave mum's foul mood. Mum's not one who'd consider the "big situation", and is not going to sacrifice anger for peaceful weekend with dad. And dad might not even be on my side this time. Situation's going to get turbulent. And just with three people. What else to do? I haven't tried running away from home and have made no preparations as to where to go. Can't even go to lab since don't have bicycle.

This must be Cornell now.

Punggol (sounds like an alcohol... oops)

Talked to scary technician to get peristaltic pump tubing. Wasn't as scary as expected. Talking to anyone is a relief after having talked too much about SJP.

Went to Punggol yesterday, invited by a Shanghainese family to have discourse on the education system, overseas studies and the like with their kid. Was impressed by their living room on the 16th storey, which has windows taking up a whole wall looking out to Pasir Ris and Tampines. The view will be uninhibited until the new high-rises in the block in front of them get built next year.

Punggol's emptiness reminds me of Shanghai's suburbs. I guess it can be some sort of suburbs of Singapore. The station was empty. As the LRT train left curving rails behind from the MRT it rather felt like a mini tour. Everything is compact, new and cute, from the LRT compartment and platform to the flanking flats, especially with the architects' ubiquitous taste for amusement park colours. At stations that aren't in service, entrances are chained out. The train stopped briefly by and moved on after announcement of the station name. It was night then. Empty platforms, phantom shadows thrown onto train windows made the place suddenly un-Singapore like. However, with time even Jurong Island can feel Singapore-like. Un-Singapore like circumstances are ephemeral indeed.

The daughter studies in RGS going on RJ. She's of the first batch under the integrated program (IP), about which I made an effort to understand and failed. But it can't be that bad, with the dad, daughter and I sunk in creamy white couches, bathed in 16th storey sunlight and soul music - a gentle allure of examlessness. Right in these months too, when my orchestra hadn't had second erhu players for two weeks for they are all students. The girl is shy but interested; and has a taste for Evanescence, Sarah Brightman and Anne Rice, potentially emotionally intense stuff. She admitted that Sec 4 has been a thoroughly confusing year and learning has been somewhat haphazard and unfocused. Indeed, exam schedules aren't out yet, and the school nearly missed the deadline for the registration of O-Level subjects not under the IP (French, in fact). Instead, the year was of frenzied activities regarding project work, presentations, report writing and CCAs. Regarding the RGS confidence she developed for these non-textbook activities, I dare say IP has achieved its objective. If the objective has been cultivation of business professionalism. After all it ties up with the entrepreuneurship bit. On the other hand, this is just bringing forward a university education, characterised by bad-teaching, half-digested learning, confidence-cultivation through non-textbook experiences and cultural exposures (this is even lacking here). Thought it makes little sense to bewilder and hammer the youth with concepts such as "What is knowledge" - concepts that take a lifetime to explore and mature. Not sure if high school is good enough to start. Maybe it had just been me, who sucked at GP.