My last sociology paper is turned in and my mind is utterly empty... The kind of emptiness that echoes in the dark. Even now, with my hands clicking away on the keyboard, hoping for things/words/inspirations, I hear nothing.

The presentation tomorrow is under control; the modern dance is choreographed and ready to go!

For the fear of working alone, I'm going with Maria tonight. If I didn't fear working alone, I would also work tomorrow. The guilt of looking at my dad until he bought me the beautiful coat means thinking twice before asking my parents for other extravagances. Thus... my own little visa... thus money... thus work.

How could I ever hope to be a writer if I can't make trivialness magnificent? That's what great writers do, they make air irresistible, while I can only dramatize drama. I should tell you about the crack in my Christmas mug that mysteriously appeared three weeks ago after I begin to rely on it for drinking everything above room temperature, and how it extends halfway down the middle and halfway through the side. It is permanently stained with what could be coffee, tea, or chocolate... but mostly likely none of the above since it can't be scraped or licked off. Also three weeks ago, I realized that who I thought had given it to me didn't give it to me; and thus it no longer is what it was because what it was was the heart of a person, not a slanted crack on the side of a cup.

That's the end. Promise. :)

Minutes before what could be my last departure from Houston for Thanksgiving break, definitely my last departure from Rice. Xiao Yu A Yi’s whole family is going home with me. It’s about time. After four years of intruding upon their family and shamelessly leaching on their generosity, it is time that I play the host and pay a little back… with my mom’s fabulous cooking. I don’t know how I would have survived that second year without them… in fact, I’m convinced I wouldn’t have.

When in Vogue, one must read between the pictures. Untrue to popular belief, the words are not there as filler to texturize the clothes. No, the clothes stand on their own, and the words moved me to tears one Saturday morning.

"She doesn’t know yet that clothes don’t make the woman, that contentment doesn’t arrive from the outside, a special sweater to put on that will change the way you feel in the world. She doesn’t know that she’ll get there a different way, to contentment: by following a long path she can’t imagine right now. In fact, she doesn’t know much at all. It’s a good thing she’s going to college."

There is a moment in Sex and the City that gets to me EVERY time… when Carrie says to her friends – what if I had never met you?

What if I had never met you?

It is laziness on my part that I would rather click a link and read a blog, rather than pick up the phone and dial a number. I just hate playing catch up. There are blog moments everyday that couldn't possibly be recounted elsewhere -- when listening to Enya and cramming Pilates journal, when giggling at corny jokes on the back of taffy (or am I giggling at the look on Maria’s face when I read these corny jokes), and when economically squeezing in shopping/studying/making money into the next 48 hours…

My biggest charge on my credit card – Carnival Cruise, here I come! Oh I can’t wait till March… So many things could happen in three months… such as my six-pack abs and Madonna arms. Hehehe

My last cell test ended today. As I was signing the honor code, in between scrambling through my brain for the effects of M-Cdk on mitotic spindles, I stole a second to remember my first biology test at Rice. The sunny day four years ago, walking out of Keck reassured that I would survive Rice, and buying a purple mechanical pencil from the bookstore to treat myself for a week of... if I remember correctly... chemistry test, calculus test, then biology test.

The act of remembrances is important. It proves both the brevity and the permanence of time, does it not?

Remember the two smiley faces drawn so carelessly, yet imprinted so deeply. They have one thing in common - me. mmm... Such silliness. :)

Second haircut this semester! I love short hair, I must say. I think I have looked at myself a total of 5 times in a real mirror (glass reflections don't count) after the cut and before I clipped it back, and I liked it 50% of the time. That's not bad for new hair... Note to self, no more layers! I'm so much happier without. I have picture of two adorable hair styles with heavy bangs. Oh how I miss my bangs! They were such a source of security, something I could hide behind. Maybe when I'm feeling brave, and have no more interviews...

Thursday passes me by, along with the chance to do laundry and going to the gym. I make peace, and might spend some quality time with the TV instead. The weekend awaits, after all...

It seems that my favorite color has been diluted... to pink. Have I also been diluted? Perhpas it is just the trend of the season, the mood of the year, and as red condenses back, so will the rest of me...

Sigh ...

A deep deep sigh at the end of a long long long week. The ups and downs that come and go, without warnings or predictions, leaving no traces except in my cursed memories. I wonder what Tara is doing. I have been thinking about Tara a lot lately, wondering what wise words she would offer me. I think I would argue less with her now, and understand more, my stubborn convictions thinning with age.

Certain flows of words should not be untapped, because once the cork is popped open, they take on a momentum and truth they don't deserve.

Thank you Michelle for the cute card and beautiful words. How could you worry it might be too mushy... Don't you know me at all?! :)

Even a walk through the cold, dark night can be enjoyable when the company is right. :) I seem to be all about company these days. I think I'm getting to that age now when the possibility of loneliness is distinct and frightening. Not to be depressing, what I mean is to say is that the older I get, the more I try not to take my companies for granted. Just the other day, Maria and I decided that we are too old to lose good friends...

Almost 11:00 pm... Cell Biology seems not possible. Yet, I have my pink ipod on one side, my thick book on the other, both trying to convince me otherwise...

My misplaced heart, please come back...

I washed my hair in the sink after dinner, with a little towel. That, of course, elicited memories of my grandmother washing my hair in the basin, before I was tall enough to reach the sink. She would sit in a little chair, with a metal basin of water on the ground. Then me, draped backwards over her knees... At least that's how I remembered it. If you're thinking... what the hell? Yeah... sounds tortuous to me as well. I remember I threw a fit every time she washed my hair, and couldn't wait for the day when I would be tall enough to reach the sink.

Linda came over for dinner and we ate at Wiess. She confirmed that the lights in Hanszen commons are extra bright. I think I'm light-sensitive... it must be the exact caliber of light to either excite me or calm me... and the ones at Hanszen is just too high (or too low).

I'm looking forward to this weekend, although I have two more papers to write and one big test to take. Bridget Jone's Diary comes out Friday night... There is something reassuring about imperfect people falling in love. :)

Why do I eat dinner at Jones?

Because the company is lovely, why else.

Because there is nothing better than sharing food with people that makes the food secondary. Because there are fewer people in the commons and I can actually hear myself talk. Because the light is softer and not so fluorescently bright. Because there aren't huge glass windows all around me so that when it's dark outside, I can't see out and feel like a bird inside a cage.

Nonetheless, for my peeps at Hanszen - you are also cool, but fortunately, I see you a lot anyways... :)

mmm... Anonymous 2 - can't say what I can't have... apologies.

Random update -

Can't write because can't get started on my two papers. Even now, I think -- thirty minutes of Sex and the City won't hurt. But it will Tian! It will!

Weird, weird things happened with my pretty friend. I think I'm being punished... for what?! I think life (or whoever puppets life) is flaunting what I can't have in my face... or was I suppose to take a closer view and then step away? I'm doing the latter, thank you very much.

Seeing Liu Hong A Yi again made me miss China, and miss Xu Zhou. I miss Yanzi too, but Yanzi seems to be so busy with her life... a life that, try as I might, I can't seem to imagine...

T-spot in the village has real soy-milk. Why three bucks?! Doesn't they know soy is good for the heart and they should make it as cheap as possible because heart-diseases is the number one health problem in America?

I really really really like the bird sequence in modern dance, but it is so so so hard.

Re-reading my blog, there is a sense of heartache for myself, past pains remembered all too well. But there is also the clarity offered with the distance of time, the recognition that those anguish, though unnecessary, were inevitable.

Parting thought - thirty minutes of sex and the city won't hurt!

I love wheeling my suitcase through a crowded airport, with my head held high and my eyes searching for the gate number, listening for the names of places I have never been. It's a feeling of freedom and independence, at least until my arm gets sore from lugging my suitcase and my tummy starts to ache from one too many cups of frappuccino. Still, I don't mind waiting around in airports; I love the over-priced stores and restaurants...

My destination was fabulous. MARTA at night can be a little scary, but all is well that ends well. Let this not be the end...

Airport Vignette #1 -
Prada I could forgo, along with Oscar de la Renta. But the Starbucks around the corner, the Vogue in the bookstore, and that beige and yellow long coat from Banana Republic - I demand of myself. I don't need things to make me happy, nor would I allow the desire for things to make me unhappy. Neither they nor the lack of their likes would define who I am. They will be fringed around my life, trimmed to perfection.

Airport Vignette #2 -
Let me not doubt your presence
Its grandeur, vibrance, closeness
Doubt not my distance
Starting here, there, anywhere.

#2 at the beginning of doubt, as my heart catches on despite all verbal denial. Time is hard to ignore, along with the happiness of others. So when, if not now?

p.s. I just read Maria's latest entry, and grasped the full scope of how selfish I can be. Damn...