I boiled so much hot water for the past few days I broke the electric kettle. Now I use the coffee maker and pretend it doens't have old coffee taste. I haven't done anything for the past week except drink, eat, sleep, and putting lip gloss on my dry, chapped lips (St louis is the driest city on Earth). I shall power through and blog on.

At this very minute, my mom is packing away bits and pieces of this house and moving it all to Atlanta. This will be last holiday I spend in St Louis, after 2.5 years of calling it home. I have trouble grasping the idea that some people spend their whole lives in one place, that one house could hold ALL the memories of a lifetime. As far as I'm concerned, "home" can be many places at the same time. I have moved so many times by now that beside the hassles of packing, no lament or sadness comes with this move. There is only the excitment of seeing a new city, and hope that maybe this time we will stay put for awhile.

August 2007 was a good month.

I don't have any pictures to remind me of the truly memorable moments in BR, like how my roomate picked me up off the floor and threw me into bed to sleep, all because I refused to take a nap postcall and used that as an excuse not to go out. That night at Tsunami's turned out to be one of the most fun, the yummiest sushi I've had in a long time and chocolate cake so warm and soft I didn't know whether to chew or purr. I lost the snapshot of the six donut men that represented Team C -- I had a leg, Anne had an arm, and Tati a body or two. And then there were the bedtime giggles, so very contagious, about nothing at all... Delirium, some may call it. I miss it so.

August ended so soon, in between my hurrying along some moments, and lamenting every other. If only it were possible to skip hours and days, but never seeing the end of the month. We departed, my happy roomates and I, while still believing that we can never grow tired of each other. I can't, and shouldn't, ask for more.

Two tests in the next two days -- my chair hasn't even cooled from studying for Step I, and here I am again. Yuck doesn't even begin to describe this moldy feeling deep in my bones... All I want to do is look at photos of this past weekend -- arrange them, rearrange them, post them, re-post them...

It's hurricane season in NO again. Weather predictions of rain have persisted for the past two weeks. At the moment, lightening and thunder make my hands shake and my head swim... like I need another excuse for this lack of concentration.

This tiny apartment of mine, carefully arranged for comfort and hominess, is not so conducive for studying. I just want to curl up in my huge desk chair and stare into space.

Who ARE those people that become what they aspired to be, and DO what their passion dictates they must do?! Are they ALL on TV?! Do they not have parents? Do they feel no pressure?

As much as I want to think I am who I choose to be, I also believe that choice was restrained by stipulations laid down long before I was born. I can no more choose my choices than I can choose my parents. I can "rise" as much as I want, and "overcome" as much as I want, but in the end, the balance of the universe is not to be shifted by my stubborness or determination... or God forbid, failure. What's my point? I forget. But if there is ever limbo on earth, that's where you can find me...

I hate to think that the universe is conspiring against me, but it is. Getting sick a week before Step I, who's heard of such bad luck. I realize worse things happen every day, but in my world, this is earth shattering. I'm enjoying the best two minutes of my day RIGHT NOW -- breathing through both nostrils. I shall grasp this second to cram in more FIRST AID, before the hypoxia kills more neurons.

A bit over one month since my last blog about my last cold, a bit too soon. So much for the "resilience" I always boasted for my name sake. Yes, that's what my name means, resilience.

To all my friends who are having dinner parties on this Saturday night-- Enjoy! The world is on your side. I have a box of recipes stored away myself, wonder if I will ever try them all. Hope the bread pudding turned out well. :)

These days, I'm in a perpetual state of anxiety and doubt. Anxious that my huge test is coming up, doubt that I can do well. Then today, looking for distractions, I opened my notebook of favorite quotes and book excerpts though the years. I came across "Desiderata". I read it out loud, and by the end, there were tears in my eyes. I had forgotten how many phrases from this short poem had stayed with me through the years, how many quotes have circulated and surfaced in my brain times and again. Then today, I realized that despite it all, I still believe in the words.

"Be yourself. Especially, do not feign affection. Neither be cynical about love; for in the face of all aridity and disenchantment it is as perennial as the grass."

"Beyond wholesome discipline, be gentle with yourself. You are a child of the universe, no less than the trees and the stars; you have a right to be here. And whether or not it is clear to you, no doubt the universe if unfolding as it should."

So optimistic, so true.

It happened again! I just talked to another classmmate that I have brushed past for two years, but never stopped to talk to. Sitting here at Barnes & Noble, he came over to ask if I'm studying for Step I already (no, of course... I'm reading cookbooks for inspiration). What is it about the end of the year that makes us approach familiar strangers? No wonder people say to live each day as if it were your last... imagine what we could accomplish!

One of the few things that makes me feel like a grown up is going to a real domestic store -- William Sonoma, Pottery Barn, Bombay Furniture… When I buy a dark brown, wooden-grained, oversized square platter, it seems as if I'm tending to the little details in life, such as how its pointed corners, curving abruptly upward, will add a fine touch to my night stand.

And it did.

This morning I bought my first jewelry box. Finally, one place for all the pretty silver and copper that I never wear. All the tiny pendants that hold more nostalgia than accessorizing value. No more opening a million little boxes when I miss my senior ring from high school, or the soft gold loops that are so worn they have becomes angled instead of circular.

This is the end of my second year, the "M" in the "MD". I get exactly 48 hours off then on to Step I. I baked a red velvet cake yesterday, then went to a quaint French Restaurant, all in the company of friends that have defined my second year more than pharmacology or clin path ever could. No more classes, no more exams. Different rotations at different times next year mean a dinner like this last dinner will be few and far in between. But then again, those are the best... absence really does make the heart grow fonder.

11:38 am Saturday morning. My 48 hrs slipping though the hour glass.

I took two finals today and went straight to a spinning class. The anaerobic frenzy of it all squeezed every last memory of the pharm final from my brain. I might have gone into over-drive and some clin path might have poured out as well. Not good. clin pat final is tomorrow.

Whenever people say "that's just life" -- I tear up, inexplicably. Can someone tell me why?

One of my facebook person (old acquaintance?) is a nanny, and I found myself jealous of her getting paid to play with an adorable baby, until I realized that the baby doesn't stay a baby forever, the job probably doesn't pay for health insurance, that I don't even like kids, and the only nanny position I ever want to play is to my own kids.

I had a horrible dream last night, and woke up this morning speed dialing the 100 digit calling card+telephone number to reach my mom in China, only to realize that the 13 hour time difference meant she had already left for her flight to Gui Ling. I'm still underneath an aura so dark that no amount of green tea or peach fresca could lift me out.

I have a theory -- that I have successive nightmares each night. While only a few penetrate my consciousness (or memory), the majority of them subvesively attack my subconscious, putting me in a perpetual state of listlessness.

Or it could be the never-ending pile of notesets... or the immedent danger of Step I... or this coughting/sneezing I can't get rid of that causes my nose to peel despite nonstop scrubbing... or finals... or life, damn it.

I was washing my favorite mug in the sink. And while I was washing it, I was telling myself how much I likes this mug, how I wish I had more than one, how from now on, I will buy all my mugs like it... Before I could even finish that last thought, the mug slipped from my detergent soaked hands and hit the sink, broken in half with little pieces chipping off in all directions.

The saddest part is, my mom is away, so there is no one I could call at this hour to whine about the irony and injustice of it all!

I wonder, the next time I feel anxious, will repeating this help?

"Every hurt he'd ever suffered, every ache he'd ever endured -- it was all as gone as an expired breath. he could not feel agony. he could not feel sadness. His consciousness felt smoky, wisplike, incapable of anything but calm..." - The Five People You Meet in Heaven, M. Albom

When my violin teacher read me this poem over the phone, I stopped pacing in my tiny kitchen mid-step... and didn't move until she finished reading the whole thing. She mailed it to me in a packed envelop along with other clippings; she understands how silly I become over words.

Oh, no -- not ev'n when first we loved,
Wert thou as dear as now thou art;
Thy beauty then my senses moved,
But now thy virtues bind my heart.
What was but Passion's Sigh before,
Has since been turn'd to Reason's vow;
And, though I then might love thee more,
Trust me, I love thee better now.

Although my heart in earlier youth
Might kindle with more wild desire,
Believe me, it has gain'd in truth
Much more than it has lost in fire.
The flame now warms my inmost core,
That then but sparkled o'er my brow,
And, though I seem'd to love thee more,
Yet, oh, I love thee better now.

-- Thomas Moore

I befriended ginger and honey over the weekend, hoping to halt an aching throat right where it belongs-- no where! It worked, I feel better.

I saw Cirque du Soleil- Delirium last Friday night, the best live performance ever. Afterwards I was on a natural high and couldn't stop giggling over the nearly naked, perfectly chiseled men... There was one Asian guy in particular, who had a beautiful face to match the flawless physique. My friend had found her soul mate, and I just wanted to look at him every other day. I did, however, manage enough common sense to hold her back when she wanted to go backstage. Or should I have?! Giving up medical school to become a Cirque du Soleil groupie? mmm... not yet. :)

Blood pressure screening at a local Vietnamese church gave me another chance to attend Catholic Mass on Palm Sunday. I didn't understand a word, but craving faith and inspiration, I went anyways. There is something very humbling about kneeling down, an act that inherently diminishes all pride, all ego. And when a friend lend over to translate for me quotes from the Bible, I felt so abysmally small... Facing imperfection, virtues I may always be without, did not lead to sadness, but a peace so new and rare that I almost didn't recognize it.

Walking away isn't always abandonment, and giving up can be honorable too, don't you think? Is it okay to withdraw the helping hand when faced with the risk of falling into a million pieces yourself?

The spell is broken; I won!!!

It's an opera ticket next month... I actually put in my name for the drawing, then left the room to get coffee b/c I didn't think I would win. On my way back to my room, I thought, I bet Thuy (my friend who wins everything) won... so I went back to class to confirm. It turns out, she DID win, and so did I! :)

One week countdown to Round 2... OMG!!!

My record of never winning anything goes unmarred.

Today was APAMSA's (Asian Pacific American Medical Student Association) first annual rice eating contest. This fuzzy picture was the only action shot I have because once the food-shoving started, I became too caught up in the momentum to stop and take a picture! This is the first time I witnessed an eating contest in person and I have to say, there is an energy there unlike any other. Must admit, craziness is fun to watch. (J.L. is the surprising winner)

The winners drew raffle tickets... no P.F. Chang's for me. :(

Two medical students spend an entire hour in a hospital, involving many a people/operator/staff, trying to find the internal medicine resident on call. NO ONE could point them in the right direction! Oh the inefficiencies of the real world... it's a marvel anything gets done. You would think it's the medical students, but I swear, it's not!

I called him a bastard, but it was only half-hearted. The truth is, I don't care anymore. Finally, the naive innocent heroine abandons the undeserving illusion of a man, that is what I call modern day romance. Nothing can get me down after going to the one restaurant I've always wanted to go -- Emeril's! Oh happiness, why can't you stay for good.

I had to modulate myself all weekend in order to match a friend's downcast mood... it's sad but sometimes happiness isn't contagious, but could potentially annoy and devastate. Thus, I will only say here that this past weekend was so fulfilling that I am nothing short of depressed to be back in NO, away from my hometown.

I don't know Shreveport like the back of hand; I never have. There are, however, enough memories around enough corners to induce unexpected nostalgia; enough of a past to marvel at all the changes and things that never change; and just enough people that think of me to complete a bittersweet return. It turns out, I have a whole new set of roots not so far away.

The only thing missing from Mrs. Teague's house is the sound of her dog splattering through the rooms, howling because my arrival always promised a "chewie". I didn't mention that to her; I am sure she notices his absence everyday. It seems that nothing has left their assigned space in the last 5 years-- much to her dismay, much to my comfort. The more everything around me enticed to pull me back in time, the more I latched onto the present. Many things have stayed the same -- but not she, not I.

Me: you have to find something to look forward to.
B.B.: like what?
Me: like the trip this weekend, like the birthday dinner next week, like the spring break coming up.
B.B.: what else?
Me: life -- taking an unexpected turn.

***

Leaving for my old hometown in a couple of hours, I'm going to take pictures of gas stations and red lights. I'm going to see my violin teacher that I haven't seen in many many years. She once told me that no matter how much time passes, we would never grow apart. At the time, either us realized "how much time" would be this much time.

Last night I was giving advice to a friend, and realized that I sounded just like my dad, down to the fluctuation in tone. I hope she found the same comfort in my words that I always do in his.

This weekend will fly by sooo fast, and before I know it, I'll be back in this same seat, wondering where all the time went.

Yesterday in the elevator, I finally talked to the old Chinese lady with the baby stroller. An ever so soft "ni hao" barely left my mouth, when she expounded onto what is a rather shy greeting with -- are you chinese, where are you from, is this elevator going to the ground floor? And I, returning so swiftly to my Chinese roots, was ever so polite. I answered all her questions, punched the right floor for her, talked to the baby in the stroller, and walked out of that elevator feeling ridiculously happy to speak Chinese to a total stranger.

Linda Lee -- any hope you might revive your blog?
Me -- but I feel like a trespasser last time I went.