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?