Expecting Flight

2011-10-26T21:49:00.004-05:00

Tomorrow is the last day of MICU. Thank you for making this a three week rotation instead of four (or five). I will try not to complain about clinic because misery is all relative.

The month flew by, but here and there I left the hospital and got a little excited about life... Such as when...

- Steve was away for two entire weeks in Vietnam and I got comfortable with Skype. Instead of going to London+Paris, I now want to go East for my fabulous vacation...

- for the time being, however, I'll settle for DC in November. I secretly booked Steve's favorite hotel and didn't tell him. Instead I made up a "fake" hotel and poor him has been planning metro routes around this "fake" hotel.

- Before this week ends, I should get my contract for my first real job! Very excited...

- Romantic picnic in the park, rowing around on a canoe... Very surreal. Totally worth saving up two days to have the golden weekend.

- Navy blue peacoat with gold buttons... yummy...

- Linda N is having a baby! My new favorite intern is having a baby! The girl down the street is having a baby!

- Baby R Us is magical!

- First moonlighting gig coming up. How else could I afford the fabulous hotel with the fabulous peacoat? Don't feel sorry for me... at least I have a way to make some extra cash.

The end... for now...

2011-09-29T19:10:00.003-05:00

MICU today. Hope I don't miss fall...

2011-09-14T19:44:00.002-05:00

I saw a girl wearing brown boots today! First boots I spotted this season. The weather forecast for the weekend ahead promises cooler weather, and I dream of my own boots slumbering away in their boxes. Still... not sure how she thinks she can get away with tall leather boots in 85+ degree weather, except that she works within the air conditioned confines of Anthropologie, where everything is magical, and anything goes.

2011-09-11T19:58:00.006-05:00

The past 2.5 hours had me spinning with frustration.

It didn't help that today is the end of my one week vacation with my parents, leaving them always stir up worries and uncertainties that I'm never strong enough to confront. But on Saturday, I had Steve to look forward to. And poor him, always a ready distraction for all my present woos.

Then saying goodbye to Steve today... a different set of worries and uncertainties altogether. I know he thinks I'm a drama queen (and actually proved it by putting a pink, feathery, glittery "drama queen" crown on my head in a costume shop today), especially during our weekly departures. Some days I'm extra pathetic, and actually become snotty and puffy eyed from crying. Today, the sadness of leaving my parents on Saturday + leaving him Sunday paralyzed me in his condo through an extra episode of Chopped. Thus the late departure, thus the extra frustration for the past 2.5 hours (which can be summed up by saying I HATE automated phone messages and I HATE FEMA).

September 11th. I'm hardly qualified to write anything about that day, given how remote and disconnected I was to the events when they happened. A college student in Texas with no TV... all I remember is how my class was the only one not cancelled. That's not to say I wasn't shocked or horrified, but second hand emotions... so easily shrugged off. This morning when I watched MSNBC re-broadcast the images, I wonder how I went all these years without seeing them beginning to end, but is anything ever the same again?

2011-09-09T18:04:00.003-05:00

Shhhh.... don't tell anyone... but I've been googling wedding venues and wedding photographers and wedding dresses (most of all, wedding dresses). It's not that I'm about to get married, but it's also not that I'm NOT about to get married. Who can tell these things really. The inspiration is a set of beautiful wedding photographs in Santorini that took my breath away...

http://www.iqphoto.com/destination/

So far, my plan is to spend all my money on A) the dress and B) the photographer, and skip the wedding part all together. And as long as I'm allowed to be selfish (on my blog, at least), I will fly my favorite wedding photographer from San Francisco to wherever I am...

And the dress. I've always wanted a Carrie Bradshaw meets Christian Lacroix meets Vera Wang creation with angles and dimensions, the kind of lacy whiteness that makes the average person's head spin. This deep rooted imagery is completely changed by Linda Lee, whose own simple and ever so elegant wedding dress made me think -- why so big?

http://www.junshien.com/6370/

I don't have a dress yet. Is it true when you see it, you know it? It's still too early. After all, I'm not really looking...

2011-09-09T17:54:00.002-05:00

My favorite sweet and tangy shrimp, except this version is jazzed up by lobster meat! Long slices of green onion, ginger, and garlic sauteed until you can smell its fragrance in the air. Then a splash of soy sauce with a spoonful of sugar later - the most amazing shrimp. It is best with the heads on, of course, but good luck finding those!

SSI

2011-09-07T08:02:00.006-05:00

My first weekend home with Steve. Never knew my parents could be so hospitable. Always knew Steve could be so charming. He felt, oddly enough, like he belongs here, in a space that has never seen the likes of him.

A lot of cooking! A lot of watching my mom cook. A lot of memorizing the details of this house and this life that I'm so rarely apart of.

Yet, when I am here, I am home.

2011-07-10T20:35:00.000-05:00

2011-04-04T17:13:00.004-05:00

Certain roles can't be claimed. One can't jus put a name down, sign up, stand in line. Every silence is filled with reluctance... to yield. It says: don't be persistent... please.

So let it go.

Because first... do no harm.

Because if I didn't, it will become about me... and "us"

Because we all deserve the right to sulk, in peace.

Because when you stand on the outside, you can't talk yourself in.

2011-03-31T18:01:00.000-05:00

A tiny shift to the right

Edged in sideways.

In one glance

"Life" strangely undisturbed.

But look from the inside out

The loss

of an empty space.

2011-02-23T16:00:00.001-06:00

What is the proper number of kisses

For a man to leave this world?

The average depth of melancholy?

The approximate wetness of hope?

- Max Garland

(from Catfish and Mandala by Andrew X. Pham)

2011-02-16T12:33:00.004-06:00

I made it through my intern year without shedding a single tear at work. There was this one drive home after another hard day at the VA when my face was a bit wet and the exit off the highway a bit blurry... At the end of most days, and definitely the end of every month when I leave a rotation, I can say without a doubt - I like my job. Not "love" with all its passion and thrill, but a quiet contentment and the feeling of "no regrets". With second year halfway over, I have to make some serious decisions about "life". It seems that I am at a crossroads. Here I find myself uncertain of who I am and what I want.

It is easy to say - be yourself... "Myself" has been a shifting concept, an unstable image based mostly on the refection I see through the eyes of others. How I feel about myself depends entirely too much on which direction I look and whose eyes I look into. Is this why I choose to surround myself with people who love me, and avoid those with fleeting glances that say - you're not important? The truth is when I opened this neglected blog and read some earlier entries, it was the first time in a long time that I felt a sense of "me". I suppose that's why I decided to stamp 2011 into my blog. After alllll these years, "Expecting Flight" is still such a fitting title.

Banana Coconut Loaf Cake

2010-11-13T13:08:00.000-06:00

Invest in a good loaf pan, it will motivate you to delve into all the loaf cake recipes that scream "good morning"! I love my red Emile Henry with scalloped edges so much I would make this cake everyday if I had everlasting supply of ripe bananas and sour cream.

Banana Coconut Loaf Cake

1/3 C sunflower oil (I substitute with canola)

1 and 3/4 C all purpose flour

1 and 1/2 tsp baking powder

1 C superfine sugar (superfine is lighter, you can actually put granulated sugar in a mini blender and give it a swirl to make it superfine)

2/3 C shredded coconut

2 eggs, slighted beaten

2 ripe bananas, mashed

1/2 C sour cream

1 tsp vanilla extract

1. Preheat oven to 350

2. Blend (or sift if you have time) the flour, baking powder, and sugar together. Add to it the oil, eggs, sour cream, vanilla extract and mix until roughly blend.

3. Fold in the bananas and coconut

4. Bake covered with foil for ~45 min. Remove the foil and bake another ~15 or so. The loaf cake is done with it bounces back and feels firm with you press down the top.

2010-04-04T21:41:00.003-05:00

No more goofing around, must get down to work. I have been very lenient with myself. After a 30 hour call day and 4 hour nap, I have not looked up Rituxan or Blasto. Instead, I have poured over recipes for a dinner party I'm going to this Friday. Originally bread pudding souffle is an obvious choice, considering my recent meringue kick, the 2 dozen eggs in my fridge, and that it's one of the BEST dessert I've EVER tasted. But... I don't trust myself with meringue at a meringue-naive kitchen. Whisking egg whites with someone else's mixer is too risky. So, instead, I will stick to my favorite bread pudding recipe:
http://www.foodnetwork.com/recipes/emeril-lagasse/banana-walnut-bread-pudding-with-buttery-rum-sauce-recipe/index.html

Gym Day 1 since ??? My new attending likes to run up the flights of stairs, race to the patient's room, stand there and stare at me while I try to catch my breath/form complete sentences. That's simply reason 1/ a million to drag myself to the gym. Mostly... almost entirely... it's my father's partly stern, partly coercive voice telling me to exercise, excercise, exercise. It is why I never missed kickboxing in college, started cycling in med school, and months after not touching the gym this intern year, went back on the trend mill post call today. It's also why I firmly believe no matter how many exercise-less ruts I get into, I will always find my way back to a routein.

Besides... there is that blue strapless dress I need to wear...

10 pm. Too late to study. Maybe tomorrow...

French Chocolate Almond Macaroons (adapted from recipe by Carole Walter)

2010-04-04T18:38:00.002-05:00

This is the mother recipe. A good place to start. After having tried the colorful variation, this original version tastes better, is easier to make, and has a higher chance of success (and every bit counts). The best part, I think, is even when you mess up and the little macaroon does not puff up smoothly landed on their little padded "feet", they're still delicious!

After you taste them straight from the oven, you'll think -- these are perfect, who needs chocolate to go in between! Melt the chocolate! It's even better with them. The gooey center contrasts with the airy meringue.

Oooo, now I can't wait to try them, Trial #3.

1 scant cup slivered, blanched almonds (about 4 1/2 ounces)
2 C strained confectioners' sugar, divided, spooned in and leveled
3 tbsp strained dutch-processed cocoa powder
3 large egg whites, at room temperature
1/8 tsp salt
Ganache filling (google-able)

Heat oven to 325 F.
Dab corners of baking pans lightly with butter, line with parchment, and butter the parchment.
Place almonds with 1 C confectioners' sugar and the cocoa in a large bowl. Pulse mixture in food processor to combine, then pulse for about one minute. Should be very powdery. Set aside.
[I substituted with 1 C almond flour mixed with 1 C confectioners' sugar]
Whip egg whites on medium speed until frothy. Add sat and beat until firm peaks form. Add remaining 1 C of sugar, 1 tbsp at a time, taking about 2 min. Scrap down bowl as needed. Then beat 1 min longer until stiff and shiny.
Place the nut mixture in a large-gauge strainer and sprinkle over meringue in 5 or 6 additions, folding with large rubber spatula. Discard any large pieces of nuts.
Empty meringue into 18-inch pastry bag fitted with a #805 or 1/2 inch piping tube. Spoon meringue in. Pipe 1 inch dots onto the prepared cookie sheets.
Smooth tops of dots with barely moistened fingertips. Let dry 20 to 30 min. Then Bake one sheet at a time, for about 10 min or until JUST SET! Tops should be smooth. [good luck with that…]

Remove form oven, let rest for 1 to 2 min.
Sandwich ganache between two halves!

The bottom two web sites are good resources, you should read them before you start! Wish I had...

http://www.davidlebovitz.com/archives/2005/10/french_chocolat.html
http://www.davidlebovitz.com/archives/2008/09/making_french_macarons.html

2010-04-02T21:05:00.002-05:00

At this point, is it too late to figure out who I am. Are there still surprises that lay ahead of me, not trivial but life-changing events that can alter the direction of my life. When I read A Homemade Life by Molly Wizenberg, that is what I think of. To spend the day aerating her flour and write about it... That is not me (or is it).

I have another book my desk: A Writer's Workbook by Caroline Sharp. I have no intention of "working it up", just reading it for pleasure and inspiration (since it is recommended by Elizabeth Gilbert). I also have dozens of journal articles, TH emails, and a chapter on lupus awaiting my attention. Are my diverting interests conflicting or harmonious? Will they make me a more wholesome person or tare me in a thousand different directions?

That remains to be seen...

2010-04-02T18:43:00.004-05:00

One of these day, my luck will run out and I will have to work with someone I don't like for a whole month! But for now, there is still a light over me, and my upper level is ever so calm and methodical, while I am so scattered. She is a new mom, is that why she has such a glow? I'll stick close to her, and maybe some of whatever it is will rub off.

A lovely book came in the mail for me today written by a foodie/writer. It's a surprise sent from a fellow foodie/writer friend who considers me a committed foodie/writer as well. What a compliment! I do still dream of that double life... I come home from a long day of work and flip through "food and wine", even though there are no ingredients in my fridge or time in my schedule to make anything. Not the green pea risotto, not the tangerine glazed chicken, not even the homemade granola bars... But, there is still the dream of leading a double life. MD by day, foodie/writer by night...

My lastest baking endeavor is the following Easter macaroon. It is less than perfect, to be kind. When they're smoothly domed in the oven, I smiled with pride. But when they cracked/wrinkled/bursted on my carefully buttered parchment paper, my heart fell a little. I didn't throw any away though, but sandwiched chocolate between all but the most damaged ones and brough them to a dinner party. My friends didn't mind. Beauties like these cannot be wasted, even when baked a little past their prime.

2010-03-27T21:59:00.003-05:00

A week in the Georgian coast... what did I do?

In the past seven days, I baked and shipped cookies to two special people- one as a birthday present, the other because he is so brave to come all alone to a new country. Made two of my favorite chocolate bundt cakes for my mom to give to her neighbors. Cooked the famous spaghetti/meatball recipe for my dad as I promised, with enough left overs to re-simmer and re-heat long after I've left. Tried a new crabcake recipe with really good result and is easily replicable on my own. I also watched a Chinese miniseries (蜗居）which noticeably improved my Chinese and temporarily shifted my focus to imaginary plots that are more captivating than my own drama... But what I shouldn't forget, and won't forget, is how my mom got up early this morning to make freshly steamed 包子for me before I left. She knows it's my favorite, and bc I've been hogging the kitchen all week there simply wasn't space, on the dinner table or in my stomach, to fit it in. So I woke up to the sound of her in the kitchen today, and sure enough, they were ready for lunch with enough to come home with me.

Back to reality... whatever that means. Sometimes my life is so odd it is down right surreal...

Morning walk on the beach minutes away from the house...

2010-03-21T07:12:00.002-05:00

I'm home!

It doesn't look like home yet, half of the materialistic landmarks are still in St. Louis. My favorite painting, my dragonfly curtain, the copper and glass table... not here. Possibly, most unfortunately, alarmingly... my heart isn't here either... Having endured 2 weeks of ED and coming home for the first time since June, I want nothing more than to immerse myself in this beautiful kitchen with a wooden counter thick enough to be a chopping board!

But I can't... yet... People always say don't make decisions when you're angry... I wonder if the same can be said about all extremes of emotion. Don't make decisions when you're heartbroken. Don't make decisions when you can't see clearly past the sadness. Don't make decisions when there is a small voice of reason that once in awhile breaks through all your chaotic remembrances and tell you to -- let it go.

Hang on to that voice... it's the only thing that has the possibility of leading you to somewhere safe.

2010-03-08T14:14:00.004-06:00

I went three ER shifts without a single admission, then last night, two for my fellow intern/resident on GI. The second one was called at 4:30am. I felt so guilty I would have done the admission for him myself. The worst part, however, was the call to the GI fellow prior. Yes, I can see the irritation from her point of view -- being woken up at 4 AM and not for an admission, but a complicated management question. BUT, there is never a need to be an *** to your colleagues. She should know an intern would never call a fellow (esp at that hour) unless it were supported by the team/attending. Of course it was my attending who insisted on the call. She said - you're a clinician too; you should be able make the medical decision. If that were the case, then why do we need specialists?

The worst worst part is that I like this fellow. She is odd, but there is nothing wrong with being odd. There is, however, something wrong with being an A****. I wonder if I should be so friendly the next time I run into her. Sigh... Whatever, I'll just do what feels right at the moment. That seems to be all I can do these days.

Not looking forward to tonight. Sick of the ED. Sick of taking two showers a day. Sick of leaving home in pitch dark and going to sleep when the rest of the world is waking up...

2010-03-07T15:11:00.002-06:00

Sat night 10 hour ER shift:

8:50 pm: The hospital lobby is nearly empty. If I ignore the strange people in PJ's carrying around sleeping bags, it is not so different from my morning walk. Dark out, bright in, I walk past Starbucks with hope... if only... The first people I see get my best 'good morning' smile. Unfortunately I also verbalize it out loud and immediately feel like a retard.

10 hrs to go...

11 pm: Cute resident, Nice attending... Maybe it won't be a bad night. 40 ppl in ED! Why aren't they at home watching oprah's Oscar special??? We have two 3rd year medical students; they don't talk much and I'm too new to be chatty. Ohhhh... I want to be third years... just for awhile.

3:30 am: A blur of charts, pts, dictations. My throat hurts. Many water bottle refills, many trips to the bathroom. Must talk sparingly now. I get so pale in the middle if the night. All the color just drains out of my cheeks. If not for a little eyeshadow, I would look like death. Checking my email without thinking... old habbit...

3.5 hrs to go

4:21am: time is sllooowwing down. Spend 10 min flushing an eye with saline... just to get out a sweater fuzz. Don't ask me why he couldn't just rub it out... The wife is really cute. I would admire how cute they are together except he smokes. That ruins it all... I can see it now, lung cancer in 10 years. She might even get it first... Second hand smoke... Selfishness, stupidity, *bad word, bad word*

I phone battery halfway down...

6:09 am: awaiting ct results for a poor little lady with sore throat. She cried when I touched her neck. The resident said I could do another admission if I want. Uhmmm... Sure I do. I'm dying to do another admission that's sure to make my shift go over.

I miss my team...

6:31 am: Still waiting for the ct... will not leave on time. That is the problem with this count down, the clock does not have the final say.

I miss my team...

2:00 pm Oscar night: post shower, post nap, post oatmeal... Turned on the TV and there is Keira Knightly in that emerald green gown... ahhh, that's my inspiration gown for the day.

Thursdays with Julia

2010-03-04T15:33:00.000-06:00

It's presumptuous to give this blog entry such a presuming title, but I couldn't resist. Thursdays with Julia sounds like a tradition, rather than a first time endeavor inspired by watching Julie and Julia. One thing is for sure, there will not be cooking of the boeuf bourguignon caliber every Thursday (or cooking at all, for that matter). But... for now... here is to tradition:

A little messy? But this is JULIA's boeuf bourguignon. My friend and I didn't eat dinner until ~10 pm. The 3 cups of red wine is not subtle, especially when one opens the oven door to stir the pot -- the Swift of alcohol mixed with the hot oven says stand back! It also says I'm not ready yet...

Straight from the oven, bubbling in the dutch pot, this dish is heartwarming. I was lucky to share it with a friend, who googled for the original recipe and studied it many times over before we started to sear the bacon. But, this is also the dish for the meals I eat alone, on my sofa or by my desk... It will fill up all the empty spaces, inside and out.

http://www.oprah.com/food/Boeuf-Bourguignon

2010-03-01T23:08:00.002-06:00

I don't blog like I should, uncertain which thoughts are too personal to share and which are too trivial... But if I did blog about today, this is what I would say:

Today is my last day at the VA. I was the last one to leave the team room and it made me sad turning off the light and walking away for the last time this year... All the mornings I walked into that room so dark except for the floating 'windows' sign on the three computers side by side, a long wooden table deceptively clean of dust and clutter... until I turn on the light. The next time I see my team, it will be a hurried hello and goodbye while breezing past each in the hallway. Nevertheless, I will remember... how I counted on them to make me laugh every single day this month.

This has been an especially hard month, for reasons DEFINITELY too personal to recount here. If not for my co-workers, I would have put my head down and cried over my computer many many times. Even so, it was still hard to swirl out of the chair and work with a clean slate of mind. Some days I put on my white coat with decided determination -- I WILL not let this affect my work. I will NOT let this strain my smile in the morning.

I've been here before... walking away and leaving the door ajar. Last time I had to turn back and slam the door. Only then can I let time heal, as only time could. BUT, that was then, this is now. I am THAT much more mature, that much more aware, that much more appreciative of the special people in my life. Friends I have, laughter I can find, but that special connection, no matter in what form, is still rare and hard to come by. To shut the door on that? I can't do it... not yet.

Julie and Julia is lovely!!! So lovely that my best friend and I will be attempting the boeuf bourguignon this week. Of course I will be blogging about that. :)

2010-02-21T15:28:00.006-06:00

Surprise Sunday off. My co-intern volunteered to see my one patient today so that I can get an extra day off this month... So nice.

I baked the morning away. Carefully following a recipe to the T, which I confess I haven't been doing lately. Martha Stewart's banana-chocolate chip-walnut cookie recipe I whisked together in one hurried minute... Not taking care to press down the brown sugar or level off my flour. But today... listening to John Mayer's "Heart of Life", I wanted to pay the deserved attention to my new cook book -- Great Cookies by Carole Walter. This book was recommended by my attending, who told me that she is the guru of all cookie gurus!

Tomorow, I will bring the yumminess to my team at the VA. I enjoy most of my co-workers, but my team this month has been particularly wonderful. They have made me laugh countless times when I felt like bursting into tears right in front of the computer. I suppose I shouldn't bring my personal life to work, but sometimes my personal life can't be drowned out by determination or fatigue. Just as I am about to put my head down and surrender under a cloud of sadness, they tease me with a silly joke and I laugh! Not out of politeness, but because... as John Mayer put it... "circle of your friends, will defend the silver lining."

Coconut Chocolate Devils. Great Cookies by Carole Walter

2 (2/3) C sweetened coconut flakes (17 ounce bag)

1/2 C all purpose flour

1/4 strained cocoa powder

1/4 tsp baking soda

1/4 tsp salt

1/2 C unsalted butter

6 ounces bittersweet or semisweet chocolate, chopped

3 ounces unsweetened chocolate, chopped

3 large eggs

1 (1/3) superfine sugar

2 tsp pure vanilla extract

1/4 tsp pure almond extract

1. Preheat oven to 350. Line cookie sheets with parchment paper.

2. Pulse coconut in food processor 6 to 8 times or until medium chopped. Set aside

3. Strain together flour, cocoa, baking soda, and salt. Set aside.

4. Melt butter in a bowl set over simmering water (make sure bowl does not touch water). Add chopped bittersweet/ unsweet chocolates to melted butter and stir together over simmering water, till they just melt. Remove from heat, keep warm.

5. Beat eggs until light, gradually add superfine sugar, taking about 2 min. Stop mixer and pour in butter/chocolate mixture, mix together until just combined. Add vanilla/almond extract.

6. Reduce mixer speed and mix in dry ingredients.

7. Let batter rest ~5 minutes, until it begins to thicken. Then sprinkle handfuls of coconut over batter, folding with spatula. You can fold in as thoroughly (or not) as you please.

8. Drop teaspoons of cookie until sheet, 2 inches apart. Bake ~10 minutes, until just set. They are still soft to the touch and will firm as they cool. Rest for 1-2 min before transfer to cool on racks.

Don't over bake, they come out soft in the middle like brownies :)

2010-02-18T21:20:00.004-06:00

I have something to say. It's my audience that makes me pause, make my words hesitate at the edge of my fingertips. Why write if I can't be more than honest? Why keep a blog if I can't chronicle the most insignificant details of my life...

2010-02-18T15:21:00.000-06:00

Xiao ming, this cookie recipe is for you. Thank you for being ever so encouraging of everything I do -- writing, baking, doctoring... :)

I wish I had taken a picture, but unfortunately I was too busy eaying them all. The cookie is simple but special bc of the banana. Let me know how it turns out!

http://www.marthastewart.com/portal/site/mslo/menuitem.aced15a43a1d10e593598e10d373a0a0/?vgnextoid=09bc4c27e145b110VgnVCM1000003d370a0aRCRD&vgnextchannel=2357a68e577fe010VgnVCM1000003d370a0aRCRD&vgnextfmt=print&currentslide=1&page=1

2009-10-30T05:54:00.009-05:00

The mountain behind my apartment has new colors-- shades of green, gold, brown and maple depending on the light. If it was good Feng Shui before, I'm expecting even better flow of energy this time of the year, when everything is particularly beautiful and crisp. The rain and tornado warnings last night have yielded to a particularly cold Birmingham morning, the kind that calls me to boil water and make tea even if I have no plans of drinking any. Any other Saturday morning I might have stayed in, but today happens to be Halloween.

(to be continued... Bloody Spaghetti and Bobby Flay's pumpkin bread pudding)

There is something about reading a great book that always makes me think about my own life, how I can weave it into a page-turner. I have been meaning to pick up "the kite runner" the moment I finished "A Thousand Splendid Suns", but the guilt of leisurely reading when I have piles of unfinished journal articles kept me from picking it up.

What a mistake.

The first chapter, no the first sentence, spoke to me like it could have been me telling the story... like it could have been my story. "I became what I am today at the age of twelve..." Coincidence? I love coincidences.

2009-05-24T12:06:00.003-05:00

Delightful little scones, another wonderful recipe from Dorie. http://www.parade.com/export/sites/default/food/recipes/parade/123-bake-raisin-scones.html Try it, your mornings will be so happy you did.

2009-05-20T02:38:00.002-05:00

Graduation finally happened. Moving into Birmingham finally happened. Finding the PERFECT coffee table finally happened. June 15th is getting closer and closer, and I'm getting more and more nervous.

2009-05-04T21:40:00.002-05:00

The things I truly depend on are the things I take for granted... such as my car. Thus it is devastating when something goes wrong.

Something went wrong.

The power steering wheel belt broke Saturday morning, which turned out to be because of a broken harmonic balance. The dealer was closed so I had it towed to a different place, which was mistake number 1. Mistake number 2 was when I couldn't find the button to pop open the hood, showing just how incompetent and car illiterate I am... I may as well have signed a written consent for them to rip me off. Between now and then I receive about three more phone calls telling me how many more parts broke, how much more work/time they need, and how much the price will escalate. Finally I told them to stop everything because I am getting it towed to the dealer... which I did.

I guess the lesson learned here is always get my car to the dealership, eve if they're closed.

2009-05-01T07:22:00.001-05:00

Brunch at Surrey's, a small cash-only, hole-in-the-wall restaurant tucked away on the far side of Magazine street, with a line of people waiting out of the door. The decor is floor to ceiling local art; the menu is brunch food with a New Orleans twist; when asked the host how long the wait is he said "forever". It turns out that "forever" is quite worth it because I FINALLY got to eat a "stuffed" french toast, something I've only seen on TV.

And so medical school ends. A word from the dean, a word from the chancellor, and four years concludes as unceremoniously as it began. There is still the cocktail banquet, the precommencement, the commencement... but somehow this last day of classes, and so the end of my life as a student, means more to me. From now on when I see my classmates, it won't be in the same context-- sleepy, tired, hung over... They will be impeccably dressed and ridiculously friendly, completely forgetting that not so long ago they were assigned neurosurgery at W Jeff... and in deep denial that a few weeks from now, all this confetti and celebration will seem like a different lifetime ago.

All the more reason to be happy now!

2009-04-26T19:58:00.005-05:00

Piping these cupcakes brought much joy to my heart. When I lined them up on my cooling rack, I almost did a little dance around them. Food and Wine didn't lie, these are fabulous batter and frosting recipes, especially if you are a butter cream frosting kind of person... and I am.

2009-04-26T06:41:00.012-05:00

One last week of "classes", except it is unlike any class I've ever known. Filled with medical etiquette, financial planning, medical license... it is thoughtful, practical, applicable, and most importantly, skippable. The strange thing is, my class makes its best effort to make a presence. We fill most seats, bring our computers, ask questions... it's like we all realize this is our last chance to be a student.

A beautiful tart was made for a special birthday last Wednesday night. It was my first time attempting a tart and a wonderful Emeril recipe with a pressed on almond crust means my friend and I didn't have to roll any dough. It was as refreshing as it is beautiful, especially when chilled overnight in the fridge.

I went to my first wedding yesterday! Can't believe I've never been to a wedding either... but it is true. The ceremony took place in a downtown New Orleans Jesuit church, as breathtakingly beautiful as the most beautiful of New Orleanian churches. Pristine and ornate, with rows of wooden pew marked with iron cast Fleur De Li's at each end. Higher than it is wide, the space commands a hushed regalness that only churches can. The bride, walking down the isle with her dad, didn't feel like my classmate at all... but some ethereal creature enshrined in a glossy white gown, so beautiful I can only admire from a far. It is neither cheesy nor cliche, neither ordinary or predictable, but a singularly moving rite of passage that makes me wonder how anyone experienced it could ever consider the d word.

2009-04-17T19:36:00.006-05:00

My new apartment has yellow walls, darker than lemon, lighter than dijon. It's the color of sunny egg yolk when whisked with sugar. I looked at three complexes before making a prudent, economic decision to rent not the newest or the largest, but a good compromise of all the things I'm looking for, while still fitting for a poor, heavily in-debt, over worked intern. Yes, that is the role I am all ready to play.

2009-04-09T20:27:00.006-05:00

I almost bought a house today.

"Almost"... as in I got on the phone with a realtor, asked around about the interest rate, calculated some down payments, looked at floor plans, and seriously tried to imagine myself the owner of a piece of land (plus more).

As it turns out, my soon to be new city does not have a good rental market at all, esp close to the hospital. My friend, who was so damn determined to live in the same apt complex with me, was there for 2 hours before she called a realtor and bought a house in ONE day. She said to me -- I suggest you do the same. Simple as that... like buying a windbreaker. She couldn't begin to understand (and I can't begin to explain to her) how UNprepared I am to buy a house. It's not even about the lack of money in my bank account, or that I've only spend 48 hours in the city, or that I've never even paid for my own electricity let alone a mortgage...

No... it's not about that about all. It's about the deep unsettled feeling of dread that I am sure is what people refer to as the 6th sense. It's about needing to know that I am, still, free and unattached. It's about knowing that I am not ready to be attached... to a house... to a city... before I find someone special to share that house and city with. It's about not tearing down my back up plan-- when times get really bad I can always say to myself, it's only three years. I don't need a lawn and real neighbors and extra bedrooms to remind me that I own more than a kitchen aid in my new city

Also, when I do buy a house, I want to be over the moon excited, not feel like someone just enlisted me on death row...

To make a long story short, I am not buying. I talked to people and lined up a couple of places to look. If there is anything I have more of now than one month ago, it is faith. I have no doubt that things will work out just fine.

2009-03-28T20:20:00.002-05:00

Magazine street shopping, Sucree gelato and macaron sampling, then a perfect cupcake from "Bee Sweet Cupcakes" to end a Saturday. So this is what it feels like to be young and carefree... not bad at all. :)

2009-03-28T07:01:00.004-05:00

Blogging... disappointment.

Disappointment in others is really disappointment in myself. Why did I not do better, especially since deep down, I know better. So much easier to point fingers when the only person I should be disappointed in is me. And I was... I am... but now I must get over it before I seriously hurt my self-esteem. All of which is much needed when I start my intern year in June.

If something else has to absorb the residual frustration of the "B" situation, I blame it on the craziness of this year. Being back to NO after four months of away rotations, realizing I was still carrying the remembrances of a ghost that left long ago, I NEEDED a distraction! Of course I knew it would end no other way. But, as one of my favorite movies quoted: Surprisingly wonderful things can happen, even late in the game.

I wanted it to apply to me so badly.

But... something wonderful did happen, just not the form I wanted.

As far as THAT's concerned... its a whole different game... and I'm not late at all.

2009-03-21T07:09:00.000-05:00

I should have posted the result of Match Day two days ago, but I couldn't imagine describing it coherently on paper. My excitement was uncontainable and radiated every which way. I must have hugged a million people and floated so high on a cloud it was actually VISIBLE.

Seriously! One stranger said -- you look like you're floating on a cloud! I told her I AM!

I don't think I actually believed that envelop could spell out my number one choice. I know people told me it would... but I never got my hopes up. If I didn't get it, eventually the disappointment would be all mine to swallow. And I didn't know if I could... in public... surrounded by happy people. But little did I know that I would be the happiest of them all! (I really might be...)

My excitement may seem naive... even to me. After all, the hardest part hasn't even started. But the past four years have not exactly been a walk in the park, and the many pep talks I have given and received never completely erased the sense of... doubt? Then Thursday happened. And I don't doubt anymore. Good things and bad things happen, who knows what the next three year holds. But one thing is for sure, I really am blessed. So I'm gong to be obliviously happy, even if just for this extended weekend.

2009-03-19T07:23:00.001-05:00

Should I put on make up now and let it sit on my face for a couple of hours, or should I wait awhile so it has the fresh glow that I can never purposely create, but sometimes appears effortlessly when I look sideways? My hair I will have to blow dry soon, before the clip creates a permanent kink and strips any possibility of "volume".

These are the hard questions I content myself with on the morning of "Match Day". To ponder on the harder questions takes me dangerously close to sulking and pessimism, which I do not want to trudge into just yet. My violin teacher said wherever I go, it's up to me what I turn the experience into. There is truth to it. I turned medical school and New Orleans into a place (in life and in this world) that I'm sad to leave. Is that my doing or a stroke of luck? After four years of being uncomfortable in my own skin, the universe decides to throws me a bone and give me some friends that will love me no matter what... I believe people call it "unconditional".

Whatever the envelope holds, I'm leaving New Orleans for sure. It's good to leave when I have so much fondness for the city, when there are still stores and restaurants I want to explore, when even the shady neighborhoods (and there are many) I look onto with hopeful expectations. I have waited a long time to begin buying fleur de lis memorabilia. Nothing crazy, like a door mat... something more subtle, like subliminal messages of happiness that I can leave all over my new apt.

2009-03-15T08:41:00.008-05:00

Would it be narcissistic of me to say that there is nothing ordinary about my life because of all the extraordinary people in it?

I hope not, because driving home from Baton Rouge at 10pm last night, I felt like the luckiest person in the whole world. I was so grateful to spend the day with my host family and old roommates that I, momentarily, made peace with all the current anguish in my life - Match Day anxiety and all.

I have been looking forward to cook dinner for my host family, whom I haven't seen since last September... to surprise Randy with an early birthday cake, to test out Michelle's recipe for the most moist Amaretto Chocolate Cake, to catch St. Patrick's Day parade with Laura... I missed the house, the lake, the kitchen, the long driveway with its canopy of pine trees, my amazing host family, Mark and Mary-Anne, being together with the girls under one roof, dashing around the kitchen looking for pots and pans, and praying Elaine's unpredictable oven pulls through.

As soon as I stepped into the house, I knew where everything is. I pulled open the fridge and pantry closet checking stock, noting what we need to buy to make dinner and what they already have. I leaned my elbow against the cool marble counter, thinking of the old one that split down the middle when I put hot biscuits on top (I was reassured a million times that I didn't break it, it was already broken)... I sat down by the kitchen table, thinking of all the times I sat there to study, to stare at the lake, to pretend to study, to day dream, to cry over boys...

It was 55 degrees and raining. The St Patrick's day parade route was filled with people. I kept maybe three beads and gave the rest to Randy and Elaine's grand kids (who, in turn, gave me a stuffed tiger football with a tail). The bean dip made my stomach turn. Laura and I ran through the rain and an empty golf course to get back to the car. We were so drenched and cold she couldn't feel her hands and my mascara ran down my face (which doesn't happen even when I cry during movies)... But can I tell you, honestly, I had a BLAST.

Laura's Pork Chop with Orange Soy Glaze and Udon Noodles was so delicious, even when Whole Foods runs out of Udon Noodles and we had to substitute with fettuccine. And I was so grateful she calmly took over the entree so I can concentrate on my roasted potato and mushroom salad with mascarpone (Fine Cooking, Feb/March 2009) and Parmesan-roasted cauliflower (Barefoot Contessa at Home, 2006), which also turned out amazing. We also made mango salsa, which Laura tells people is a Tian invention. :)

At end of the night, Randy told me to keep the house key, so I can come home whenever I want.

This is yet. A Chocolate Amaretto Cake so moist and delicious that it lives up to the beautiful shape of the Williams and Sonoma bundt cake mold. This mold is so distractingly beautiful I have to bath in the compliments for a full minute (or more) before admitting that, no, I didn't chisel out the swirl one by one... But like I said, the cake is so good it doesn't even matter.

Libbie's Chocolate Amaretto Cake

1 package (18.25 ounces) plain devil's food cake mix

1 package (3.9 ounces) chocolate instant pudding mix

1/2 Cup vegetable oil

3/4 C whole milk

1/2 C water

1/4 C mayonnaise (can you believe it?!)

4 large eggs

1/4 C amaretto liqueur

1 tsp pure almond extract

1 C semisweet chocolate chips

Confectioner's sugar for garnish

1. Place rack in center of oven and preheat to 350 F. Mist 12 C bundt pan with veg oil spray and dust with flour. Shake out excess.

2. Place cake mix, pudding mix, milk, oil, water, mayo, eggs, amaretto, and almond extract in large bowl. Blend on low for 1 min. Scrape down sides. Increase speed and mix another 2 minutes more. Fold in chocolate chips. Pour into pan and smooth out.

3. Bake till cake springs back when lightly pressed, 53 to 56 minutes. Cool pan on rack for 20 minutes Invert and cool on rack.

4. Dust with powdered sugar or glaze.

They're pretty accurate with the baking time. Don't over bake!

2009-03-13T08:19:00.004-05:00

I'm about to take the last test of my medical school career, I thought this moment is blog-worthy. The impending sense of doom and the butterflies in my stomach are all very familiar, like bad streets I've been forced to walk down too many times. Let's hope I make it through unscathed.

2009-03-11T19:36:00.005-05:00

There are many "soft spots" in my heart; a special one is reserved for peacocks. They remind me of my grandfather and Sunday mornings all dressed up to go to the zoo. He said if I wear pretty dresses, the peacocks would be envious and spread their own feathers. I remember spinning around in front of their cage, showing off my dress, willing them to do the same...

When I saw these note cards in BnN, I had to get them... Just like the peacock dress from Banana, just like the peacock hair clip from China...

2009-03-08T13:26:00.008-05:00

I met a boy with the cutest smile. The kind that elicits a mirrored happiness so spontaneous and true. I turn my head in his direction every chance I get and step into his path even when mine should not cross, only to see that smile once more. Just as quickly though, he turns the corner, walks away. Sometimes we turn our heads at the same time and I feel like the star in a French movie... minus the mist, minus the rain. But as he disappears out of sight I ask myself only one question -- did I just imagine that?

2009-03-07T12:21:00.002-06:00

There is a certain sadness in reading old entries. I always try to recall the "past me" and compare it with the present. What changed? What hasn't? I find that my writing was so much more personal back then. I dared to put it out there more, not afraid to be corny. Now, I'm more guarded and aware. Just the other day I peeled off the Hello Kitty band aid because it seems not age-appropriate or work-appropriate or some other kind of inappropriateness (sorry, Maria).

Do you ever wonder how other people see you? I have this secret fear that I am completely off base when it comes to my perception of the persona I present forth every day. Of course I have asked my friends... but their answers are superficial. Maybe they don't want to tell me the truth. Maybe I tune out the truth because I don't want to accept it. Last night my friend said -- you're like a princess. What the ****?! I think he said it without giving it any thought, unaware of the effect it would have on me. I hate it when people do that!

I haven't studied for a test in quite awhile, dating back to Step II in September. That is why this Saturday morning, confronted by the upcoming Neurology exam next Friday, I find myself in an unfamiliar state of mind.

Am I... anxious about procrastinating?

I uploaded onto Facebook all the pictures I have been thinking of uploading, baked some short bread cookies, looked for cake recipes for my friend's birthday next week, dusted my computer keyboard, changed my blog format, updated my blog, re-read old blogs, and almost painted my finger nails...

2009-03-07T08:01:00.000-06:00

Bobbie Flay was making mussels and fries (moules frites) on Throwdown yesterday and it only intensified my perpetual craving for mussels and fries. Since I can't drive to Houston for Cafe Rabelais or visit DC's Granville Moore, I called my friend for the closest best-thing: Cafe Degas. A most romantic French Bistro with covered balcony, twinkle lights, candles, and fresh flowers on every table. Nothing like harmless gossip and skinny, long golden fries dipped in savory fennel broth to chase away any weekday blue.

2009-02-28T16:12:00.000-06:00

A French Quarter ghost tour leaves much to be wanted. My tour guide had cigarette in one hand, alcohol in the other, and a most circumferential speech pattern that makes me shift uncomfortably from one foot to the other. My friend said - wow, I never realized how short your attention span is. For the rest of the night, I couldn't follow their conversation about the tour since I only paid attention to one single story about an Irish prostitute named "Marie". My friends wondered if I had gone on the same tour at all. :)

The tour starts at the Voodoo shop. Cost per person? 20 dollars.

It wasn't long before I needed a drink, or two, to get me through it.

Apparently this famous French Quarter restaurant is haunted... I can't tell you why, I wasn't paying attention to my tour guide.

Dinner, on the other hand, is a completely different story! Restaurant Stella! How could you not love a place with an exclamation mark in its name. The food isn't creole, isn't French, but rather Asian inspired. Edible art that is as delicious as it is beautiful, that is hard to come by outside of New Orleans.

I can't remember what this complimentary dish is, something with mango and lobster and taro on top... I do remember it was very delicious.

Lobster inside an egg? and truffles on top!

Spicy Asian Shrimp!

Scallops, Gulf shrimp, andouille potato hash, all in caviar butter....

Duck Five Ways! Foie Gras won tons especially received great reviews.

My favorite part of the meal: Banana Foster French Toast with candied walnut and plantains.

Just when we began to lament the end of dinner, nothing like complimentary coconut marsh mellows and softest dark truffles to cheer us up!

The end of another happy day playing tourist in the Big Easy! Yay!

2009-02-24T18:48:00.001-06:00

Today is Fat Tuesday, the end of Carnival Season. I woke up at 6am to get ready for the last big parade by Rex, the oldest Krewe of all.

6pm. The TV is tuned to the local coverage of Mardi Gras. I'm feeling quite sad to see the end my first but hopefully not last MG experience.

The entire four years I've lived here, I have always left the city during Mardi Gras... Rotations, traveling, going home... The particular brand of "carnival" I associated with New Orleans has meant nothing more to me than bad traffic and more frequent than usual ambulance siren. So what was I missing? This year, while checking flights out, it occurred to me what a mistake it would be to leave my beloved city without ever experiencing its most (in)famous holiday. As soon as I thought of this, I couldn't bare to leave.

When navigating through chaos, the most important thing a person needs is an insider. I knew I found her when my friend's excited voice over the phone exclaimed "I love Mardi Gras and I LOVE to share my love of Mardi Gras with others."

Perfect! Share it with me!

Muses is an all women Krewe and their theme is always "shoes". It's a night time parade on a particularly chilly Thursday night. I wore my "almost" Mardi Gras coloured scarf and most comfortable walking shoes.

See these amazing shoe bracelets? You have no idea how hard I had to work to get one... Nothing indecent, of course. Just when I was about to give up, someone threw one at me. Please note the huge silver bead around my neck... A lot of hard work went into getting that one.

Rex is the early Tuesday morning parade. Never seen so many people so early so alert and ready to party!

This and a couple of pictures below are taken by my friend Sanyo... I have a serious case of camera envy.

Did they know it was the year of the Ox?

Why do we bother screaming and jumping for beads when they're EVERYWHERE?!

My beautiful parade buddies. Sanyo calmly took pictures while Thuy and I screamed silly for beads. I hung plenty around his neck though, as my own becomes quite heavy after awhile.

2009-02-22T07:04:00.000-06:00

I did find the price for the dress. It was so high my heart hit the floor. It's insensible, even for my frivolous taste. That's the thing with Vogue. I have to keep that fantasy world separate from reality. It's dangerous when I start thinking "maybe if I don't eat or drink or buy anything for a year... I can buy this dress... so perfect for brunch..."

2009-02-21T13:16:00.000-06:00

This dress in the latest Vogue reminds of the shirts I see my mom wearing in old photographs. Soft silk or chiffon that seems to move even in still frames, creating its own swirls of air. I am absolutely in love with it, and wish I could find a price tag to know how out of reach it really is.

2009-02-16T17:08:00.000-06:00

Woody Allen looks old in the new Vanity Fair spread. Makes me sad...

I started Neurosurgery today. It wasn't bad at all. I'm waiting for my good luck to run out and the anticipation of doom is making me nauseous. I have to work very closely with someone that used to (but no longer) means the world to me, so it's important to keep a level head for the next two weeks. Must not revert back to old mistakes. I see people do it alllll the time. Must not be one of them.

Many years ago (four to be exact), my friend Michelle baked me a chocolate amaretto birthday cake so good it blew me away! I should have begged for the recipe right then and there except I never imagined that I would one day own a bundt pan. So... you can imagine how happy I was when she emailed me the recipe, with a surprise ingredient that I never would have thought of but could very well explain the magic of this cake. I'm going to make it before sharing the recipe, just in case my memory played a trick on me.

I'm not going to buy any more clothes no matter how lovely. I'm also going to stop buying cooking magazines and books until I've tried the ones in my recipe book, now bulging with clippings. I will, however, get the new Vogue... just soon as it comes out.

2009-02-15T14:39:00.000-06:00

This Valentine's Day is bittersweet, just like the chocolate I used for my Chocolate Pomegranate Torte. The sweet part being my dear friend who threw a dinner party with lots of hearts and kisses. The bitter part being... well, you know who you are.

I can't help but recall the very first dinner party that ever took place in Thuy's apt, after the first test second year when we returned to New Orleans after Katrina. That was the first time I ever made bread pudding, with Thuy's recipe and supervision. To think that I almost chickened out and didn't think I had it in me to make a creamy custard.

For this dinner party, I decided to make the chocolate-pomegranate torte on the cover of December's FINE COOKING. My biggest fear when making any chocolate cake is that it turns out to be nothing more than a fancy brownie that took five hours to prepare. I had to fight every urge not to have a back-up chocolate cake, something safe and fluffy, preferably with buttermilk. But I know for my torte to even have a fighting chance against my friends' sweet-sensitive palates, it had to be the solo star of the dessert table.

So... I faithfully folded egg whites into the dense chocolate batter (72% cocoa); simmered, reduced, and strained pomegranate/cranberries to make a tart jelly; and early Saturday morning, I put a shiny dark glaze to cover the whole thing.

The end result, as you can see, is quite worth the labor. Something that tastes as pretty as it looks is a rare find. The sprinkle of fresh pomegranate seed makes it elegant yet sweet. And this glaze, while suspiciously shiny, still has the soft and earthy richness of fine dark chocolate.

The layer of pomegranate jelly between the torte and glaze is hard to see, but believe me its presence is quite necessary. A tartness to balance the bittersweet chocolate. The torte is actually quite moist, despite what this picture may show. Next time, I will use 70% chocolate instead of 72%. It turns out that had I read the article more carefully, I would have learned that darker the chocolate, the more crumbly and dry the cake will turn out to be.

The hand-dipped strawberries always look so heavenly in the Godiva store. So I bought some long-stemmed strawberries and made my own! Tuxedo styled. :)

Thuy... always the perfect hostess.

Doing the dishes... Not bad at all... :)

2009-02-11T08:21:00.000-06:00

Dinner last night at La Crepe Nanou was part pleasant, part sticky. Why must people be moody? And worse yet, why must you displace your bad mood onto other people? If you can't snap out of it, stay home!

That's harsh, I know... but a week day gathering of old friends over steaming mussels and chocolate crepes should be better-than-Xmas-morning good. I'm bitter because there are only 3 more months left before I leave them, before I have to fake smiles and force conversations with NEW acquaintances who may or may not ever become good friends. Sigh... I'm so exhausted just thinking about it.

Valentine's Day dinner party! I've decided on a chocolate-pomegranate torte and Juliet Kisses! The torte will be much too sweet for my friends who prefer whipped cream icing instead of butter cream... but it's for the ambitious baker in me... I couldn't resist the thought of making a pomegranate jelly! A fine skill to have under my sleeve and brag about, don't you think?

2009-01-30T08:20:00.001-06:00

I have a lot going on in my mind. Is that why I have been waking up at 3:30 am for the past two days? It's not pleasant, this insomnia thing. I can see how people can go crazy.

Slumdog Millionaire goes on my list of favorite movies. It also goes on my list of movies I would never watch again. It is heart wrenching, spares no graphic detail. I had to look down (or up, or not at all) a couple of times. The plot? Not the point at all. It's the backdrop of this film that I walk away thinking about, and probably will always think about when I encounter anything Indian for the next couple of months.

All mornings do not start off equally. Some leads to the corner I've been waiting to turn. There is no guarantee what lies ahead, of course... but there it is, something new!

2009-01-19T08:31:00.000-06:00

Sometimes I refuse to feel better. If I didn't, I would sleep with this book. I would keep a copy in every room of my apartment. I would read it instead of watching TV. I would read it instead of blogging.

I'm going to mail a copy to my "little swallow" (literal translation of her Chinese name). She is in DC! From China!! For three years!!! Here is when no amount of exclamation marks or adverbs layered on adjectives layered on grandiose vocabulary could express how utterly shocked and happy I am. Sure, she is still rather far, I still can't see her right away, but we are in the same country!!! I haven't spend quality time with her since I was seventeen! Our last reunion in 2005 was only 48 hrs and so very rushed.

I'm also going to mail her a package of gumbo mix! I think cooking has never been her forte and I still remember my first bite into a hamburger when I first came to the US... the taste of pickles was so disgusting it would take months before I give hamburgers another try (must have been a whopper). There is something about the spices in gumbo that agrees rather well with even the most unaccustomed/picky of Chinese taste buds. Plus it's easy to make. Plus I just want to send her stuff.

http://www.elizabethgilbert.com/eatpraylove.htm

2009-01-18T14:21:00.001-06:00

Today is a historic day in my country, and this entry is just my way of saying -- I'm here. This happened in my time.

The day Barack Obama was elected, about twenty TV stations televised the last twenty minutes of the election. I flipped the channels without pausing, a blur of balloons and confetti. I did stop for one full minute on one particular image, long enough to formulate what this election meant to me.

The image was a little girl sitting high on her dad's shoulders, waving the American flag with such excitement that her blond curls went wild. She couldn't be more than five, and the big smile on her face convinced me that she grasped fully the significance of this election, had toiled for the president's win, and was so proud of the victory. I thought: how special, for this one moment in time, there isn't an ounce of racial prejudice in her heart. She truly loves her President, as only a child can. Then I thought how amazing it would be for a whole new generation to grow up with an African American man as their President, if only for the personification of racial equality, an extra weapon to fend off bigotry. I hope all the narrow-minded conservatives slept a little uneasily that night, and their festering beliefs shaken just enough to let some new air in.

I also hope once the Inauguration is over, my new President won't continue to be a celebrity, at least not in this blindly-worship-and-douse-with-impossible-expectations sort of way. I hope he does wonderful things for the country. As of right now, he is what we need... and I'm thankful for what he has already done.

2009-01-16T13:20:00.001-06:00

A little trepidation on rejoining the home crowd. I've been away for so long. Three more months of rotations, then it's almost graduation time. Sounds fast, but can feel like an eternity when the immediate future is so uncertain. I don't even know where to report to for clinic next week. How I would like to climb back into Linda N's sofa bed, curl up with The Traveler's Wife, and catch the late shuttle.

Beautiful hazelnuts. They are my favorite. Special little dome tops with pointed nose. I was careful not to burn them in the oven. That would be so sad.

2009-01-13T18:48:00.000-06:00

Just because I like a city, doesn't mean I have to live there for three years... Yet how hard it is to commit three years of my life to a city that I do not enjoy.

The city of Charleston had me at the first sniff of these road-side, home-made praline candy stores. I thought they were a New Orleans specialty and would never be found beyond the rain gutters of French Quarter, yet there they are on streets with such promising names (Market, King, East Bay).

I'm not pointing to anything in particular. The greedy smile says "I want it all". In the end, I settled on pumpkin fudge and warm praline. They made my tour through downtown Charleston, in the drizzing RAIN, quite enjoyable.

There were chocolate barks of every kind. This one in particular caught my eye because it seems easily duplicable... by TnL. I seem to remember some M&M cookies that were well received. This may be worth a try, don't you think?

A pot of gold! Actually, it was a barrel.

Look how clean the streets are, a striking contrast to my beloved French Quarter. I can make these critical comparisons without feeling guilty because I LOVE New Orleans, and we all know it's quite acceptable to criticize what we truly love.

Where to go for lunch? Not an easy question to answer when Charleston is a city known for its lowcountry cooking and entire magazines are devoted to answering this very question. So...

Bull Street Gourmet. It does not disappoint. Fresh sandwiches made from scratch by smiling cashier/chef/owner behind wooden counters. It's a local kitchen/restaurant with a steady streaming of customers lined up for their take outs. The famous chicken salad sandwich is dotted with cranberries and hazelnuts, creamy and crunchy...

2009-01-08T19:55:00.000-06:00

Interesting how well walnut goes with banana, like tapioca with milk tea. Pecans? Almonds? Not the same. I have tried half a dozen bread pudding recipes, but the simplicity and variations on this rustic dessert always makes it hard for me to turn down a new one. In fact, I have never repeated myself. The truth is good bread soaked in creamy sweet custard is good no matter what you do. Burn the topping? Scrap it off! Still good. Forgot the raisins? Sprinkle it on! Still good. My mom wanted me to make bread pudding for her, so I tried a new banana walnut version with raisins soaked in brandy. Oh so goo!

http://www.foodnetwork.com/recipes/emeril-lagasse/banana-walnut-bread-pudding-with-buttery-rum-sauce-recipe/index.html

Interesting that even though I insisted no celebration, I cannot forgo the need to feel especially special today… When I was ten I demanded ten presents (the tenth one, I remember, was a white fluffy stuffed animal hidden in my bed). I now prefer to spread out my material needs evenly throughout the year. I do, however, appreciate the cookbooks my mom bought without second guessing me with "are you sure you need these"? It was my birthday, and she bought me what I wanted with an obliging consent that I will miss... tomorrow. The pretty ribboned zucchini salad below is from Giada (her book I actually didn't buy). I didn't have asparagus so I sprinkled on some sweet corn for color.

Interesting how I don't feel a day over twenty… five?

2009-01-04T19:39:00.000-06:00

I had the same old discussion with my parents today, which almost dangerously ended with me not in tears. No such luck. My mom opened her mouth for two seconds and down pour the tears. They just don't get it. I don't get it. Is this going to be a sour topic for the next few months or the next few years?! Will this never be resolved?! Dear God, is there anything I can do? A class, a book, divine intervention?! I'm so frustrated I cry when driving long distances... I so wish to give up, but that involves stop living... There is no changing their minds, there is no changing my mind, there is no changing status quo... so... for now, some tears seem to be all I can do.

2009-01-04T07:36:00.001-06:00

My mom is on the computer with her best friend in China, via video phone. They're both eating sun-flower seeds and talking about getting older, laughing at themselves between sounds of spitting out shells and talking over each other.

I'm reading Under the Tuscan Sun, a book that writes so elaborately about nothing at all (at least so far). Beautiful adjectives and modifiers lavished on mattress springs and broken table legs. It's not at all like the movie, which I rather liked because it's so people-centric. I read it for the parts that she talks about food, the pointed differentiations between buffalo milk mozzarella and regular cow's. Also because when I was little my mom told me no matter how labor-some certain books may be to read, the author put in so much work writing them that the least I could do is finish. I wholeheartedly disagree. There are far too many amazing works out there to spend time on the not so amazing ones... but her logic made so much sense when I was eight that I still can't shake it... Sometimes I rebel, putting down unfinished books for months at a time, but always retrieving it from the bookshelf when I can't bare its neglected binding sitting so sadly on my bookshelf, accusing me of mistreatment.

So I'm half way through my latest book, so I'm inspired to write about nothing at all, so continues my search for the next amazing one...

2009-01-02T18:02:00.000-06:00

Okay, so... ratatouille... I made it but I don't really get it... Don't be mad, all the ratatouille lovers out there, but it's just stewed veggies with some herbs... right? I keep thinking maybe when I layer it all together, the whole thing would take on this new flavor, but my zucchini still tasted like zucchini. The problem is I make too many things without having tasted them first (done the correct way), so I never know whether what I made is close to the way the kitchen gods intended. I want to taste Linda's before passing judgement on the dish... after all, there was a whole movie named after it.

What I loved from dinner are the thyme popovers I made! I've never had popovers before so I have no idea whether mine rose to the target height. But below this crusty top is a texture so light it's almost hollow, a fluffiness I like to pull apart with both hands between my fingers before putting it in my mouth. To think, I didn't even have the whole milk specified in the recipe... how good they would have been otherwise.

2009-01-01T14:51:00.000-06:00

Happy New Year!!!

Something delicious came out of my oven today -- a hazelnut cake with 2 heaping cups of hazelnuts, pulsed with sugar and a tiny bit of flour. The most amazing part is this cake calls for no butter! The nutty flavor really shines through. I baked this healthful dessert at the very first day of 2009, hoping to start a trend for this coming year!

2008-12-30T13:19:00.001-06:00

I couldn't get into the groove of baking this morning, staring at the recipes and missing Linda N's smooth, marbled kitchen counters. Sure, I have three springform pans and muffin tins big and small... but my stupid kitchen light buzzes like a mosquito when I turn it on. It wasn't until I started chopping up apples that I started to feel better, even dared to imagine the apple galette as pretty as the picture. It's still in the oven, I'm once again struggling over the fine line between gooey rawness and burnt crust. Thus the resetting of the timer for every 3 minutes... thus the cursing of the oven for lack of an oven light! Aiii... I do what I can.

I go home tomorrow, in time for New Year's eve. It's only been a couple of weeks since I saw my parents, so I dare say that I don't miss them yet. I do miss the people I more recently left behind, the old friends who snap into my present no matter how loosely we keep in touch... and I wonder, how did I ever get by without talking to them everyday. I resist the urge to text and call over random little things, just to keep them present a little longer. I don't count on the next time we meet (with xiao ming!)... life can be unpredictable in the worst ways... I have pictures to bring back the great friends I have, here and now.

I'm picking and choosing what I want to talk about... skipping over topics too complicated and convoluted to spill over my keyboard. I don't want to talk about the residency interview process, the false sense of security programs douse on their applicants and the uncertain aftertaste in my mouth after each trip. Before I rank programs, I need to rank my priorities... and that has been very difficult. It involves a balance of personal happiness and professional success... perhaps the two are mostly counteractive for all but the lucky few.

Something else I don't want to talk about is the dark cloud hanging over me for the past months. It comes and goes, more out of sight when I was reading "Eat, Pray, Love", but comes back at the most inconvenient times. It makes me sad when I should be happy, forces me to smile insincerely, and pushes me to participate in conversations I know nothing about ... so no one notices that I feel out of place...

Let's talk about how difficult it is to bake a cake or tart or pie for the very first time and not know what it tastes like before giving it to people. That first bit (mine and theirs) is pure torment, that moment of silent chewing before the verdict. Of course, I have taste buds of my own, I know perfectly well when something is good, amazing, or horrid... So is it appropriate to criticize my own baking in front of other people, or is that bad baker etiquette. I need to know.

Yet another new recipe from my new cookbook (Williams-Sonoma's Savoring Desserts). This almond sponge cake only takes a little flour, the rest are finely ground almonds (almond flour?). I love that. The texture is more substantial and satisfying, a nice contrast because it's very moist. One complaint is how sweet it is, and I skipped the last step that asked me to poke holes all over the cake and pour simple syrup all over it!

This Apple and Goat Cheese Galette is worth repeating! I know this because my friend picked his second slice with bare hands and ate it like a pizza! Such gusto is a great compliment. Of course, you have to like goat cheese... The puff pastry make this very easy, no kneading or rolling needed. I've been making a lot of layered apple desserts (all different, mind you), because that is the one staple I always have around...

2008-12-27T05:30:00.000-06:00

It has been a good month in Houston. So good that I don't want to leave, so good I'm making plans to come back, so good that I wonder wouldn't it be cool if my friend and I both end up here for residency. Yes, it has been a good month.

On my last morning in Houston, Linda N took me to our favorite crepery one last time... CoCo Crepes and Coffee. She was in the mood for anything Nutella and I wanted the old favorite - raspberry white chocolate mousse (no, it's not too early for this much sugar).

Thinking back, we realized that we have come here every weekend for breakfast
and that one time for lunch with the girls.

I miss it already.

2008-12-26T20:21:00.000-06:00

I got my first pedicure in the village with Linda and Linda (and Linda's Richard) and confirmed what I suspected to be true -- I have sensitive toes and very thin toe nails. I was trying hard not to say "ouch" or make any tortured faces... When I glanced over at the girls they seemed comfortable as can be with their magazines in hand and the nail ladies painting/filing/scrubbing away. This is all rather worrisome because I loved my pedicure and look forward to more in the future.

2008-12-15T19:34:00.000-06:00

I'm having packing anxieties. Apparently so, since I'm sitting on the floor surrounded by open suitcaes, unconfirmed iteneraries, short sleeve dresses, a scarf, a mitten, and this laptop I'm about to leave behind... blogging. Let me explain. It was 70 degrees in Houston this morning. Now it is 45 F. I'm about to leave for the Sunshine State tomorrow where it's almost80 degrees... but only after waiting thirty minutes in the freezing cold at the crack of dawn for the super shuttle to take me to the airport. What's a girl to wear? What's a girl to pack? My tiny suitcae will be filled up to the max with my suit and shoes alone.

Thus the anxiety. Thus the blogging.

2008-12-14T20:19:00.000-06:00

2008 is almost over, so suddenly. I'm back where I started, long ago. I find myself forgetting old grudges, giving the city another chance. There are so much to miss, after all. The hardest part was driving in, seeing the Fannin St exit for the first time in four years. I have exited here hundreds of times before, but never in the driver's seat. I changed lanes and missed my exit... by choice.

I burned toast yesterday. Reflexively I panicked, seeing the thick, dark smoke leaking out of Linda N's little white toaster oven. I turned on the fan, opened door, cracked on the AC, lit the candle… Suddenly I'm back in that cramped dorm room, where nothing belonged to me except the lavender cup filled with colorful pens. Suddenly my blond roommate is accusing me of stealing her ID, so early on Saturday morning. Suddenly I'm trapped within the hedges, with nowhere to go except the gym.

The smoke clings to the apartment, my current apartment so close to the med school, the one Linda N invited me to share with her for my month in Houston. I scrub the toaster clean, throw out the dark brick of a toast, and chase a fly out of the balcony door. The smell stays. Linda comes home. I tell the story. She laughs. I'm all flushed. She laughs some more.

I still wait for the shuttle every morning, which comes around only once a hour but drops me off so close to work. I drive all around the city, sometimes purposely muting the GPS to get off track, just a little. I haven't changed that much. There are still isles of stores in the Galleria I only peek into. I see my old self in all the old places, in every person running around the outer loop. I smile at her, and smile at myself because there are still so much of her inside me.

How appropriate, I'm reading The Time Traveler's Wife. It gets me thinking of the time traveling I do these days.

2007-11-26T13:45:00.001-06:00

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.

2007-09-10T19:28:00.000-05:00

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.

2007-07-04T12:52:00.000-05:00

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.

2007-06-27T23:03:00.002-05:00

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...

2007-06-09T22:20:00.000-05:00

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. :)

2007-06-05T11:39:00.000-05:00

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.

2007-05-12T13:25:00.000-05:00

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!

2007-05-12T11:17:00.000-05:00

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.

2007-05-07T18:30:00.000-05:00

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.

2007-05-03T14:24:00.000-05:00

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

2007-04-24T14:00:00.000-05:00

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.

2007-04-24T12:33:00.000-05:00

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.

2007-04-22T10:15:00.000-05:00

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!

2007-04-16T17:12:00.000-05:00

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

2007-04-13T21:03:00.000-05:00

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

2007-04-02T10:27:00.000-05:00

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?

2007-03-19T11:33:00.000-05:00

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!!!

2007-03-13T00:08:00.000-05:00

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!

2007-03-11T15:57:00.000-05:00

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.

2007-03-05T23:02:00.000-06:00

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.

2007-03-02T07:40:00.000-06:00

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.

2007-02-24T13:22:00.000-06:00

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.

2006-09-24T11:15:00.000-05:00

I wish for snow, the kind that will splatter on my new red coat. I wish for the familiar voices of friends who squeal “a new red coat!” I wish I walked outside for more than 5 seconds a day so I can feel the sun (the rain, the wind, the UV rays) on my face. I wish the speeches and pep-talks I give people penetrated my heart as easily as it penetrated my head… I wish it were easier to discern between the two. I wish I knew which tears are reflexive, which are responsive, which are 50/50, which are brave, which are weak, which I can trust, and which should be urgently wiped away.

I wish everything will be okay. Everything will be okay.

2006-09-22T15:30:00.000-05:00

Blogging is most fun when I don't have time to blog, thus why two weeks have elapsed since my last test and despite the myriad of life-altering events that happened, I am just now updating.

Note to self, don't sprinkle powdered cinnamon into iced latte, it will never melt, but end up between my teeth. Here I am, sitting in class, checking in my little mirror between every sip.

Another giant leap for Tian! You should all be proud. I confronted a past ghost with one sweep of a confession, and while the wound is still there (much to my impatience), I think time will take care of the rest. This is unfamiliar territory for me, leaving the door ajar after saying goodbye. I only hope my inability to completely turn my back on a rather special friendship is a step towards maturity and bravery, instead of sloppy indecisiveness. Besides, as Maria said, should I find myself diverging, it's never too late for plan B.

Maybe someday I can say more, spinning in a retrospective insight. But right now, there is too much hurt too close by. I am proud of myself for one thing -- I would never settle for second-rate affection, from anyone!

Another mirror check.

First episode of Grey's Anatomy Season 3 did not disappoint, can't wait for next Thursday.

2006-09-04T21:32:00.000-05:00

I had to tell my self stop, out loud, to close the Anthropologie.com website. I wish I could leap onto the page and touch each and every one of those beautiful garments, screaming to be loved. I don't have time to look at clothes I can't afford, and I don't have time to fool myself into thinking I can afford them. I don't even have time to type these sentences. I can't wait for the end of tests. It's like waiting... to exhale. :)

2006-08-26T16:40:00.000-05:00

I hung the dress on my closet door, sometimes putting my hand across its soft whiteness, sometimes taking a nostalgic sniff of scents long gone. Today, I put it away. Zipped it up in the black bag, said a silent goodbye, and told myself that sometimes in life, we just don't get what we want. It's not as simple as splurging on the shiny new phone, or finding excuses to buy another black dress... some things are out of our reach despite all efforts and determination. I must be getting old, because I've been telling myself that a lot, each time sounding more true.

And then to be fair to myself, life moves on. I can't guarantee I won't look back. But I dare say that each time, I will remember all the trials and error, enough to turn me back around.

My first test only two weeks away... I'm nervous. I won't focus on the two hour nap I just woke up from, or the fact that I'm blogging and not studying... I'll just publish this and go right back to Streptococcus...

2006-08-20T07:33:00.000-05:00

I told Linda to be patient, I told Thuy to be patient, and now, I'm telling myself to be patient. But at what point does patience become cowardance... an excuse to justify a standstill... I wonder...

Sunday, again! Tomorrow is the official three-week mark before round #1. I'm nervous.

2006-08-19T15:20:00.000-05:00

Never, in a million years, did I think I would hear Shanghainess echoing down my hall way, slipping into my little apartment! I heard it all summer, a world away. I hope those people walk by my door often, and deliver me a daily dosage of home.

I'm addicted to material possessions! I can't stop. Should I exchange my Sprint phone for something cheap or dish out 80 bucks for a beautiful new phone?! This new phone would only last me two years anyway... but if it's the ever so popular Kantana, it would me happy every time I see it (at least for the first week). If only it could deliver a couple of long-waited calls!

So here goes my Saturday... with only one noteset accomplished. I'm about to go running around the park with my little buddy. My first Ultimate Frisbee experience last week reminded me of how much fun it was to sweat outside. It's been so long since I ran outside... dating back to the outer loop with Maria! Remember those days???

Change of subject --
A bubble for two; that is what I have found. Sadly, one cannot solidify a bubble... no padding, strengthening, thickening allowed. It is ever so fragile, so delicate, so unstable, and yet I have put in so much, too much, of myself into it. On Friday, this bubble almost lifted off the ground, and I was reminded of how far it could go. But the moment ended with no lift-off, because I fear that like all bubbles, it would burst with distance.

2006-08-14T10:53:00.000-05:00

When did it all begin? He was waiting for the bus, standing so closely to the curb. I was either coming or going, but noticed him along the way. And that could have been it... except it wasn't. He stayed close, but ever so far. He put his arms around me, but alwasy kept his distance. There were words, but no truth. I stepped out of his world, further away. Years elapsed. And that could have been it... except it wasn't. Life happened, everyday. A million people passed by, everyday. I pushed thoughts of him aside, everyday.

2006-08-12T09:57:00.000-05:00

I'm willing myself to admit it, maybe I am lonely. But I must also will myself to become stronger, just in case the long road ahead gets even worse. Just last night, the short distance I traveled, by myself, as my friend pauses to wait for her significant other, is quite symbolic. She timidly asked to me wait with her, wiggling in fear that I should... It's those times I wish I had someone of my own to wait for, to count on. But I mustn't look for distractions, for substitutions, for second hand affection. I must face the emptiness head on.

2006-08-12T01:23:00.000-05:00

退一步，海阔天空。

There must be no shame or regret associated with something so beautiful. I put my best foot forward, literally. If it isn't well-received, that is no fault of my own. That time, that place, that person... it's all apart of something bigger than I could over-step. I sought confirmation, proof, concrete words... when what I really needed is simple action, sadly absent. So... I'm trying, trying, trying... to step back, to move on. To let 缘份 do its thing... one more time.

That is not to say I will remain idle... This is my life, after all.

My first pair of Aldo, just to make Thuy proud. Actually, she couldn't have talked me out of it... there is something timeless about short heels that those 3-inches, no matter how glamorous, just can't compare.

2006-08-10T16:36:00.000-05:00

When other people are busy looking for someone trustworthy and dependable, I wasted all my time searching for the feeling, the spark... and what have I ended up with? A few transient moments of breathlessness for an infinity of anguish and pain. While life is a roller coaster of ups and downs, is it not better to trot more leveled ground... especially as we get older, and our hearts get weaker.

It is only the third week of school, and already I feel battled and worn. I suppose if it must go down some time, it is better to put up that white flag in the beginning, where there is still time to recover, re-group, and find a brave face. This too shall pass, right???

It is not a tragedy yet, for thankgoodness, I'm still young. There is no need to right past wrongs, but time enough to learn from my mistakes.

2006-08-06T00:42:00.000-05:00

Follow up blog --

Is the truth staring me in the eye, but I refuse to see it? I have acquired a few more memories, a few more decorations for the lonely corner of my imagination. But reality is no better... Everyone tells me to be patient... Fine!