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

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

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

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

***

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

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

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

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

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

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.

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.

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. :)

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...

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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!

Certain steps, once taken, can never be re-traced. For better or worse, I will not be the same. 2:55 pm, here I am... In a couple of hours, my heart will be somewhere completely different. I hope there is excitement and understanding, and communication (or one of those silences dripping with words)... But just in case I get that familiar sensation of a sinking heart, I hope I can summon some strength. It will be a noisy night, and those can be the most lonesome of all.

One shouldn't worry so much what happened yesterday, because you never know what will happen tomorrow.

That is my advice to myself as I sit here, book open, mind a million miles away. I haven't quite made up my mind to end this distraction, so you might say I'm indulging a bit before the crack down.

From this view out of the MEB window, New Orleans is beautiful. The clear glass reflects the clear night, with a distant cathedral top fluorescently lit up. My own reflection interrupts the view, but an imprint, an outline. I can focus in and focus on myself... or I can look beyond, and ponder the woos of the world.

But either way, you see, the night is wasted... for chapter 6 immunology came and went... leaving me no wiser.

I can't write diaries like I used to. The world of electronics have made hand written words much too slow, my cursive writing simply shortened versions of true thoughts. This is too bad, because the present is quite worthy of jotting down, for it has taken a long time coming...

Yesterday was my White Coat Ceremony, and I'm so glad I didn't NOT go because my parents couldn't make it. I told them those ceremonies are for the people in the audience much more so than the people walking across the stage. After all, if no one saw your flash in the spotlight (and there are no pictures to validate), who can remember those moments afterwards.

But I was so wrong!

It made an ordinary Saturday evening less than ordinary. Lasting or fleeting, I felt renewed and encouraged. It is necessary to hear cheesy adjectives, exalted claims, to remind myself the honor and privilege of the medical profession. I'm glad the ceremony took place at the beginning of the second year, after we have toiled and momentarily overcome... If this were at the beginning of freshman year, it would just be another naive salute to a profession I really know nothing about.

And there were pictures... many many. Some just a pose, a smile... others I can recall the exact angle of the face and brush of the hair... There were many voices, some just passing greetings, others still vibrate the air. It is not fair to remember, to lament... Once passed, the magic can only be re-felt, never truly recalled.

I asked a friend whether this will be a good year, and he asked me to define "good". I can't. Good is good.

Here is my blog for Camp Tiger, tucked away in the draft folder. I might have written it in China, and forgot to post it...

My little camper Kathryn is nine years old, has ADD/mild cerebral palsy, remained defiant and resilient till the end when she cracked down and told us she didn't want to leave. Oh, she loves us after all.

I held her hand and walked her to her car, telling her to stop picking on her fingers, to stop rejecting band-aids, to really use the bathroom when she goes to the bathroom... None of which she really understood, and I'm sure none she will remember. But those are parting words, and they must be said.

Block three came and went, just like that. Sitting immobile in a chair for eighteen hours a day, no matter how comfortable the chair, is unhealthy and not recommended. I’ve learned to love my fifteen minute naps sitting upright – lean my head back, pull the sweater over my arms, and pretend I don’t care about the pile of notes inches away. Sometimes I wake up refreshed, other times simply more aware of how pitiable this life-style is.

A small distraction intersected my bland but peaceful life. Thirty minutes of breathless trance, in exchange for three days of tearful psychosis. Don’t ask me if it’s worth it; I’m neither rational nor prudent. Just as it is easier to spread the ripple in a still pond, so it took no effort to shake up my life. It was his carelessness. It was my fault.

This is all for the best, at this particular time in my life. No time to part, when what I want should demand all the time I have. Since I can’t fast forward, can’t rewind, can’t play without skipping beats, it is best to put it all on pause. I shall do my utmost to retire this already infinitesimal role. In return, I ask only for the absence of anguish.

Camp Tiger Wine and Cheese auction. Great cause, beautiful people.
Nothing like a practical joke to lighten the mood in the red room. Marshall is the ingenius mind behind this saran wrapped table.
I miss studying with you Maria! Here is a moment of my weekend visit in Dallas, where she unselfishly parted with valuable studying time to entertain me. :)
VP of Fruits and Vegetables for life!!!