Super Girls

There is a craze going on now here in Beijing over the "Super Girls." They are the Chinese version of "American Idol." There were approximately 150,00 women all over China are vying to become the next "Super Voice Girl" and now they are down to three. The show has apparently broken records with immense numbers of viewers and text message voting. The final chance to vote for the Super Girl comes this Friday. The photo to the left shows the final three contestants and the host. I'm not sure who is who.

Maybe i might run into one of them this week....

As we were walking out of the hotel lobby this morning, we noticed a huge crowd of groupies armed with cameras, posters, autograph books, and flowers. They were lined up just outside the front entrance. The concierge lined up with other staff members to form a human wall, in case the groupies decided to storm the lobby. At first i thought it might be some American celebrity here filming a shampoo commercial or something, or a local fim star. Someone told us that the Super Girls are actually staying at our hotel until the final show Friday. Let's just say it is causing a slight stir around here...

So anyway, rather than walking out, we stood near the front entrance and watched all the hoopla. For a split second i imagined what it would be like if i were famous and how weird it would be to be greeted by massive crowds everywhere i went.

And you wouldn't be a real fan if you didn't hang about all day long. Pulling up to the hotel tonight around 10pm, we noticed a few die hard fans, still hanging out in the lobby hoping for a glimpse of of their favorite contestant. The Super Girl groupies are entirely made up of young women ages 15-21. i did not see a single boy/young man fan amongst the crowd of girl fans. Pretty super...

Reminds me of a film i saw years ago at the Seattle International Film Festival called Hu Du Men.
It's about a Cantonese opera singer who plays a man on stage. Every where she goes, middle aged women chase after her like little schoolgirls. If you can find this film, you should see it. It's really a wonderful film.

Although... the groupies downstairs are not chasing after a woman who plays a man onstage. They're certainly super crazy over the Super Girls! Wish me luck getting out of the hotel lobby this week. i should ask if there are alternate exits in the building...

Nothing but Blue Skies

My first glimpse of blue skies here in Beijing. Unfortunately, i had to descend to the B2 level to catch it. It's a bit like discovering Diagon Alley, a whole underground world markedly different from the regular world where people are fashionable and giddy--as opposed to the purposeful and determined pedestrians at ground level.

i got lost in faux daytime subterranean strip last night, as shown above. This underworld sits below my hotel. It's a maze of shops, restaurants, singing clubs, a small cinema, backdoor clubs, and an athletic club/swimming pool complex. Supposedly there is mini golf somewhere too, but i've not found it. There are no clocks, and no windows, unless you count the painted facades that scale the walls. It's kind of a mix between Universal Studio's City Walk, the Venetian Las Vegas, Lotte World in Seoul sans the rides, and any American suburban mall.

Women in dark pink prom dresses line the entrances of singing clubs, looking statuesque and bored. i passed by a small cosmetic shop, and the ultra hip woman inside sat on a chair near the counter, having a very pleasant nap. She was probably "resting her eyes," as my grandmother used to say. Men deep in thought pace back and forth in their golf attire shops. Couples walk hand-in-hand, girls huddle around tables hitting buttons on their cell phones, and old men sit on benches and smile out at nothing in particular.

i keep waiting to hear the ding-ding-ding-ding of slot machines. Rather than the wafting smells of deep fried onion rings, fries, and cheese steak sandwiches, you can smell ginger, garlic, cigarette smoke, steaming hot pot dishes, steamy ramen, and chlorine from the sculptured waterfalls. In the very faint background above the buzz of conversation and clanging of dinnerware, i could distinctly hear Air Supply's "Lost in Love."

People are refreshingly pleasant and warm. A shocking difference to the downcast looks and dismissive feel from 10 years ago. i ventured to the supermarket complex, "Wonderful." There was one whole aisle dedicated to various forms of Colgate toothpaste. And another full of international beers.

And lastly--i'm a total sucker for samples, not tasting them, but actually buying them. i feel guilty for the little "dine and dash" aspect of it, so i often end up purchasing whatever i've tried. As i left the check out counter, a pleasant young woman offered a taste of tea in little dixie cups. It was perfect timing, my throat was a little gravelly from the air in sunny city. The tea was warm and fragrant. The woman realised that i don't speak Chinese, and became giddy at the prospect of practicing her English. We laughed as i tried to figure out the bills of varying sizes in my wallet. After very little persuasion, i bought a tin of the tea, and also walked away, catching and carrying some of that giddy Beijing vibe with me.

Teenagers in Love

This is not the same city i visited in 1995. 85% of the world's largest cranes reside in Beijing right now--situated around the 2000+ buildings that are coming up as i type this. i'm in Haidian, the 4th outer ring of the city--close to Beijing zoo and the University of Beijing. All around there's a sense of purpose, a giddiness, a warmth, resolve, and wistfulness. i walk around, blending in with the masses.

Things:

-The perpetual grey skies prevent sunsets from blanketing the city. It's like living under a perpetual gigantic exhalation of cigarette smoke. Cloudy, not transparent, thick and heavy.

-I jumped out of my seat tonight at dinner. The culprit: a strange sea mollusk hidden in noodles--mistaken for a frog carcass. i worried it might have been leftover bits from the frog congee at this morning's breakfast buffet.

-Handsome men with stylish haircuts a la Shinjuku 3-chome, Tokyo.

-"Boiled Dork and Beans" a hot entree at the breakfast buffet at my hotel.

-Black sedans galore. Audi, BMW, Buick, Lexus, Acura, Volkswagon, Mercedes...

-Smiles and laughter all around. This energy in this city is like a teenager in love. Giddy, wide-eyed, hopeful. Also, this city feels wistful. A feeling of intensely missing someone you never liked all that much.

-Restaurants that descend into futuristic subterranean caverns. Icy blue transparent glass floors, concrete beams, black marble, plasma TVs on the walls of private dining rooms.

-Chubby pre-teen boys chugging coke, wearing Simpson's t-shirts and baggy skater jeans.

-An indifferent young woman standing outside a cracked sidewalk restaurant. She wears a long red dress, greeting people on the sidewalk, pointing to the menu board. Her hand lightly grips a fly swatter, waving it around like it was a long stemmed rose, pointing occasionally at the menu...Phad Thai, pineapple fried rice, fried bananas.

Beijing is vibrant and alive today. i am completely exhausted. i hope i'll get more than last night's four hours of sleep...

Tiny Frogs and Tequila

Kato san was kind to lend me this riverside camping photo. You can't see it here, but her caption reads, "Can you find the frog?" Cappy and I were doubled over in giggles with her hilarious photo captions. But seriously, can you see the tiny frog?

A few weekend observations:

-The further out you get from the city, you start seeing obnoxious business names. Case in point: "Krazy Kreations." It is some kind of print and pixel shop off North 101. Anytime the letter C is replaced with a K, i get this weird feeling. It's just sick and wrong.

-Kato san, Trish, Cappy and i drove by a horrendous car wreck on Saturday afternoon. We were heading to the local Philo market for our French toast breakfast Sunday. Suddenly the traffic slowed to a dead stop. I could tell by the horrified faces of those in oncoming cars that an awful accident took place. As we got closer, we saw a man being carried to a waiting life flight helicopter. Nearby, his overturned truck lay disfigured. Another equally mangled car hunched over sadly on the opposite side of the road. For some it was a wonderful day hiking and lounging by a river. And for others it was a day of unforeseen tragedy.

-A Two Fingers Tequila party in 1991 put me me off tequila for good. Until this past weekend. Tara shared some amazingly smoove tequila that did not make me sick nor queasy. Instead, i felt herbal without the herbs, chatty, yet very spacy. Lovely.....

-We stood at the bottom of a humongous redwood tree. I had a senior pictures moment, one hand caressing the tree bark, the other hand thoughtfully under my chin in a "what does the future behold?" pose. It made me wonder why senior pictures were always so cheesy. And why those outdoor senior picture poses never made those pill poppin' pot smoking kids look innocent.

-The o-musubi campers were wonderfully pan-Asian. Quite nice--i am quite the cultural misfit. i'm never quite sure where i fit in, culturally speaking. Though i must say, given my chop suey ethnicity, i'm feeling more and more Korean as the years go by. i'm starting to feel insecure if i don't enjoy good kimchee on a semi-regular basis. i recently attended a KYCC benefit dinner and it brought me to tears. It was a combination of the to-die-for L.A. kalbi and that Korean energy that is both intriguing and strangely familiar. ...Oh, back to the list...

-Camping was wonderful. Needed the huge fix of fresh air before i land in grey Beijing in about 22 hours. Why have i not camped more in my life?

Beijing

Strange to think I'll be in the middle of Beijing in five days. It has been exactly 10 years since I've been there. In 1995, I flew to Beijing from Japan to meet up with my parents and grandparents at the Swissotel. After a few days of touring with them, I rented a bike and set off on my own through the mazes of the hutongs (alleyways) without a map nor an idea of where I was going or what I was doing.

From what my colleagues in Beijing say, the city has become unrecognizable even to them. The largest McDonalds in the world has been demolished to make way for more development--modern housing, and more Starbucks, Outback Steakhouses, and Baskin and Robbins I'm sure.

The pennylane productions production crew is readying digital equipment, acquiring the necessary power plugs, travel guidebooks (Lonely Planet, as always) phrase books, and powering up the Gameboy. I look forward to breakfasts of youtiao and douzhi, and revisiting Wangfujing Dajie, but not jet lag.

I bought the homeopathic remedy "No Jet Lag," www.nojetlag.com which requires I take a tab before the flight, every two hours during the flight, and one more upon arrival. Hopefully it will help me crossing over all the time zones, but there's no mention of any help with cramped limbs, irritability, and general disorientation.

For now, Cappy and I are looking forward to a few nights under the stars, Sunday French toast and instant coffee with Luna, Joannie, Jack, and Erika, campfire stories, s'mores, sunflower seeds, hikes, and reconnecting with the o-musubi folks. Though at this point, it's less of an o-musubi group as it is an o-platelunch bunch : )

6 Feet Under

Before i start this post i must reassure Kelly that I will not reveal any spoilers--i know you and Matt are anxiously awaiting for the DVD of this season. I can't believe the media has revealed some serious plot breaks, but even so, it won't take away from what you'll experience this season...

I'm quite sad that this show is coming to an end, but appreciate the fact that they're ending it on a high note, rather than dragging it through another season so each cast member can make millions per episode. This season reminds me of the finale of a fireworks show--you know where they launch them in rapid succession thereby lighting up the sky? Each episode this season is like a finale of a fireworks show. I feel for these characters as if I know them personally. No matter what i say or have said, this is the only show worth watching on TV, other than a few on the Food Network, and VH1 specials.

It was all work and not much play here at pennylane productions this weekend. Sadly, no surfing expeditions, no visits to our foster pony P-Middy, no kayaking, no movies, and unfortunately we were not able to join Mijoung at the Cat Club for 80's and old school hip hop (would have loved to see my friend Black spinning again...mj hope you enjoyed it! We're SO there next time!) All this weekend work is for the possibility of a stressless o-musubi weekend before my trip. Will i make it? I really hope so!

Well-Intentioned

We just saw Brian Copeland's "Not a Genuine Black Man," it was truly moving and beyond my expectations. We heard tonight that his show is the longest running solo show in San Francisco history. It has been extended until August 27, 2005. See the show before you read about it in his upcoming book and on an HBO special.

This show reminds me of an article I read a while ago, "Unpacking the White Knapsack," which was written in 1988. It's about the invisible privilege that white people have, but often don't realize. By white people I'm sure the writer was not referring to white people who are actually French and not American, nor white but of a different religious background. She's talking about the inescapable fact of pigmentation. Check out the article--it's very black/white yet I am often bothered by the reality of #26,#27, #34, and #38.

Brian Copeland mentioned the often clueless ways white people try to empathize...like a white man telling him that he could understand how hard it was to be black and misunderstood b/c he had long hair and was always judged for it.

It made me think of Morgan, my well-intentioned white lesbian roommate who once told me, "Oh I can understand how you felt growing up Asian in a mostly white community. I mean, I used to come home and tell my mom, "Here's Pedro my Mexican boyfriend, or here's Kaya my African-American girlfriend...my mom would just freak out. I totally feel your pain."

Or the annoying yet harmless Armenian-American pizza guy in my college town. He asked if I was sad one day, and I told him I had just broken up with someone. "Oh don't worry," he said, "You'll fine some nice man. You're exotic!" Actually, i was sad because my car had been towed the night before and I couldn't retrieve it b/c the keys were locked inside. And as for the breakup, I felt giddy and free from my too possessive Taurus girlfriend.

For every Morgan, there are thousands of others who are completely incapable of any empathy whatsoever. It's best to applaud rather than critisize the attempt. I think Brian Copeland may have reached a similar conclusion. It's no fun trying to be genuine anything but your true self.

Job List

Maybe it's the boot camp, but the folks at pennylane productions are pretty blog-chatty today. Here's a list of my top 5 and bottom 5 jobs!

Bottom Five:

1. Entertainment Director at a hotel in Cancun during Spring Break
I can't imagine anything worse than being responsible for setting up beach volleyball nets, booze cruises, and opportunities for people 17-25 to drink as if their lives depended on it.

2. Accountant
In high school, I took a class called "Special Algebra," and barely passed. Enough said.

3. Story Board Artist
I'm painfully bad at drawing but can occasionally draw the Tubular One with dead on accuracy.

4. Copier Mechanic
I'm a miserable failure at dislodging paper jams and can't imagine that being a part of my everyday life.

5. Pet Store Salesclerk
I'd like everything about that job except for the fact that I'd probably be working within arms reach of the rodent section. I can't even look at that word!


Top five:

1. Driver of a Zamboni machine
I love squeegees and let's face it, Zamboni is one big squeegee!

2. Foley Editor
I'm fascinated with the artificial creation of realistic sounds. I caught the foley editor bug on the Universal Studios tour circa 1979. Forget about Jaws I thought, "take me back to the sound studio!"

3. Theme Park Ride Critic
Kind of like a food critic, but for rides--think Pirates of the Caribbean, not roller coasters. I'd travel the world writing and experiencing various rides. One of the best I saw was in Lotte World in Seoul. I think it was a dragon world ride, it seemed to go on forever.

4. Marketer for Dyson Vacuumes
...Because I think things should work properly too! I could seriously sort out that bloke.

5. Rollerskate Dancer
In elementary school, there used to be all kinds of parties at "Skate King." I used to fantasize that I was a professional rollerdancer hanging at the local rink--trying roll incognito.

Post Boot Camp

OK, I stand culturally corrected. Coach Joe was obviously a figment of my fearful and stereotypical imagination. Coach Jay (not Joe) was neither 5'7 nor an athletic Popeye the Sailorman type. Jay is an extremely fit, good looking energetic cheerleader. I say cheerleader because anyone who can motivate me at 7:15 for extreme calisthenics is pretty amazing. He loves his job. For me, it is one of my, if not #1, top ten worst jobs I could ever imagine for myself. Waking up early to motivate others to be the best they can be? I'd rather scrub pots and pans at a Korean bbq restaurant.

We arrived at the meeting place to find that the group consisted of only three people, including us! It was like having a personal trainer. We jogged to various parts of Lake Merritt park and stopped to do various strength and stretching exercises. Some exercises were from swimming training, sumo wrestling (!?) and some were from basketball. Squirrels huddled nearby munching on peanuts. Geese eyed us as if we were unwelcome guests on their territory. The time flew. I'm a bit sore, and probably will be more so tomorrow--or later today-- but you can't beat an endorphin rush that early in the morning!

Boot Camp

Cappy has signed us up for "Boot Camp." Apparently we're paying Coach Joe to wring us into shape twice a week beginning at 7.15 a.m. Originally, we had signed up for the 6 a.m.-7 a.m. boot camp session. This was changed for obvious reasons. Surely it will be good to completely shock ourselves into shape, yet I feel--or rather I think I'll feel --about boot camp the way I feel about drinking tequila. I hate the experience of it, but love what it does for me.

I imagine Coach Joe to be about 5'7, stocky, with a stride that keeps his buffed arms out in front of him, and a face like a catcher's mitt. He'll be wearing a tank top and polyester gym shorts--when we meet him he'll nearly break my hand with this "how YOU doin?" grip, while he checks our name off on his clipboard. Cappy will be all smiles bouncing up and down, stretching. I'll be cursing to myself, wondering how anyone could pay to be boot-camped so early in the morning...

We'll feel all worked out and refreshed by 7.00 a.m., terrific and ready to take on the day. Birds will sing a little louder, kids will seem a little happier, food will taste a little better... Of course this is said with the tone you hear in this posting. A tone between cynically thrilled and mildly amused.

Tequila shots here I come...

Day of Fire

Three major fire events today:

Firstly, we here at pennylane productions were rudely awakened around 4 a.m. by a high-pitched fire alarm. The ear aching alarm accompanied by a flashing strobe light was coming from the hallway. When we arrived outside, twenty or so neighbors were already out in different stages of shock, sleepiness, and surprise. Some lugged pet carrying cases with whiny felines tucked inside. Two extra long fire trucks, two smaller fire ambulances, and one fire car were on the scene within minutes. Fully suited firefighters carrying axes and oxygen tanks ran up the front stairs. We all gazed up and windows were pushed open, with black smoke rushing out. A local news van pulled over, and a cameraman started shooting upwards, scanning left and right. Apparently, all the madness was caused by a burning pan. Someone had left their unit and left the stove fire on low.

Secondly, a huge fire erupted on 101 North near Cow Palace. All of us at work looked out the window to see dark grey smoke shooting into the sky. We were relieved to realise it was only a brush fire. Thankfully it was not burning cars.

Thirdly, yet another huge brush fire has consumed 25,000 acres and have caused 4000 residents to be evacuated from Waikoloa, Hawai'i. Folks at pennylane productions have family in the vicinity, but not in the evacuated area.

A friend told me that on the 27th of this month, Mars will be the closest it's been to the Earth in recorded human history! Hopefully the fires of today are not any kind of foreshadowing of more madness to come?

Car Camping

We've signed up for the upcoming o-musubi camping expedition in Mendocino later this month. Supposedly it's "plush car camping" which means that your car is located within walking distance of your campsite. OK, but I just learned this. For a second I thought it meant that you camp out of your car. Or maybe that there is a drive-in deli on the premises? Or a spa in the middle of the wilderness?

Yes, I'm a pretty inexperienced camper. I can count on one hand the number of times I've been camping. When I was young, my family never went on camping trips, and I've never been to summer camp. My mom's idea of camping was letting my brother and I put our sleeping bags out on the deck. We slept under the stars on air mattresses. We camped not under the light of the moon but rather the glow of the lights from the dining room table. The closest I came to summer camp was watching "Little Darlings." Somehow, watching the misadventures of a young Kristy McNichol never satisfied my summer camp bug.

Other than skiing trips, my family's outdoors outings always had a specific purpose--plucking out a delicacy from either the mountains or the sea. We'd hike into the Cascade Mountains for matsutake mushrooms, graze for razor clams at Ocean Shores, pull up crab traps in Anacortes, or dig up butter-clams in the San Juan islands. The best part of those non-camping experiences was the lunches. My mom always packed the typical Hawai'i fare: spam musubi, corned beef hash patties, green onion/shoyu-sugar egg, portuguese sausage, passion guava juice, etc. At the end of those days, we always headed home. No tents, no campfires, no s'mores by the fire...

Well, I did go on one proper camping trip with my roommates in college, though I "don't recall" much of that weekend (read: wild mushrooms and really great brownies) So here's the big camping question, will it be a "Free Range Misty" weekend? We here at pennylane productions are not decided on this point. We know the Tubular One would love to camp with her pack. She'd have all the dirt to dig, tennis balls to fetch, people to greet, and various foliage to sniff. For dogs, camping with their humans is like Christmas, birthdays, and New Year's all put together. We're hoping she'll be up for it, but she's really starting to show her age : (

Cheer List

The common denominator with the following list of songs is the amount they've been repeated on my ipod this week. There has been a bit of need for cheer here at pennylane productions. Thanks to my Cappy and great friends I've been able to recapture my usual buoyancy....And with that, another song list!

1. Repetition-Information Society
I've re-discovered this song after more than 10 years and could easily sing along. I love the Casio friendly melody and the quasi Howard Jones/Thompson Twins sounding vocals.

2. Ceremony-New Order
This song captures a mood that warms me in a warped kind of way. Reminds me of wintry Seattle nights, pining and procrastinating in grad school. I love the synth line and the gentle guitar line that comes later in the song. You know which one I'm talking about.

3. Always- Atlantic Starr
I've loved this song since high school. It's totally cheesy and so wonderful. "Ooh you're like the sun....." I can never tire of this song. There-- I've said it.

4. Coqueiro De Itapoa-Caetano Veloso
I first heard this song in the early 90's from my Japanese friend who had lived in Salvador de Bahia, Brasil. I immediately fell in love with this singer and this song. This song is all about "saudade" a deep longing or yearning--an absolutely heartwarming yet bittersweet feeling I am quite frequently in touch with.

5. Ka Pua U'i-Israel Kamakawiwo'ole
A real sweet Hawaiian love song...reminds me of picnic lunches at Lilioukalani Park in Hilo, Hawai'i--kicking back on the grass with bento from Kawamoto Store, watching kids jumping off the tower on Coconut Island.

6. Such Great Heights- Postal Service
OK a post-2000 selection here. This song worked for me this week, especially in the mornings, getting into work, turning on my computer...

7. Le ciel dans une chambre- Carla Bruni
Soothing and luxurious. When my friend Nico played her CD for me the first time, I felt like Amelie, collapsing as water in the cafe. He knew I'd love it, and I did.

Cheers to the weekend; dinner frivolity with sharkiesmachine on Saturday and yet another surfing adventure Sunday!

Hair

Not real questions:

1. "Did you get your hair cut?" Said by a co-worker noticing another co-worker with an uncharacteristically much shorter buzz. Duh. Why not just a simple, "Nice haircut!" or "Gee your hair looks terrific!"

2. "Are you growing your hair out?" I stifled this retort"...funny you should ask. As long as my hair looks presently, actually I'm not!"

Speaking of hair---

Jeffrey won the "best in show" prize at the recent Eukanuba dog show. Jeffrey is a hair-riffic Pekinese. Apparently one of his best attributes is that he has a great physique. He probably logs in more treadmill time per week than me. He could be the equivalent of a mini-Arnold under all that hair, but who would know? Jeffrey is widened mop of long hair, with this perfect scrunchy face. All possible growths of fur on his little body are grown to the max.

There should be a whole new class at the show: "The Fur Group." This would be a cross breed group, including all groups: working, toy, sporting, etc. Or any dog that gets a lot of applause, fur that brushes the ground as they walk, and most importantly, their faces must be 95% hidden.

Winning this particular "Best in Show" is not the top dog (no pun intended) of dog shows, but the prize of $50,000 is no small chunk of change. That's a lot of hair grooming products. When announced as the winner, Jeffrey seemed neither surprised nor thrilled. He seemed quite indifferent, actually.

I liked the profiles of each dog, highlighting them like the way they show the Monday Night football starting line up. And of course the dog show commentary. When announced that a particular dog won for the best in its group he said, "Do you think he knows he's just won best in group?" And the other guy replied, "Well, I'm not sure if he knows but he looks like a happy fella." Many handlers commented, "He/she loves squeaky toys and all foods" as if it was completely unique to that dog.

The Island

***spoilers for the film "The Island"***

We just saw the new Scarlett Johansson/Ewan McGregor futuristic high tech thriller. Though the idea was not original, the futuristic details were intriguing. The white Puma outfits, mid-air transit, the pristine and minimal decor, etc. I couldn't help thinking of other films and books that have set the stage for this film. (Ayn Rand's Anthem and Minority Report are a few things that came to mind) Anyway, for nearly 130 minutes, I completely forgot about work, the fact that my arms were killing me (surfing training and yoga today....), that I live in California (?!), my friend Mark in London, and the fact that it was incredibly hot out at 8:00 p.m. tonight. I was was either giggling or grimacing throughout the film, but it was an escape--and that always makes a film work for me.

Here are some post-Island thoughts:

-You'd think in 15 years from now that the "products" could have been designed to have healthy replaceable organs, yet mentalities that wouldn't allow for problematic existential questioning?

-Clones developed to the mental level of 15-year-olds? Adults reading "Dick and Jane" aloud? This is not saying much for adolescence.

-Even if you're cloned with the mentality of a 15-year-old, at least you're manufactured with a superhuman ability to fall from skyscrapers without dying, dodge bullets, drive a futuristic motorcycles through buildings without a scratch, and instinctively know how to drive.

-I'd make a good "product." I actually didn't think the "island" was a ruse for something else. I envisioned healthy tans and long banana lines for those transported.

-If it ever becomes possible for people to purchase "insurance policies," will we say things like, "Botox was so early 2000's" or "Cryogenics? Yeah, right..." or "I can just feel that it's my liver you know, I can't believe we used to be desperate for just anyones!"

-Since CGI makes it possible for you to play against yourself in scenes, shouldn't you always be able to evoke "good chemistry?"

-MSN will have the monopoly on live action search technology

-Cloned humans seem to have "fugitive fortitude," they have no need for food or drink whilst on the run

Food Sabotage

Zao Noodle Bar is neither a bar, nor a place of noodles. No amount of upswimming plastic koi fish, and a variety of various Asian noodle offerings can compensate for the attractive yet unrealistic menu. We got the "tofu fries" with the peanut satay sauce. They're delicious and incredibly annoying. Don't ask me to elaborate on that. I love them, and I hate them. Note to self--never order phad thai unless dining in a Thai restaurant.

That said, I know I'm guilty of loving non-authentic foods, thinking it's THE real deal--or knowing they are not real and enjoying them anyway. I know, for example, that the Moroccan chicken couscous dish I had for lunch the other day was neither Moroccan, nor savory. And I know that the chicken adobo I had a few weeks ago at the Hitachi building cafeteria was not real adobo. The fact that it was served with cornbread and saffron rice proves that the cook staff should really sort their lives out.

And what about the countertop oden at 7-11s throughout Japan? When I said how yummy it was to my former co-workers, were they actually grossed out? Was that the equivalent of my distaste when my students from Asia would say "We had some great nachos at the cineplex!" Read: overly salty chips and plastic melted car seat "jalapeno cheese" sauce.

I call this "food sabotage." The worst offense is when you food sabotage your own ethnic food. For example, eating "tem-PURA" at Yoshi's. I pronounce it like this because it's not real tempura. I figure if I mispronounce the word, it's ok, I'm not really eating the real thing.

Language and Wisdom

"The sum of human wisdom is not contained in any one language, and no single language is capable of expressing all forms and degrees of human comprehension." -Ezra Pound

I've often felt that it can be somewhat of a handicap to be a native English speaker. Don't get me wrong, I'm quite glad that English is my first language. In my years of teaching English, I've come to realise just how difficult, idiosyncratic, inconsistent, and just plain tough this language really is.

If you are fluent only in English, you have no practical need to learn another language. You can travel through the Forbidden City in Beijing, in the southern islands of Thailand, waddle through train stations in Seoul...you'll always find someone who understands you, and someone you understand. After all, 2/3 of the worlds' speakers of English are not native English speakers.

This quote reminds me of an old friend that I've recently gotten in touch with after many years. Amid. He currently lives/works in the Philippines, but he is originally from Beiruit. He speaks four languages fluently, knows shockingly a lot about Japanese miso, and loves languages and linguistics as I do. He's is an eclectic fellow-- a poet, a scholar, a bit of a lunatic, philosopher, and a wanderer of the world.

We met in the late summer of '95. Amid was Marie-Noelle's roommate in her two bedroom apartment in the 12th arrondisement of Paris. I arrived in Paris nearly two weeks before she was to return from the Beijing women's conference. During that time and thereafter, Amid and I spent a lot of time, drinking, smoking, talking politics, philosophy, and about words and languages. We spoke mostly in French, a lot in English.

I knew it before, but I discovered how my perceptions were quite limited. Over many glasses of vodka, many herbs, sitting in a window over the narrow rue de Capri, I learned a lot about wisdom that I hadn't ever thought of, through words and concepts of languages I hadn't ever explored.

Reminds me of the concept of human wisdom. Imagine a circle, shade in a large piece of a pie, which indicates what we know. Then another piece of the pie, indicating what we don't know, and then shade in the rest of the circle, which indicates things we don't even know we don't know!

I think of Indonesia. Given all the languages in that country, one could say "hello, how are you?" in a different language every day for one year. Given that the sum of human wisdom is not contained in the languages I know--then for sure there is wisdom beyond my mere conception of wisdom. I find that pretty overwhelming, and comforting--in an odd sort of way.

Dog Time

For those of you who've not met her yet, or haven't seen her in a while, here's a picture of the Tubular One, a.k.a. Misty. Misty is a Gemini Jack Russell, a real swinging senior. On her left is her pal Jack. This is Jack's first taste of canned Duck and Sweet Potato. Mmm.... As you can see, he's not a picky eater. Misty loves to flirt with the big haired boy dogs. She's trying to catch his eye here, but he's a little preoccupied. She's a bit intrigued with her fluffy mate. Why is he so chill? What kind of shampoo does he use? What's up with that crimped tail?

I've been thinking about things that run on dog time. You know, where one minute equals ten and one year equals seven? I've compiled a list of things that I feel run on dog time. Here they are, please add a few if I've forgotten any:

Things that run on dog time:

-Cirque du Soleil's "O"
-surfing with Cappy
-holidays
-those all night talks when you're falling in love with someone new
-the time between getting off the ski lift and catching it at the bottom
-Sundays
-the time spent devouring Harry Potter books, especially #3
-weekday mornings from 6:30-8:00
-scuba dives
-dancing to really great music
-enjoying Korean barbeque with friends
-and of course...all lesbian relationships

There is a small bit of consolation for things that run on dog time. When I reflect back on things like these afterwards, they s-l-o-w..w-a-y...
d-o-w-n. In reverse dog time, I daydream, float, I wallow...

Not a Rock Band

Learning to surf was a dream come true experience. We're going out to repeat the whole thing again this weekend minus the instructors and the Tubular One. Lately I've been thinking of other dreams I've realised in my life. Here's one---a long time ago, I started a rock band. I wanted to be the drummer but ended up being the lead singer and songwriter.

In 1994, I was living in a town of 3000 in the North of Japan. My apartment was flanked by rice paddies and I lived next door to a Ken and Barbie couple from Myaaaad-ison, Wisconsin for my sins. We were the only gaijin in town. I survived the rural life with mixed tapes sent by friends from the states, 7-11 oden, mini-relationships, and writing, loads of writing. Most of the fun I had however, was a 4-hour train ride south to Tokyo.

I fulfilled my teenage dream of being in a rock band. I must add, by deliberately not playing the cymbals on the drums, Joanne said we were technically a punk rock band. A band, nevertheless!

It all started at a women's weekend in Saitama, Japan, circa 1994. Joanne and I conceived of the idea while soaking in the osento. We recruited a bunch of others that weekend to form "D.V.L." The Saggitarius from San Francisco, Michelle from Berkeley, Cowboy Sue from Texas, and the sultry Ingrid from England. Silvana from Sao Paulo was our manager, and Tammie from Seattle was our videographer.

We practiced in a studio in Nakano. Our usual times were 11pm-2, the cheapest time. We usually ended our late morning sessions slurping miso ramen across from the studio. We then crashed at Michelle and Silvana's nearby apartment. Our big break came via our only fan, Miwa who sorted out a gig for us in Rappongi. We were offered a second gig there plus the equivalent of $5 on every cover charge. Unfortunately, we declined. I believe we cited "shyness" as the main reason.

We may have been a one hit wonder with "Can I borrow your penis?" if it weren't for our other beautiful and evil songs: "Yamanote Line," "Peko the Lesbian Superhero," and "Tease of the Senses." Despite the fun we had, we were really in it for the t-shirts that were never made.

Do Not Repeat After Me

Words and phrases I care not to hear evermore:

-"Rag tag team of delinquents"
formulaic, recycled, and very tired film plots

-"Rocker Hubby"
nails on a chalkboard, say it aloud, eewww!

-"Yeah baby...that's what I'm talking about!"
awful on their own, and when put together, just horrid

-the annoying overuse of the word "actually," see sample restaurant dialogue below:

"Can I take your order?"
"Actually, I'll have a salad."
"What kind of dressing with that?"
"Hmm, what do you have?"
"Italian, Bleu Cheese, Basalmic Vinagrette..."
"Can I actually just get oil and vinegar?"

-"chick flick" and/or "chick rock"
egregious--the mainstream perception of gender specific music genres and film types.

-"rideshare"
the word, not the concept

-"Peace out!"
i'm sorry, but this has got to go!

-"It's a two-fer!"
yikes, i can't even look at that

Any other gems I've forgotten? (Kelly you'll have to remind me of others I've ranted about...)

Note to self: Always play "Come Dancing" by the Kinks when in this kind of mood--guarantee mood lift and involuntary sing along :)