Oceans

Tony Snow resigned as Press Secretary because he wasn't making enough money. Which is understandable, considering that his press secretary salary was a paltry $168,000 a year.

Can you name all 5 oceans? Don't look them up online, that's cheating. If you don't know, just wait for the answer.

This post loads faster in Japan

Did you know that in Japan, internet is 10 to 30 times faster than it is here -- and cheaper too? "The speed advantage allows the Japanese to watch broadcast-quality, full-screen television over the Internet, an experience that mocks the grainy, wallet-size images Americans endure. Ultra-high-speed applications are being rolled out for low-cost, high-definition teleconferencing, for telemedicine -- which allows urban doctors to diagnose diseases from a distance -- and for advanced telecommuting to help Japan meet its goal of doubling the number of people who work from home by 2010." [Source] Why is Japan always ahead of us in technology? Well, except for the iPhone.

Happy Raksha Bhandan!

I learn about these things living in Little India. Such a sweet holiday.

Gansevoort

Tonight I spent the evening at the famous Gansevoort in the Meatpacking district. The night was fine, and the view from the rooftop bar was excellent. You could see, below on another rooftop, the pool that Carrie wanted to go to in Sex and the City -- so I heard, I never saw that. It was not how I thought, I was woefully underprepared.

Lower East Side and Death

Walking around the Lower East Side today, I found that my favorite Manhattan falafel place, Askara Vegetarian, is now Ashakara Grill and Green. That's right, they've added hot dogs, burgers, chicken, and so on to their menu. Alas. Still great falafel, though. I stumbled across a number of places in the area I want to try, like Rayuela, and Open the Sesame, and Pangea, and Rockwood Music Hall, the last of which is a performance space/bar the size of a living room. Sitting there watching someone play is really like they're playing in a room of your house, it's so tiny and, um, cozy. And the music sounded cool. I'll go sometime.

Do you have a list of things to do before you die? What's on it?

Jacques Prévert

Are these Jacques Prévert poems really so good, or am I just o'er-enchanted by the French, which makes everything sound so romantic? (I don't know if anyone who reads this blog even knows French! But they likely know how much of a romantic I am at heart.)

Le Ruisseau

Beaucoup d'eau a passé sous le pont
et aussi énormément de sang
Mais aux pieds de l'amour
coule un grand ruisseau blanc
Et dans les jardins de la lune
où tous les jours c'est ta fête
ce ruisseau chante en dormant
Et cette lune c'est ma tête
où tourne un grand soleil bleu
Et ce soleil c'est tes yeux

***

Le Jardin

Des milliers et des milliers d'années
Ne sauraient suffire
Pour dire
La petite seconde d'éternité
Où tu m'as embrassé
Où je t'ai embrassé
Un moment dans la lumière de l'hiver
Au Parc Montsouris à Paris
À Paris
Sur la terre
La terre qui est un astre.

***

Trois allumettes

Trois allumettes une à une allumées dans la nuit
La premiére pour voir ton visage tout entier
La seconde pour voir tes yeux
La dernière pour voir ta bouche
Et l'obscuritè tout entière pour me rappeler tout cela
En te serrant dans mes bras.

***

Alicante

Une orange sur la table
Ta robe sur le tapis
Et toi dans mon lit
Doux présent de la présent
Fraîcheur de la nuit
Chaleur de ma vie

Miranda and the Chocolate Factory

Did you know that, before publishing Charlie and the Chocolate Factory, Roald Dahl cut out the character of a sixth golden ticket winner, Miranda Mary Piker, a teacher's pet and tattle-tale? If you're curious, read the missing chapter in which she, like the other children, meets an untimely end to her factory tour.

Israel is turning away and deporting back to Egypt refugees from the genocide in Darfur, without interviewing them on whether they need asylum. What the hell? Have they forgotten what it was for fleeing Jews being turned away by other countries? I know it's difficult to absorb so many people, but this is a pretty fundamental moral question. Damn.

Papdi chat and Imogen Heap

Today I tried my first chat (चाट), which is apparently a kind of Indian food served in bowls on the street as a snack. I always ordered dishes by sight (I want this, and that over there with the eggplant), because the menu offers no explanation of what "sev poori" or "kulfi" or "pav wada" is. (I actually ordered a kulfi once, and when he brought out an ice cream popsicle, I embarrassingly had to "change my mind"...) But I saw someone order something that looked special, layering different things into a bowl, and ordered one of those -- turned out to be "papdi chat" -- and it was so good! In fact, I bought another chat, "bhel poori", to eat later (which was good but not as good). And the next day [this is an update] I got "pani poori" -- little bite-sized fried poori balls (a translucent-thin bread fried hard like a cracker after puffing into a hollow sphere) that you break a hole into, fill with a potato-chickpea stuffing, and then pour the mint masala water into. In spite of the fact that it is bread and paper-thin, the poori is apparently waterproof, so you can eat the liquid-filled crunchy ball. Fun. I will have to keep ordering different chats randomly to explore this whole new thing. Really, I've always thought of Indian food just as okay, but I've been really craving the stuff all the time lately.

So, if you're keeping track of Indian things to try: 1) papdi chat, 2) kaju pista roll.

I just met my roommate's girlfriend. Her name is pretty. No, I mean, that's actually her name.

I keep hearing in my head the song "Hide and Seek" by Imogen Heap. Doesn't that not even look like a name? Apparently Imogen is a Shakespeare character. And doesn't she look just like a transvestite? Anyway, this song was used in the pretty funny SNL digital short "Dear Sister", and it sounded really good there, but actually that's only a part that comes near the end of the song. (And they used it because it was used as the music in a dramatic moment of The OC.) The point is, listen for yourself...

Kaju pista roll

I pulled 3 all-nighters in a row, working. Then I went to see Becoming Jane armed with a soy chai to sip when my eyes drooped. Didn't make it through a fourth night, though.

I've moved into my new apartment in Jackson Heights, which is Little India. Indians, Bangladeshis everywhere. I've been eating every meal at Rajbhog. Indian breads are so good... I've never cared for Indian deserts, but the Kaju Pista roll is really yummy, if you see that somewhere, try it. (Kaju = cashew, Pista = pistachio).

I invite y'all to my new neck of the woods, and I will take you on a culinary adventure.

Yu will do what I tell Yu to

First, another motivation to stay fit: exercise makes you smarter!

Second, is your life just a computer simulation, like the Sims? Tierney argues that logically, it probably is.

I just pulled two all-nighters in a row working on a project, and feel sick now. It's not pleasant. That's why I'm going to keep this post short. I am enjoying my new apartment. My roommate moved in last night from Shanghai. His name is Yu. When the guy moving out told me, "This stuff is for Yu", and I thought it was for me, I realized that the comic possibilities with a name like that are endless. :P

Last night I also met two other "roommates", little mice in the kitchen, they are soooo adorable! Like two little Stewart Littles. I know many people don't like mice, but to me, it's like having a puppy infestation. Just makes me say "Awwww...."

Oh, yesterday was Mark Melnyk's birthday, and this weekend he's getting married, so a shout out to my homeboy on his special day: mad props, and represent!

Let me add a peeve: Why do people keep pronouncing Venezuelan president Chavez as "Shavez"? For that matter, why do people call former Chilean dictator Pinochet as "Pinoshay"? And why do people pronounce Beijing as "Beizhing"? Do people really like saying everything foreign as if it were French? It's not like we talk about Vice President Dick "Shenay". (By the way, Chavez's first name Hugo is pronounced "Oo-go", "h" is silent in Spanish. So get it right.)

Living ain't cheap

Last year numbers:
Average rent, Manhattan studio: $2000 (up from $1660 when I moved here)
Average rent, Manhattan 1-bedroom: $2700 (up from $2200)
Average rent, Manhattan 3-bedroom: $5500 (up from $4100)
[Source, does not include rent controlled/stabilized apts]

Prices have been shooting up without slowing. Everyone ♥ NY!

七夕 Qixi

Tomorrow is Chinese Valentine's Day (pronounced Chee-shee), known as the Night of Sevens, because it takes place on the seventh day of the seventh month of the Chinese calendar. The stars Altair and Vega are high in the night sky, and the Chinese tell this story.

A young cowherd named 牛郎 Niulang ("the cowherd", the star Altair) happened across seven fairy sisters bathing in a lake. Encouraged by his mischievous companion the ox (yeah, sure, blame it on the ox), he stole their clothes and waited to see what would happen. The fairy sisters, not knowing what to do, picked the youngest and most beautiful sister 織女 Zhinü ("the weaver girl", the star Vega) to retrieve their clothing. She did so, but since Niulang had seen her naked, she had to agree to his request for marriage. She proved to be a wonderful wife, and Niulang a good husband, and they were in love and very happy together. But the Goddess of Heaven found out and was furious. In some versions of the story, she is mad that a mere mortal has married a fairy, whie in others, she is mad because the marriage has taken her away from her job of weaving colorful clouds in the sky. Taking out her hairpin, the Goddess scratched a wide river in the sky to separate the two lovers forever, thus forming the Milky Way, which separates stars Altair and Vega. Zhinü must sit forever on one side of the river, sadly weaving on her loom, while Niulang watches her from afar and takes care of their two children (nearby stars β and γ Aquilae).

But once a year all the magpies in the world take pity on them (in some tellings, the Goddess of Heaven takes pity on them and commands the magpies) and they fly up into heaven to form a bridge over the star Deneb so the lovers may be together for a single night, the seventh night of the seventh moon.

How romantic and sad. So, do something romantic tomorrow :) Sit under the stars and tell the story...

GLAT question

Ariella said she was bored, so here's a puzzle from the Google Labs Aptitude Test. I couldn't get it even after a long time, but other people got it pretty quickly and made me feel stupid. Here's your chance to do the same.

What number comes next?

1
11
21
1211
111221

If you already know the answer, don't ruin it for everyone else.

Also, if you like Mario Brothers, then you can play PETA's new KFC/Pam Anderson game.

An End To Privacy

The government will start turning its satellites on the US, for law enforcement and whatnot. These satellites have much better resolution that Google images, can see through clouds and see by infrared at night, and can watch you in real time. [Source] It's kind of scary that the entire concept of privacy seems to coming to an end, but at least now we can imagine we have privacy, even if some government dude is watching. But, with time, what's to stop Google from doing the same thing and making it available online? Just think...

There are already lots of cameras watching you in public spaces -- police and private security cams, red light and speeding cams, random web cams -- how long until Google or someone puts a cam on every house and every corner so that you can watch anything, anywhere, live and anytime you want online, with sound?

I don't know if it's a bad thing or not -- it will make it harder to lie and cheat, for one -- but I'm pretty uncomfortable with it. What do you think?

The challenge, should you accept it...

Reward money for who can tell me where in NYC you can buy 豆花 (douhua) with QQ topping (I might settle for any toppings)? Or, where in NYC can you buy 潤餅 (ruanbing)?

This offer remains valid until I change this post to say I've found one or both.

The art of coffee

I'm so happy to be back in New York. But, hanging out in Columbia, Ariella's friend Moira visited from Seattle where she showed us a picture of how they make their coffee there with the foam in frilly patterns. I wonder if it's something like this:


New word learned: In Australia and New Zealand, "chook" means "chicken". So remember (or, in New Zealand, "rimimba"), be nice to chooks!

A Taste of Morocco

This weekend, I went for Moroccan food at the restaurant A Taste of Morocco in Silver Spring. I'd never eaten Moroccan food, and it was really good, especially the Bastilla, a large flaky pastry filled with cooked vegetables and spices, and covered with powdered sugar and cinnamon. I would have never thought to blanket a savory dish with cinnamon and sugar, but so yum! The restaurant wasn't beautiful, but they did have people sitting on pillows, entertained by a belly dancer, and pouring yummy mint tea from such a height that it separated into drops as it fell.

It was my sister's 3-year anniversary with her boyfriend, and she was happy to get a present. Monica, who'd just come back from Morocco, was dressed head to foot in Moroccan clothes, including henna on her sandaled feet.

Arch-Homo Mailmen

While visiting Columbia, I spend time with my nephew Cody, whose name is an anagram for "Forced Moody Howling". Actually, I sort of prefer "Godchildren Of My Woo".

His brother Jake is "A Tiebreaker Jogger Revolt". Or better yet, "A Vertebrate Jigger-Looker". Or, my favorite: "I Jerk A Regrettable Groove".

My sister, Homely Shirr, invited her boyfriend, whom she affectionately refers to as her "Interim Chivalry Owl" and who occasionally seems more like "A Wry Vermillion Itch" (and who, I'm told, "Will Vomit In Archery").

I didn't visit my other sister, the "Holier Alarm", but she came and hung out one evening, probably for another cupcake. I also got a chance to visit my friend "Thong Cinches" -- and those are the best kind of cinches -- whose perfume, "Hog Chin Scent", reminded me of my childhood days, in the barnyard, sniffing hog chins. I walked around downtown Silver Spring with her and her boyfriend, who treated her like a rockstar, for whom he was "Me A Horny Fan".

If I had any drawing talent, I would illustrate all this. The Spamusement guy would do an awesome job. But if anyone submits an illustration of any of these, I'll post it.

This post was brought to you by the Arch-Homo Mailmen.

Yesterday's 西門町

I saw these pictures of Taipei's 西門町 (Hsimenting) from 1971. Whoa, things have changed! It makes me wonder how much things have changed since I was there seven years ago.


For my non-Taiwanese readers, here's Hsimenting today:

Columbia street names

This may be of interest only to my family.

I always knew that the unusual street names of my hometown Columbia were named after poetry, but as far as I could tell, no where was there any sign of what poem the street names came from. There really should be somewhere to look them up. So, I did some research, and it comes to my surprise that the streets of my own neighborhood of Swansfield were named not after poetry, but after the paintings of James Abbott MacNeil Whistler and Winslow Homer. The neighborhood was named after this Whistler print of a swan on the right. (The village of Harper's Choice is just named after the owner of the farm on which it was built.)

My street, Millbank Row, was named after this 1871 etching of the Thames:
Yeah, I know: these etchings suck.

The oddly-named side street cul-de-sac Rum Cay Court was named after this Homer painting:
Rum Cay is a small island in the Bahamas, and "Cay" (an island created by tidal deposits on a reef) is pronounced (and often spelled) "key", like the Florida Keys, so residents of that street have been saying it wrong all these years.

(My best guess for Cedar Lane: Homer's painting The Cedar Tree Pasture.)

Now, when you walk along these streets, you know what to imagine.

My sister now has a house in the neighborhood of Longfellow, where all the streets are (obviously) named after the poems of Henry Wadsworth Longfellow. I'm not a fan of his. However, the derivation of her street is unclear to me, since Longfellow uses the word "mystic" in many places. A guess might be the Mystic River that flows through Boston, which is mentioned in his most famous poem, Paul Revere's Ride, since this is the only instance where "mystic" is not used as an adjective:

He has left the village and mounted the steep,
And beneath him, tranquil and broad and deep,
Is the Mystic, meeting the ocean tides;
And under the alders, that skirt its edge,
Now soft on the sand, now loud on the ledge,
Is heard the tramp of his steed as he rides.

Still, since her street comes off of Hesperus Drive, she might (or might not) be interested to read his poem "The Wreck of the Hesperus".

(Incidentally, and less interestingly, Brooklyn's Eldert Street was named after
the Eldert Homestead, land granted to Dutch settler Johannes Eldert in 1667, back in New Netherlands days. [Source])

100 Years

I just listened to the song 100 Years by Five For Fighting. And dammit, what the hell am I doing? I don't have a moment to waste...

Family issues

I discovered today that my mother has never come over my sister's house, and won't do so. Isn't that odd?

Tiramisu cupcakes take over Columbia

Today I made Tiramisù cupcakes from the recipe book Vegan Cupcakes Take Over the World (which has a blog). Everyone who tried them said they were the best cupcakes they'd ever tasted. They were amazing, and in spite of my better judgment, I had two and felt sick for the rest of the evening. You can try the amazing s'mores cupcake recipe from the same book. Thanks go to Sarah who introduced me to this amazing recipe book, even though she will surely never read this blog.

Billy Goat Trail & Fruit Picking

This weekend I went hiking on the Billy Goat Trail along the Potomac. It was the best hike I remember ever doing in America. It was fun because there were lots of rocks everywhere, and the views were very pretty -- and I don't usually find Appalachia very pretty. I was worried that the 100 degree temperatures would kill me, but it wasn't bad. Even caught sight of a deer, a heron, some turtles, but no billy goats.

Then we went peach and blackberry picking. It was strange to see such big beautiful peaches growing on a tree. Blackberry picking was more fun, because you had to find the good ones, which were not easy. The farm had some goats which were so friendly, climbing up on me with their hooves and nuzzling against me. Awww...

Finally came back to DC where I visited Sticky Fingers (which was fine, but really nothing special). What was special, however, was the utter transformation of Columbia Heights. right where I used to live used to be nothing, now seemingly overnight it is full of tall buildings everywhere, tall buildings full of fancy stores and nice restaurants and a beautiful theater. I don't remember ever seeing an area suddenly change like that, from utter emptiness to a plaza and major shopping area. Literally right next to, across from, behind, and all around where I used to live. It's great.

Finally, after years I had some good Ethiopian food.

Meanwhile, after for so long being outraged at the president's illegal warrantless wiretapping program, in which the president was listening in on people's communication without getting permission from a court (and without permission, they can listen to anyone for any reason or no reason, a dangerous abuse of power), a judge ruled that the program was illegal so Bush went to Congress asking that it be made legal. And Congress did! Even though the Democrats are in power now! How useless and depressing is that? Some Dems fought it, but others decided they didn't want to be called weak on security, I guess... dammit! The moral is, if you're talking to someone outside the country, assume the government is listening. (Don't be so confident if you're talking to someone within the country either.) [Source]

By the way, my phone is not working. Screen is dead, but I can receive calls.

A Taiwanese curmudgeon

On my busride down to DC, the man next to me talked the whole time -- four hours. Occasionally I would interject my thoughts, but these would be completely ignored as he went on saying whatever it was he was trying to say. And what a story. This guy was so very much my mind's stereotype of the traditional Taiwanese man. Of course, Taiwan is rapidly changing, and younger generations are not like that, but still, it made me happy that I did not suffer parents like him.

He was mean, controlling, racist, and so much more. He was from a very rich family: his father had 8 wives. When his family would ask why he has only one, he said it's hard to afford more than one wife in the US. Not many people could go to college back then, but being rich his parents could pay for the best schools and cram schools, and he went to NTU (the top university there). But he was raised with the traditional stern controlling parent who did not spare the rod, and treated his kids the same way.

If his son ever brought back a test with a score under 95, he would beat him. The man showed me his fists and made punching gestures. And his son went to Stuyvesant, a competitive school for the best students in New York, so competition for grades was fierce. When a teacher gave his son a 66, his son protested that his was the highest score in the class, and that the teacher was horrible, so he marched into the principal's office without an appointment and demanded that his son be put in another class. It worked. He told his son that he better not tell anyone how he get switched, or he will be beaten. He would tell his son that, if he doesn't like it, he can leave and be raised in foster care, by (whispering) black people. He told his son which colleges he could and couldn't apply to, and when his son got into schools like Columbia but did not qualify for financial aid, he refused to pay and had his son go to CUNY for free. His son was a snob who did not like hanging out with "poor people" who go to state schools, and also refuses to hang out with Asians, complained to his father, who would punch him. Eventually he applied to Wellesley with free tuition, which he liked because they were all rich white kids, but his father wouldn't pay for housing. Eventually his sister paid the bill. Finally, his father said he was sorry for being so harsh, "and in Taiwan a father would never say I'm sorry", so it was a big deal.

His daughter committed the sin of marrying a Jew she'd met at Yale law school. He said he would not go to the wedding. She has two kids, but he does not consider them his grandkids, because by marrying the man she has left her family and joined her husband's family. He says that in Chinese, people use the word "Jew" as a synonym for "cheap" (something denied by my Taiwanese friends). Lots of fun stuff like that.

It makes me happy that American influence has mellowed out Taiwanese society. Although those older threads have far from disappeared...

Penny Pingleton

I have to get back in the habit of blogging, so let's start with Hairspray. Seeing Baltimore in all its glory made me realize how very ugly it is. While the star actor can't dance very well (undermining the whole point of the movie), her friend Penny was hot (played by Amanda Bynes). The movie was utter camp, cartoony characters talking about reaching for your dreams and singing and dancing to forgettable cotton-candy songs -- it was silly fun but nothing more.

I'm in DC now, came down for a meeting, and so far the food has been super-yum. Real Taiwanese food at Bob's 88 (we have Taiwanese food in NYC, but it's not vegetarian), I especially liked the 臭豆腐 (stinky tofu). Whole Foods has some great stuff here too, different from in NYC -- who would have thought that "tofu meatloaf" would be yummy, or that the curry tempeh would be the only tempeh I've ever eaten which wasn't putrid?