Quick Update

Hello faithful readers! I have decided to post a short update while I sit here in lab running an experiment.

Yilin travelled with me to Connecticut for Thanksgiving. She had the distinct pleasure of meeting a large portion of my family (most of my mom's side) and a number of my grade/high school friends. She was a good sport, said she enjoyed meeting everyone, and she was glad that I invited her along.

I ate a fair amount of food on Turkey Day. Not up to my usual amount, but enough to silence my cousin Ritchie who has been claiming for the past 3 years (or more?) that he would out-eat me. (To be fair, he put forth a valiant effort and we ate an equivalent amount of food.) We continued our tradition of watching kung fu movies after dinner (to the chagrine of some of my female cousins), and then crammed some dessert down our throats. "Full" is an understatement.

I will post photos once they are developed/downloaded, and make a slideshow. I was trying out some expired slide film that had been stored at 4 degrees Celsius since it was bought, so I am curious if it is still any good. (I have that film developed in LA at a fancy photo lab, so it will take a week or more to get it back and know the results.) I was also using a 35mm camera that Yilin is letting me borrow out of the kindness of her heart. I will post more about that camera, too, as I am going to write up a blog entry on my cameras in the near future. I know, it is boring unless you know/care about photography, but this is my blog and if you don't like it you can click on the "Next Blog" button in the upper right corner.

'Til I write again my readers,

Josh I remain...

The Lost Turkey of The New World

If you recall, way back in September I blogged my first Christmas tree sighting. Well, this trend towards 'everything Xmas' has continued at a ridiculous pace. I have seen so many "Holiday" (read as "Christmas") decorations weeks before Thanksgiving that I can't take it anymore. OK, so it isn't causing me to have a nervous breakdown, but something has to be said.

I won't rant on the increasing commercialization of Christmas at the cost of what that day is about (whether you are religious or not, it should still be a time of generosity towards those close to you). Instead, I will focus my efforts on the increasing neglect of Thanksgiving, which is without a doubt the most American holiday ever.

Thanksgiving is about being an American: someone who came to this country (or whose ancestors came to this country) to start a new life and seek out new opportunities. It's about hope.

"Keep, ancient lands, your storied pomp!" cries she
With silent lips. "Give me your tired, your poor,
Your huddled masses yearning to breathe free,
The wretched refuse of your teeming shore.
Send these, the homeless, tempest-tost to me,
I lift my lamp beside the golden door!"

(Lazarus 1888, 202-3)

Thanksgiving is the celebration of immigrating to this country, to the land of Hope and Liberty. Yes, there are many people who struggle once they move here. Yes, it is tough on immigrants. But consider the alternatives. Consider what other places in the world, for the past 400+ years, has one been able to uproot and leave everything behind, and have everything offered to them upon arrival (in the form of opportunity and hope, mixed with elbow grease).

Where else in the world can you be born dirt poor and die fabulously wealthy? Sure, some of these rags-to-riches stories occur at the equivalent odds of winning the lottery, but that isn't the point. The point is that it happens.

We forget this. We forget how much we have, and how much we take for granted. We care too much that our burrito didn't have enough beans in it, rather than caring that we were able to eat enough to fill our bellies. New York City is the best place to observe the ungrateful: I have had a "homeless" guy who was begging for change to buy something to drink refuse a half-full bottle of Snapple that I offered him. WTF? I have seen women in fur coats get into a heated argument about the coffee they just purchased with the guys who work at the donut carts where they purchased it.

These people forget what America is about. They forget what Thanksgiving is about: being grateful for what we have, giving thanks, and celebrating the fact that we are fortunate enough to stuff ourselves with food to the point of exhaustion, illness, and idiocy. Why? Because we can.

So when you are lying on the sofa, with grams of tryptophan flowing through your bloodstream, the post-dinner coffee and 3 slices of pie don't even have enough 'pep' to keep you awake, and you aren't sure if you will slip into a coma or vomit, just think about how fortunate you are to experience that discomfort.

Clean Sweep

Wow. Saturday I went to lab for a few hours. During that time, Yilin did something that no woman other than my mother has done: my laundry. She did about 4 or 5 loads. She then went through ALL of my clothing, sorting it into what stays (separate piles for 'regular clothes', 'gym clothes', and 'climbing/camping clothes') and what goes. When I came back from lab and saw this, I was amazed, impressed, and very grateful. Although this was a Christmas present to her, it benefits me as well (this is definitely something that I've wanted to do for a while now).

This is what is being gotten rid of:

• 32 shirts
• 11 pairs of pants
• 2 pairs of shorts
• 4 pairs of underwear
• 6 pairs of socks (+9 orphans)

I still have that total volume of clothing that I am keeping. Although, by "volume" I mean "actual physical volume", as the distributions are skewed away from pants toward socks and underwear; shirts is probably about the same. Of course, I still have to actually discard the clothing. That is the final committing step.

We then went to Chinatown to do some grocery shopping. We picked up some crazy giant Chinese grapefruit-like thing (I only know the name in Mandarin Chinese, and don't even know how to transliterate it, so I won't), a persimmon, a Chinese pear, Meat, and all sorts of other goodies.

Grocery shopping in Chinatown is a lot of fun. You really never know what sort of incredible "food" you are going to see. Upon seeing something I never even knew existed I immediately ask Yilin, "Have you had this and is it any good?"

We then went to dinner at Sweet-n-Tart, a place that is labelled as 'Dim Sum' by CitySearch, but is not actually that type of restaurant. You can read my review here.

We then went back to Yilin's place. We ate this giant grapefruit. Yilin told me, as she was cutting the peel off in a specific manner,

"You know, every kid in Taiwan likes to wear the peel of this fruit on their head. They all do. And now you have to."

With that, she placed this fruity helmet upon my head. I am not sure if she was telling me the truth, or just wanted me to post a photo of this on my blog. You decide.

We then prepared food for a Thanksgiving Feast we were attending Sunday at Angela Christiano's house. Angela is Hyunmi and Katie's academic advisor. She always invites me to their lab Happy Hour and any lab events. Who am I to turn down free food and beer?

The stipulation of attending Angela's Thanksgiving feast is that you must bring a dish from "your country of origin". Being the European mutt that I am, and as American as one could get, in a sense, I brought homemade chocolate chip cookies. Nestle Tollhouse for the win!

Yilin made a Chinese dish that is like a cold cut. It's a specific cut of beef marinated/simmered for an hour in a wine/anise sauce and then marinated/cooled overnight in the fridge. In the morning it is cut into thin slices and covered with a bit of the sauce and allowed to warm to room temperature. Yes, it is darn tasty.

Sunday morning we went to breakfast at Claude's. I suppose I could link my earlier review here, but it's moot: Claude still rules the world of French pastry with an iron fist.

In the afternoon we met up with a slew of people attending Angela's party and rode in the van to Upper Saddle River, New Jersey, where her new house resides. Concerning the house, all I will say is that the master bathroom is nearly half the size of my apartment. Honestly. (Her new house is amazing.)

The party was a lot of fun, and as per The Official Rules of Thanksgiving, I stuffed myself stupid. Oh, glorious day of thanks! Yilin's dish went over really well; it was one of the few that was totally finished. (There are so many dishes that not all of them can possibly get eaten.)

We got back to Manhattan early enough to vegetate for a while, digesting the day's intake of food, alcohol, and sugar. You can view a photo slideshow here.

The Great American Novel

About one year ago (give or take), I began writing a book. A fictional book about stuff that isn't real. Stuff that doesn't always happen. An everchanging book with a new plot every time you read it. No, I wasn't struggling with the story and continuously scrapping ideas. I was writing a piece of nonlinear fiction, aka "Choose Your Own Adventure"-type story. And a darn funny one at that, in my opinion.

My brother wrote me a simple program to help organize my story. However, my needs eventually outgrew the program: the large file size took a long time to load, different choices were supposed to lead to the same page but couldn't, and no real way to export the book (yet). He has been quite busy with his graduate school education, so I didn't bother and harass him to beef up the program from its beta version (or perhaps alpha; I don't recall if there is a version number). Ergo, I let the story sit aside.

Recently, I have been re-inspired to finish this miasma of tangled prose. How so? My buddy Dan is writing a novel. That fact alone made me want to breathe life into this project once more. Where to begin?

Well, my dad forwarded a link to my brother and myself, which points to Freemind, an open source mind-mapping software program. I have heard of similar programs before, and looked at a few, but never tried one. Thus far, Freemind has helped me organize my thoughts (I had an 8.5x11" piece of paper with about 100 text-containing bubbles and arrows everywhere) and take notes on what is written and what isn't. However, it is not suited to inserting the actual text of the story within the flow chart-like map.

So I printed out a hardcopy of what I had, grabbed a bunch of blank sheets, and in conjunction with Freemind I will be writing this story by hand. Good ole pencil 'n paper. In my few spare moments here and there (on the subway, waiting for an incubation in lab, etc), the story will be completed. I only need to write a few paragraphs at a time, because that is all the text necessary before the reader must make the decision.

What can I tell you thus far? Well, here is My Book FAQ:

Q: What is it about?
A: The story begins in early 19th Century France, where you, the main character lives lavishly.

Q: Is writing a piece of nonlinear fiction difficult?
A: Yes and No. It's tough, but you only need to write a few paragraphs at a time. Also, finding ways to end the story or tie in possible plot lines is difficult. Thus far I have about 20 ways for the main character (that's you) to die, and I have written about 20% of the book. It can't be written in a formulaic manner; rather, one should embrace the chaos.

Q: When will I be able to read it?
A: It's not like I can post chapters, so you will just have to wait. Also, whilst penning this parody I have already violated several copyrights by referencing fictional characters not of my devise, so don't expect it to go anywhere 'real'. Just wait until the release (and nag me to get it 'released').

Q: Is it really funny?
A: Hilarious. Of course, I think I am funny, so take my opinion with a grain of salt.

Q: Why are you blogging this?
A: Because, just like my second post in this blog, if I don't tell anyone, I won't feel obligated to go through with it.

Let the question and answer sessions continue...

Where do I begin?

This weekend was rather eventful. Saturday, Yilin and I went climbing in the 'Gunks. We climbed for a little bit, and then went on an easy hike. The weather was fantastic and the foliage was just after the peak, but still very nice. I was very glad to get out of NYC, and I believe that Yilin was as well.


You can read about our adventure here, and view a photo slide show here.

Sunday we met up in the afternoon at my place (I had some lab work to do) and she began to utilize one of her Christmas presents. I have given Yilin something that I have never given any woman: I am allowing her to go through my wardrobe and remove anything that she doesn't think I should wear. I figure she has been buying me clothes anyway, trying to effectively get me to self-regulate my wardrobe. But she didn't realize that I don't throw clothes out. Not even if they are full of holes. My family can attest to this.

So, while she has virtually unfettered power, I set a few rules:

1. She must leave me with enough clothing so that I do not have to go shopping for more right away.
2. She is not allowed to get rid of any climbing/hiking/camping clothing.
3. Clothes to be thrown out can become workout clothes, but I still need enough clothing to exercise at least 1x/day for a week.
4. I choose what happens to removed items (donate, trash, Dad or Jay).
   
5. I am allowed on 3 occasions to veto the removal of an item.

I realize that Rule #1 is subjective, but I told her that we will negotiate what is "enough clothing." She had no intention of violating rule #2 when I told it to her, which earned her bonus points.

So far, she has gone through about 1/3 of my clothing (while I was shaving and in the shower). She laughed and told me that I am going to hate her. Well, I don't, but not surprisingly a lot of my wardrobe will no longer exist. Anyone want a Hawaiian shirt? However, I found a way to keep 2 of them without using my powers of veto: I will use them exclusively as climbing shirts, and only when she is not around. They are made of polyester, and as synthetics should function well as climbing shirts, which I don't have (I usually use cotton t-shirts, which are not ideal). A large number of items will be given to my father or brother (if they want them), while some will be donated. I now have a lot of workout t-shirts, and most of my existing workout t-shirts are going to New Jersey landfills.

I am surprisingly OK with this. I knew it had to be done sooner or later, but I've always had trouble throwing out what I consider to be a perfectly functional piece of clothing (i.e., it covers my chest/abdomen/crotch/butt >75%). I am sure that my mom will be happy.

Some items she wants me to try on to see how they fit me before deciding if they should go. There is also a mountain of dirty clothing that will have to be sorted. (I am hoping to get her to go through it before I wash it. That way, I save time and quarters.)

After the closet cleansing, we went to Radio City Music Hall to see The Radio City Christmas Spectacular. While not entirely spectacular, it was entertaining. The most impressive parts were those in performed by The Rockettes themselves. The other dancers/performers were pretty good, but not as good as those long-legged ladies.

Yilin and I were a bit surprised at how kid-oriented the show was, but we were entertained nonetheless. As it was only one and a half hours long (it started at 7pm and we were out by 8:30), we didn't know what to do since we had gotten used to 4 hour operas. So we took our time and walked up to Columbus Circle, talking all the while.

Now it's back to the regular work week!

Are you an Idiot?

Yes, the question that men have queried for centuries: Are you, in fact, an Idiot?

To get at the answer we must be able to define an 'Idiot' or 'the state of Idiocy' (political jokes aside). I have chosen to capitalize the word 'Idiot' because it has become so commonplace that its weight has been lost. From Answers.com:

The introduction of the IQ test was followed by a classification system that used such terms as moron (IQ of 51-70), imbecile (26-50), and idiot (0-25);

Think about that. If, by definition, the 'average' IQ is 100, an Idiot is at least 4x less capable than the average person, and 3x less capable than someone who falls just within the category of 'developmentally disabled' (aka 'mentally retarded'). Remember that kid in your third grade class who had a to wear a helmet and ate dirt all the time? Yeah, he is 3x smarter than an Idiot.

Which leads me to why I am posting this. I answered the phone at lab this morning, and on the other end was a women who asked, "Is this Columbia University?" Well, it is, so I replied, "Yes." She then uttered this gem, "I am from ------ (company). Could you please transfer me to Accounts Payable?"

What? First of all, I don't even know if Columbia University has a centralized Accounts Payable office. As far as I know, all of the individual departments pay their own accounts. This isn't a corporation (although sometimes I wonder). Second, I don't think our phones allow us to transfer calls, if I even knew what number to transfer her to.

I explained to her that she had called a research laboratory, one of hundreds at Columbia. She didn't get it. "This is Columbia University, right? Can you just transfer me?" I tell her straight up, "I don't even know what that number might be." She then asks if anyone else at this number can help her. I explain that Columbia has thousands of phone numbers, and randomly drawing one out of a hat will not get you to where you want to go. It's like walking up to the counter at an airport and buying a ticket for the next flight out of there, hoping that it takes you to Hawaii. Still, the concept that she effectively called the state of Montana and asked to be transferred to the Governor eluded her.

I tried explaining to her that I am a graduate student, I have no idea if Columbia even has an Accounts Payable, and she is better off using a web browser to look on Columbia's web site for any administrative number, rather than call me. I should've given her the Dean's number. Instead, I said, "Goodbye." Click.

Sadly, this is not the first time this has happened. A few months ago a similar scenario occurred. Perhaps you think I am being a little harsh. Well, if as many as 3 in 100 people are mentally retarded, then I probably correctly diagnosed her condition. Josh off.

Birthday Week Aftershock

Last night my dear friend Katie took my to dinner and a movie as a Birthday present, as she was unable to go to Peter Luger Steakhouse with us. Yilin joined us for dinner at MaryAnn's, a TexMex restaurant that always hits the spot. Yilin then went home and Katie and I went to see a scary movie...

We saw "Three... Extremes", an independent movie comprised of 3 short films by some leading Asian directors (Fruit Chan, who I am unfamiliar with but is the driving force behind this film; Park Chanwook who directed the kickass "Old Boy", and Takashi Miike, who has directed the unnerving "Audition" and surreal "Ichi the Killer").

It was good. If you think you are going to a horror movie, you are wrong. Instead of being scared, it leaves you feeling freaked out or disturbed. The three short films are titled "Dumplings", "Cut", and "Box", and are directed by those above, in that order. Katie and I both felt that "Dumplings" was the best of the three, with "Box" being second and "Cut" third. I was so impressed by Fruit Chan's short film, that I will be intentionally watching films of his in the near future. It was very well done.

That is all I will tell you, in the event that you are interested in seeing "Three... Extremes". However, since the large majority of my readers do not live in one of the six cities in this country where it is showing, you will have to wait until a region 1 DVD is released (which will probably be never).

I had a great time with Katie, as always, and look forward to the next time we will hang out.

Opera Redux

Last night Yilin and I saw Mozart's 'Le Nozze di Figaro' ('The Marriage of Figaro') at the Metropolitan Opera House. It was great. Of course, it was a really late night, even considering the fact that Acts III and IV did not have an intermission. I got back to my apartment at 12:40am.

I enjoyed 'Cosi fan Tutte' more, for a few reasons: Some of the parts in Figaro were sung in a manner that made them sound spoken in an operatic voice, if that makes sense. These parts were more like dialogue than songs. Which is fine, but after witnessing how complex a plot could be advanced through song alone in 'Cosi', I was left feeling a little cheated. "Cosi fan tutte' was also a lot funnier. Not that opera needs to be funny, but both are comedies (as far as I know), and therefore the degree of 'funniness' matters.

I came to realize that I find the voices of the women much more impressive and amazing than those of the men. Sure, the men sound great, but the women sound divine. I wonder if I am biased because I like women... Who knows.

Afterward, Yilin mentioned something that I was wondering as well: Mozart apparently didn't trust women. Of course, none of his female lead characters was anything other than honorable in love, but the male characters always doubted and were jealous. In fact, most of the characters have doubts and jealousies in their minds. Interesting.

What a Weekend

Wow. So much happened this weekend that I feel I won't be able to adequately discuss any particular event. I almost feel guilt for not working at all this weekend. Almost. :)

Friday night Yilin and I went to the Metropolitan Opera to see Mozart's 'Cosi Fan Tutte' ("Women are like that"). It is a quite humorous story about two brothers who are convinced that their fiancees could never love anyone else, and their friend who teaches them that women are only human. The production was incredible: the sets were amazing, the lighting fantastic, the symphony outstanding and the voice talent extremely impressive. But then again, this is one of the greatest opera houses in the world, so should I really be surprised?

What made this opera especially enjoyable to me was that the performers incorporated a lot of physical comedy into the story. Sure, some of the lines delivered were humorous on their own, but it was how other lines were delivered, the expressions or gestures or downright brazen body language of some of the characters, which made this story live up to its potential as a comedy.

Unfortunately for you, this opera is no longer showing at the Met this season.

Saturday was a rugby day. We had our annual Fall tournament in honor of a former P&S rugger who was murdered in a mugging about 23 years ago. Naturally, winning this tournament is very important to us. At the end of the day, we were victorious. We ended up winning the tournament by soundly drubbing the one team that had beaten us earlier in the day. It was sweet. So we began drinking beer.

Sunday I woke up and felt broken. I was sore from head to toe and covered with bruises. I drank as much water as I could and made myself move around to flush out the lactic acid in my system. I began to feel somewhat normal after an hour of this. Continual slamming of your body into opponents, teammates, and the ground results in tenderized meat. Add dehydration and a few beers to the mix and you get quite the marinade, if you know what I mean.

I met up with Yilin for breakfast at Patisserie Claude. We then went up to Midtown so she could attend church and I 'roam about'. I had secret plans, however, and went to Fauchon. I met her outside of her church at 12:30pm and gave her a present: some marron glace (candied chestnuts) and a chocolate bar. Needless to say I was her favorite person for at least an hour or two.

We eventually made it to Brooklyn and had lunch at Grimaldi's. In the event that you don't read my review, then read this: go there. That's all there is to it. After an excellent lunch, we walked back to Manhattan across the Brooklyn Bridge. Apparently Yilin is scared of something to do with walking across bridges. I think it has to do with heights. Wait 'til I take her climbing. ;)

We made our way back to her apartment where I took a nap to aid in my recovery from rugby. She was cooking and paying bills I think. I don't really know since I was sleeping. I got up and we went to Elephant and Castle for dinner. Stay away. My review tells all. I walked her back to her apartment and we chatted, thankfully forgetting dinner. (It wasn't all bad, but... well, just read my review.) I got to bed rather early and slept like a petrified log.

It was a good weekend. (Photo slideshow visible here.)

Another truism from the Simpsons

The Simpsons has been, and will always be one of my favorite TV shows. To be honest, I stopped watching around the time I moved to NYC to begin grad school (August 15th 1999). I didn't have a TV, and once I got one, without cable or an antenna I got zero reception. OK, so I half got Telemundo. However, since I don't speak Spanish other than "pollo", "gato", and "arroz", Telemundo did me no good.

So it is without a doubt that I laughed and cried when I saw this clip purely because it is true. OK, not really true, but still funny. (I believe the clip requires RealPlayer, but I am not sure.) Aaah, those wacky Simpsons...

(Thanks to my good pal Katie for sending me the link.)

Finger Hypertrophy

I think my fingers are getting larger. By 'larger' I don't mean 'longer', but just 'thicker'. While my mom was visiting I was twice thwarted in holding a tea cup by putting the tip of my index finger into the handle. Two different tea cups at two different restaurants would not allow the last phalange to grip the handle from the inside. I had to hold them like Japanese tea cups.

I know it sounds ridiculous, but my mom and Yilin both witnessed it, and both were stupefied by the situation. Granted, I would say that the handles were on the small side, but they were ordinary tea cups. I know that fingers can continue to grow thicker, particularly when subjected to frequent repetitive labor, like fixing motorcycle engines or even rock climbing. But I haven't been doing much of either recently. I guess I am just getting older. Or delusional. You decide.

Student Discounts and Broccoflower

Student discounts are a great thing. I take advantage of them occasionally, but not that often. Yilin wants to see a few operas that are playing this season at the Metropolitan Opera. She suggested that I try to buy tickets using my student ID, as it will be much cheaper. She had done so in the past and was pleased with it.

So last night we went down to the Met and got in line to buy tickets. Student tickets are only available 2 weeks prior to a performance, cost a mere $25 for weeknight performances and $35 for weekend performances, and you don't choose your seating area; they choose for you. That last detail is key.

We bought tickets for Cosi fan tutte this Friday night and Le Nozze Di Figaro on the 8th. Total cost: $120. Our 'student' seats: Orchestra seating, quite far upfront and slightly offcenter. Total savings: $640. Amazing.

Possibly even more amazing is the fact that student tickets to the New York Philharmonic Orchestra run at $10 each. You can only get them about 3 days in advance of a performance, and I don't know if the seats are as good, but it is still dirt cheap.

After we bought the tickets, we went grocery shopping at Whole Foods and saw some crazy fruits and vegetables. We decided that every time we go there we will get something new. Last night we bought broccoflower. I have never seen anything so crazy. I can't wait to photograph it! (Pictures will accompany this post soon.)