Crybaby

I still tear up when I think about how my mom missed my wedding, and how much she was really looking forward to it before her life ended abruptly.

In the middle of watching The Mummy 3, there was a medium-sappy moment between Brendan Fraser's character and his son. I thought about my mom, my dad, and how much I miss them (in different ways). And I lost it: I started crying quietly to myself in the middle of the theatre.

I find that my emotions are bubbling just beneath my surface, waiting to fill my eyes with more tears. There's still a lot of hurt inside me that needs to be released. I just hope the trigger isn't at an inopportune time.

Especially When They're Green

I have a question for you to pick your brain on:

What is the main goal for traffic lights?

Sounds like a stupid question, right? But as this random pondering fluttered across my idle brain this morning -- while I was waiting at a red light, no less -- I started to realize the possible breadth of answers.

Are traffic lights for ...
- actually controlling traffic (go/stop)?
- providing order to traffic?
- getting commuters to their destinations most efficiently?
- giving pedestrians a chance to cross?
- providing an emergency override avenue?

The main gist is, what is the primary goal that traffic lights strive for? For instance, if we didn't have the stoplights, we'd still have rules (and possibly adjusted rules) to compensate for the kind of chaos one gets when a traffic light suddenly stops working -- that's not the scenario I mean.

Rather, what if traffic lights didn't exist at all, and traffic bylaws accommodated for that lacking instead? Are there any goals/functions of the traffic lights that wouldn't be made up for? Is there something particularly special about traffic lights that can't be replaced?

Cleaning Up

When do you start cleaning up someone's stuff after they've passed on?
Logically, that stuff isn't needed anymore. It's just taking up space.

Some of it's very sentimental, of course, and you should never get rid of it.
Some of it's stuff that really isn't, and eventually, you'll throw it out, but when is the right time to handle that?
Is doing it too soon just considered cold?
Is doing it too late just considered lamenting in the sorrow, and not giving yourself closure?

After the Service

Nah, not crying a lot anymore, but it always feels like it's right under the surface and ready to burst out at any time.

Unfortunate News about March 19, 2008

A lot of you have probably heard this (or figured it out) already, but I have some rather sad news to bear.

With extremely deep regret, I'm very sorry to announce that my mom passed away very suddenly on Wednesday night (March 19, 2008, Pacific time) of a brain aneurism. She was in her peak health: medical and blood tests from a few days prior came back showing near-optimum levels for everything from cholesterol to blood pressure to body alkalinity to everything. But even so, from the first signs of a headache to irreversible brain damage, it was only 30 or 45 minutes. She spent her last moments at home and at Vancouver General Hospital, with my father always by her side, but likely unaware of anything happening around her. It was four hours later when the decision was made to pull the lung support machine, after which it was clear her body was only a body: the spirit had long left on its own.

Thank you all graciously for your support in this emotional time. I can really only muster up two words: too early. The family is obviously very shocked at what's happened -- I was actually at another funeral service in Taiwan when I received the call.

I hope that those of you who have met her and gotten to know her will remember her as the happy, active, loving, and playful person she was. She's a wonderful mother, a loving wife, and a caring friend, a warm person all around who shone positivity wherever she went. At 57, she still had so much love to give, and so much to look forward to with us. It's really just too early. She was very much looking forward to our upcoming events and occasions, and we hope to make her proud by continuing in the spirit of her wishes. (It's strange to refer to her in past tense.)

I didn't really have much to say for days after it happened. All her children returned to Vancouver in early April and will stay through late May, after which further plans will become more definite. There was a service in Vancouver on April 12, and over 300 people came to pay their respects -- we filled up the 220-seat chapel and people had to stand outside to peer in through the open windows.

While still in the shock of this news, I implore you to cherish the relationships with your loved ones. Our time here is short, sometimes much too short. Here's wishing you love and good health.

Who are Which

Some people are really good at comforting and consoling you.
Some people feel for you and want to, but don't know how to.
Some people are not compassionate and don't think much of it.

In times like this, you start to learn which of those the people around you really are.
Sometimes you're pleasantly surprised, and sometimes you're sorely disappointed.

Constant Thoughts

It's been like this since Thursday.

When I wake in the morning, it's her. The last thoughts before I sleep are about her. I just can't stop thinking about her.

I have a pounding headache that just won't away. We all do. It's starting to create a permanent furrowed brow on my face.

I walk around with a dark cloud hanging over me. Even when I'm smiling, there's a somber tone to it. I'm almost sure people can see it pretty obviously, but in certain ways, I don't give a sh!t.

I'm more inclined to pick fights and feel justified for it, as if I will be able to redeem everything by making sure someone else suffers too.

And yet, this all pales in comparison when I think about how he must be doing with all of this going on.

Personal Computer

Many days, I spend all day at work on the computer, and then I go home and spend all night on the computer. And I do it day after day, week after week. Heck, it's been years now that I've done this.

And only a little while ago, I stepped back and wondered why this was.

What do you need a personal computer for?

That is, what is it that you do on your computer at home that you couldn't really do with any other method: phone, fax, work computer, actual face-to-face?

Phone Home

In her rush to get to work one morning, M accidentally left her mobile phone at home. This got me to thinking, what is a mobile phone? As in, what does the mobile phone really mean to us these days?

Let's say you accidentally forgot to bring your mobile phone with you one particular workday. And let's say you don't really have any solid plans after work -- like, you want to hit the gym as part of your routine, but it's not like you had a client dinner meeting that you could never ever miss.

What impact would this have on this particular day in your life? What would you (have to) do about it?

For me, it used to be that it just meant I didn't have my phone with me. No biggie. And in the very beginning, I had everyone's phone number memorized anyhow; I was faster punching the number in than finding it in the StarTAC's phone memory.

Then in SF, my routine was solid enough that I would still go through with it as usual: work, gym, dinner, home. All the people I needed to talk to at work were accessible in the office. All the people I needed to talk to socially were online on MSN, YIM, or email, so that wasn't really an issue either. Sure, I loved my Nokia 8260, but I could still get through the day without much trouble -- I even memorized a few of my most frequently-used phone numbers.

But all that changed.

After moving to Taipei, I stopped memorizing phone numbers (mostly). I started to put more calendar information into W800i. I still didn't have a landline, so that didn't change, and I could still reach everyone by email/IM. Except, I spent a lot more time away from home (which was somewhat out of the way) meaning I had to do without my phone for a longer period of time without contact. [shrug] I guess that was alright, except that my mobile phone was a major communication device at my previous work: clients and partners would call me and expect me to be instantly reachable. (Yeah, that part sucked.)

Then the iPhone came.

And now that I'm all iPhoned up, this little beast carries all my contact information (even from past companies, whom I would never call on even a rare basis), my calendar schedule, my music (for listening to while at work), and a movie or so (in case I have a long waiting period to endure). It's definitely the digital counterpart to my life: there's a lot more going on now. And I have basically forgotten all mobile phone numbers except my own and a handful of others.

But even today, if I left it at home by accident, I wouldn't make a special trip home just to fetch it again unless it was on the way. With my trial .Mac account, all my basic contacts and calendar info is synced online, so I can still contact people as long as I'm at a computer with a net connection. I just can't be reached by anyone (except again by email or Gchat).

Maybe one day, I'll try leaving the house without my mobile phone. And see how naked I feel, or whether I'll actually enjoy the burdenless feeling of being tech-naked and frolicking in the sun.

That would truly be wireless freedom.

33 is a Prime Number

I used to be gym regular back in college, but I hadn't yet learned how to work out properly, so there was a lot of wasted effort. It wasn't until about 2002 or 2003 that I started really doing it right, eating properly, beefing up a bit, all that crap. Man, I can't believe how far (backwards) I've come since those lofty fitness goals!

But now that I'm in Taiwan, and all that has gone out the window! If it's not one thing, it's another: it's frustrating that I can't get to the gym nowadays. That, plus all the cold weather fueling my craving for carbs and sweets and those hot, stick-to-your-ribs foods. That's bad news.

That said, this is a good age to be.
This is the primetime, baby!

I think men in their 30's start to have a clue of what's what. Before that, in their early- to mid-20's, they're still young, full of energy, but without the necessary guidance or direction. And almost definitely without really knowing what they want. (I'd argue that although being firmly planted in my thirties, I still don't truly know what I want, but I'm getting closer to having all the pieces of that puzzle.)

So really, I don't actually miss being younger.

What I miss about being younger is the carefree days of not giving a sh!t about anything with boundless energy! That, and being able to go clubbing all night without feeling bedridden the whole next day.

Snowy City Zen

Vancouver seems to have gotten its fair share of snowfall this winter, and it's a pity I missed out on it.

It used to be, all the snow meant hours shoveling the driveway, dangerous driving conditions, miserable cold, all that stuff. I remember when my dad would see the snowfall forecast and immediately start preparing for it with the salts, the shovel, just to make sure we could get to work/school the next morning.

I called him about a month ago, and I brought up all the snow and how much of a hassle it must be.

Only, he didn't agree with me. He told me that he likes the snow and how nice it is. He likes how much snow there is, blanketing the city. And it really is pretty, Vancouver in white.

My dad is becoming more zen. Good for him.

Rain Filter

I'm riding to work today, and it's pissing rain, but I live up the visor on my helmet anyhow ... and I take a big whiff. It's about the freshest air I've smelled recently (except for a quick weekend trip to Hualien/花蓮).

The rain here acts as a filter for the air, extracting dust and dirt particles (and whatever impurities and terrible free radicals that provoke women to buy those expensive skin care products) out of the air as they fall. It's kind of like the water in a bong, really, which filters out the harsh heat and smoke so it doesn't get to you.

The problem lies in that what you're left with after the high of having fresh air is ... well, the bong water. And in the case of Taipei rain, it's a whole city's worth of city-bong water flowing through the sewers in addition to all the warm garbage smells that waft through the sewer grates.

Fresh air today, horrified nostrils tomorrow.

We've Got You Surrounded

Our TV at home is stuck on CSI: CSI (the original set in Las Vegas), CSI Miami, CSI New York.

In these shows (and other cops 'n' robbers movies), they hone in on the criminal (or suspect), and cops come in mass numbers, driving up with their sirens. Let's say that the bad guy is holed up in a motel room, and the cop cars pull up around that motel room door. Usually, they're parked radially, all facing the door like rays from a sun.

Here's the thing: is there some kind of parking formation that real cops are supposed to follow? Like, a parking arrangement which allows them to get in hot pursuit quickly, in case the guy gives chase?

You know what I mean?

Because I can imagine that some methods of parking would cause them to be blocking each other when they all try to leave at the same time. Just wonderin'.

Sniffing Out the Problem

Remember how I had that nose issue about half a year ago? Well, very mysteriously, it just went away by itself. Maybe it knew I was posting for advice about it, got freaked, and left.

And then decided to move back in again.
I smelled it again just two days ago.
Yesterday, it seemed to fade a bit.
But it smells like it's back again today.

I have a feeling that it's related to my diet, or is a cryptic symptom of my health in some way. My current hypotheses on this are:

1. Sauce.

Three days ago, I had potstickers from a popular joint just around the corner from my work. I have these pretty often, but this time I had it with chili bean sauce (豆瓣醬) -- I used to have this a lot, but some months ago, traded it in for a garlic soy sauce and/or sweet vinegar instead. Lo and behold, the next day, I guess it worked into my system and the nose thing came back!

2. Health.

I've been sick for a while in November and December -- a really nasty virus has pretty much hit everyone I know in some time or another this winter season -- and even now, we're trying hard to shake that last 5% that just won't go away. I don't remember if I was sick back in July 2007, but maybe it's related to my health at the moment.

3. Diet.

A broader generalization, perhaps it's just my diet. Or, maybe the two are related: food and health. When I'm sick or getting sick, my body has cravings for different types of foods (mainly carb-heavy stuff). So perhaps my current diet has a surplus or a deficiency in something, and that's giving me this "reminder" in my olfactory senses?

I dunno. Any thoughts or hints?

Victor's Secret

So on the first day of the year, I bought 3 items from Private Structure (to provide a structure for holding my privates, naturally). I've now added them to my collection of new underwear from Zara, Calvin Klein, and the other ones I recently bought from Private Structure. (I've been on a shopping binge for undies and socks recently, dunno why. Maybe all mine have reached the end of their lifespans.)

Anyway, since I've always been partial to briefs and boxer briefs, the new ones are also the same. (I only wear loose boxers to bed, so that my boys can sleep comfortably too. In the daytime, I like to have my body parts ... kept in place. But that's neither here nor there.)

Now, these new ones are snug and form fitting. But they (from all the brands except CK) seem to have forgotten one vital feature for such an undergarment: a sufficiently-sized "pouch" to hold my goodies.

No, I'm not bragging or anything.
They're somehow really damned tight!

WTF? I almost feel like when I put them on, my eyes will pop out. And no, I'm not wearing a size too small either. Given that they're different brands and of different design/styling -- European, American, and Asian -- they shouldn't all be like that, right?? Something's really wrong. Either that, or present-day men prefer to have their cashews treated like stress balls.

No, really, I'm not bragging.

What am I doing wrong? My undies didn't come with an instruction manual, but is there some technique to ... uh ... product placement when I put them on? Or is there something else I should be paying attention to??

Help!

On a side note, I appreciate Joe Boxers for keeping me warm on such cold days. Thank you, Joe, for cupping me so.

First

Here's the first post of the year, on the first day, of a year of many firsts for me. Big plans, baby, big plans. I'm not in the habit of making new year's resolutions -- because anything worth doing is worth doing without waiting for an arbitrary start date -- but here's to hoping 2008 holds lots of good stuff for all of us! I think I'll start it with a delicious meal somewhere. See ya!

Their Own Medicine

I've always wondered, do smokers (when they're not smoking) also not like the smokey smell? Like, does it bother them as much as it does non-smokers? Or does it trigger instead the thoughts of smoking?

The Power of Words

Two nights ago, I was re-organizing all my cards -- I have a ton of credit cards and membership cards to this and that in various countries -- when I came across some stuff in one of my old wallets.

There was a laminated photo of me and my family on vacation in Mexico during Christmas one year (this was many, many moons ago). I took it out to put in another card holder, and flipped it over as I did. On the other side, I had forgotten that my mom had put a photo studio portrait of herself.

Under the picture, she wrote (in Chinese):

"Ben, Mom will forever love you."

Even though it's something I've always known and I'll always know, it's amazing what the power of words can incite in your emotions, even years later. Tears welled up in my eyes as I sat there on the couch.

I'll always love you too, Mom.

Freaking Birthday

I'll tell you something: at my age, it's easy to forget your age. On the day of this past birthday of mine, M told me I was turning a year older than I was actually turning.

And I freaked.
A little bit.

Just a little bit, but I still freaked, and it counts. But after that initial shock, my healthy skepticism kicked in, and I gave her a slanty look while I tried to do the age-math in my head.

Let's see, I was born in that year, and now it's this year, subtract one from the other, and ... holy crap. I really was that old!

I freaked again.

Just a little bit, but more than the first time. And then she gave in and told me she was kidding. But wait! I just did the math in my head, and I got that number! How the hell ...??

Well, turns out I'd been doing some planning for next year, and used 2008 as "this year", so I had also mistakenly advanced my age by a year.

So ... let me tell you two things:
(1) At my age, it's easy to forget your age.
(2) At my age, your math skills are pretty easy to forget too.

The Air Out There

It's pleasantly sunny today, which is a fantastic change from the weather of late. Is it just me, or does the air smell different on a sunny day than it does on a cloudy day? And if it does to you too, why?