Nobody's Perfect

So many songs and stories are composed this way, so many movies and TV shows, and so many glowing couples around us think this way.  We expect our romantic partner to be our soulmate and companion, "our all", "our everything"- the one person who understands us know us is there for us.

But, lately I've been thinking, is that a reasonable expectation?  What is a reasonable expectation of a partner? (Darn, I'm starting to sound like SJP from Sex and the City...)

Now I am probably the least qualified person in the world to go on a rant about this, since I've only ever had 1.5 long distance relationships, so in fact I really don't know how bad it can be or good if the person is or is not your soulmate.  But I recently read this very convincing book about "singlism" as a form of discrimination, how we automatically assume things about people who are single, how laws and workplaces favor those who are coupled.   She pointed out that due to our unreasonable expectation of the function of a spouse, as both best friend and lover, we overburden romantic relationships, and also neglect all other meaningful relationships.

And I know this all too well- many of my friends have little time for me when they are in a relationship (hanging out a few times a week becomes let's have dinner once every month or two months), when I invite somebody non-single to something, the reply is often, "well, i have to see about XXX (husband, boyfriend, girlfriend, wife)'s schedule."

But I am guilty too.  In dating, in finding someone to date, I am often "picky".   Not picky in the usual terms of appearance or job or age, but picky in terms of "what do you think about this random topic" "do you have a temper" "can you understand me" "are you a good listener" "can you make me laugh"... And usually I want all those things, and so logically of course there is no one that fits the bill, or the probability of meeting such a person is of course very low.  And then when I think I have met such a person, usually through the course of getting to know them some other issue crops up (such as "you don't really have the right sense of humor to understand my jokes"),  and of course then this person "is not meant for me".

And I realize I am setting the bar extremely high.  But my friends tell me I should, books and movies and self-help websites also say I should.   Every single glowing wedding invitation or declaration of love  seems to imply I should.  The only person who ever says I should settle for "good enough" or "a decent guy" is my mother.

After some deliberation, I think the resolution to this issue is not where one sets the bar.  But to really have reasonable expectations- and also find fulfillment and support in your friends and family.  Surround yourself with people who enrich your life and love you, regardless of whether or not you're single.  I don't know if this is the answer- I'm still working on it.  But feel free to share- what do you think?    


p.s. This post is dedicated to the friend I called today for the first time in 8-9 months.  I miss you!  We need to talk more!

Wired and Disconnected

For lack of better mother-daughter entertainment in Ithaca in the evenings, I got a dvd movie to watch for one of the evenings my mother was in town.  She therefore got the novel experience of watching me use a redbox kiosk.  "No wonder people are out of jobs."  She marveled after we had read through a few synopses on the touchscreen, picked a movie, swiped my credit card, and out popped a movie

Thinking back to my childhood neighborhood movie rental shop in Taipei, I am not sure if the loss of movie rental personnel as an occupation has contributed significantly to unemployment.  The small shop overflowing with VHS cassettes was run by a couple who usually took turns looking after operations, and the odd part-time (always young probably a student) employee or two would sometimes be there to relieve them.  What was distinct about those days was that renting a movie required human interaction.  The wife, much more sullen, rarely said anything.  However, the husband was a friendly guy, and whether with my dad or by myself we would exchange small talk.  Unlike netflix, he did not automatically make recommendations based on what we usually rented.  But more useful than netflix, you could go up to him and say, we want to see that new movie with Harrison Ford in it, the one where he's like a spy or something, but we forget what it was called.  And he would know what it was called, and go dig it out for us.  Or we would notice the movie playing on the television behind the counter, which was perpetually playing something, and we could ask him what it was, and whether it was worth watching.  Or we could ask him for the non-automatic recommendations in the form of "we want to watch something funny.  do you have any funny?"

I've been thinking about the value of such interactions lately.  Algorithms can't do such things yet, but I'm sure that maybe pretty soon they'll have most of the above transactions covered.  Computer scientists are improving on algorithms that can recognise your tone of voice or emotion, and then respond appropriately.  Machines may be able to do things better, faster and cheaper, but what is that sense of loss that keeps nagging me?

It irks me when I see a couple out for dinner or the movies, and they sit silently while one of the partners plays with their smartphone.  Conversation.  You could be having conversation I want to go remind them.  I am also bothered by the prevalence of texting or e-mailing as a the main vehicle of communication.  Don't get me wrong, I think these are wonderful inventions, smartphones and e-mail and texting and online chat.  I love that my computer is as fast as the supercomputers were when I was 5 years old.  It makes many things easier.  But when my roommates send me an e-mail when we are both at home, I wonder, is it so terrible to talk to each other?  I am also flabbergasted when people send me e-mails or texts a few hours before something important is happening, and expect me to respond or even see such things.  I remember when I was little my sister and I would try to avoid answering the phone, and let the answering machine do the job, lest we have to speak awkwardly with one of our parents' friends.  Nowadays, I am delighted when somebody calls me.  I even relish calling costumer service, it's so much nicer talking to a person than clicking through online links listed in not so informative search results.

How do I quantify this "niceness" of human interactions?  No it is probably not measurable in terms of monetary value, or immediate gain in profit margin.  But I am convinced there is value in talking to another person, face to face, reading their emotions, navigating responses, feeling charmed or pleased or angry or frustrated.  And I think it is worth the little inconvenience to perhaps preserve a bit of the human touch and stay somewhat connected, even for things we can automate.      

All Those Bandhas and One Goodbye

Actually there are three(?) bandhas- I always hear them mentioned in class or in some video or the other, but it's still quite mysterious which muscles I am supposed to be using.  (By the way it sounds like it's spelled "bunda" to me  when it's spoken, which apparently means something else in various languages.  "Buttocks" in portuguese, I think it is also Turkish for something...)

But there are many things I have yet to learn and experience in yoga, but I'm not in any particular hurry, because as David Swenson would say "Remember you have your whole life to work on your practice.  It will come in time.*".  And also because it has been only nearly a year since I've started yoga.

*Note:  I am not sure if that is the exact quote.  And also I use this excuse to not try headstand or any inversion or pose I deem scary.  It will come in time.

Late last August or early September, since I was bored of running on ellipticals at the gym, I decided to try out yoga as a new means of exercise.  At the Cornell fitness center,  I took my very first yoga classes from Elaine and Zach.  I remember, that at first, Elaine taught me flexibility and Zach taught me strength.  After awhile, I decided Zach was my favorite yoga teacher at Cornell, just because he had this way of teaching that made one want to challenge their own limits.  When I first started Zach's classes,  after a few rounds of his lovely elbow to knee abs, the next day I would feel my abs complaining, with every laugh they would say "this laugh is hard work".  But my abs grew to love elbow to knee.  I also  remember wanting to fall over and lie down midway through all of those standing poses he made us hold forever.  But now, probably due to this training, every time I practice Ashtanga, the part I love most are the standing postures.  And five breaths is not nearly long enough to enjoy the chair pose, seriously, we need to hold it longer.  And, ah, then there's dolphin.  I still hate that pose.

Anyways, I shouldn't be posting on my blog, because I should really be studying for my A-exam right now.  So I will get the point of this blog post.  Today was my last class with Zach.  I am a bit selfishly sad to see such a wonderful teacher leave Ithaca.  But goodbyes are a natural part of life, and so through this blog post, I say goodbye, a positive upbeat goodbye.  I'd like to thank Zach for being part of my introduction to yoga, and I'm sure that little bits of what I've learned from him will stay with me in some form for a very long time.   I wish him all the best for his new life in Houston.

This Ephemeral Life

"It might be a bit harsh to say this.  But you know, some relationships, once they are broken are irreparable.  Some people once they drift away it means they are gone."  My friend Tina told me on the phone.  "This is the sad fact of life.  Sometimes we need to acknowledge this and move on."

It was interesting that she was telling me this, because she is one of my oldest closest friends who is "still there".  We've known each other for 12 years now, and we talk on the phone or online every so often.  Sometimes every few months, sometimes every few weeks, sometimes a few times a week.  It doesn't really matter, there is no pressure to keep in touch, but there is motivation to do so whenever we are bored or randomly think of one another or have something profound to discuss.

Tina was telling me this because I was complaining to her how I miss those people who have drifted in and then out of my life, how I wish they would reply to my e-mails or call me or still care about me.

This is the way my young adulthood has been, a constant struggle of balance between holding on and letting go.  I know the ideal frame of mind I should go about dealing with these things, but knowing is different from doing.

Fundamentally nothing lasts.  Not even our visit to this life to this earth.  Yet knowing this, we go against the tide, we are constantly on the search for lifelong connections (many people search for this in the form of a lifelong romantic partner).

Sitting on the corner of Cayuga and Cascadilla downtown, Shayna and I discussed various connections.  Those hypothetical, those current, those past, and our tendency to want things to last forever or last a lifetime, and why we are so.  And I realized that two years ago I didn't know Shayna, but now she is a wonderful presence in my life.  And although I hope our friendship will last forever, I know it won't.  And I remember all the connections these few years that were built after connections destroyed or faded.  Is it that some relationships have to die for others to be born?

Sometimes I think it is the fear of having to face the reality of ourselves that drives us to seek something permanent.  As if we could conquer the short span of life with something that looks and feels like forever.  As if once there was someone out there who had known us for long enough and well enough it would resolve the question of knowing the ins and outs of ourselves.  As if we could avoid thinking about the meaning (of lack thereof?) of life, if we were in constant pursuit of lasting connections.  I hypothesize that if we were strong enough, it wouldn't matter how long each relationship lasted.  We would cherish each one for what it was throughout its duration, and end them with open hearts and minds.  But I am not strong enough, not yet, and so I still sit down and write that lengthy e-mail to that dear friend I miss but haven't heard from in 3 months, and hope for a response...

A Temporary Vegan

I've been eating vegan for 10 days now. 21 more days to go! It's more difficult than I thought: I find myself sick of soy products already. So I will need to find more bean and quinoa recipes in order to survive the next 20 days.

And I am making a vegan chocolate cake this weekend - recipe courtesy of the Moosewood website. I've had it at Moosewood restaurant, and it tasted non-vegan and wonderfully sinful. I just looked at the ingredient list and all of the ingredients look like what a normal cake would have just without the eggs or milk or butter. The one magic ingredient turns out to be vinegar! Can you imagine? I am totally psyched about this.

This diet is a result of too much meat and cheese in Europe (mostly too much cheese I think). So being vegan is mainly for detoxification. Also as a challenge to myself: I wanted to see if I could do it.

For the past few years I've wanted to be vegetarian for environmental and social justice reasons, but I suffer from the difficulty of liking meat. It tastes good. I love food. And many dishes are just not complete without the flavor of meat and fish. Writing that sentence was surprisingly painful- my favorite daydream activity is planning what to eat or cook for the next meal, and being vegan has made this activity more of a chore.

Nonetheless, being a temporary vegan has it's upsides: 1. It has made deciding what to order at restaurants super easy (there are usually only one or two things I can eat). 2. It's a wonderful excuse to explore the many bean and grain dishes I've been meaning to try cook. And that vegan chocolate cake! 3. I feel self-righteous when reading articles such as this one: http://www.time.com/time/magazine/article/0,9171,1879192,00.html

So we'll see how the rest of this month goes. It's tough, but it's giving my a whole new perspective and attitude towards foods. And, oh, did I mention that vegan chocolate cake?

Snowflakes

My roommate and I spent around an hour shoveling our driveway yesterday evening, only to discover our driveway covered in a foot and a half of snow again this morning... but we are lazy today, so we will resume shoveling tomorrow...

On a happy note, in my search for songs about snow this morning, I remembered the nutcracker and came across this video that made me smile. Hope it tickles you, too, whoever you are, reading my blog...

When life hands you lemons...

I know that sulking about it or getting mad or making delightful plans in my head on how to sabotage the new office space will not get me anywhere. That what I need to do right now is try to make the best out of whatever I'm getting... but somehow I can't win myself over with that argument.

One thing is that I've been making lemonade with my current office already. I don't like it. I'd mostly rather be at home or in a library somewhere. But I go anyways, I go because I like being around everybody else, I like being able to bug people when I have a question, I like being there so that my advisor can find me when he wants to, I like having conversations and being part of a community.

Maybe if I were a serious physicist I'd be thinking only about science and not ambience. It's true when I first started I was so excited about being able to do something, that I didn't mind going to Clark nights and weekends, and hardly noticed my surroundings. But nowadays if I am stuck or feeling down the office just pushes me further. It literally makes me cry sometimes.

So I decided to make lemonade. I decided that yes we can and should do something about it. Make our own place more cheerful. So I talked to Sumiran and Hitesh about it, and we started writing a petition. Even if nothing came out of it, I felt glad that at least we were trying to do something. I admire the fact that Kendra, Shankar, Jeehye and Katie bought plants for their office, and threw some of their clutter away. I was thinking about doing the same thing with my office, cleaning it, putting in some plants, putting up pretty posters... until I heard I had to move...

Now all of the sudden I'm informed I'm supposed to move to this gigantic cubicle with ugly carpet (and ugly dividers (but then how can dividers be pretty anyways)) and small desks and an insane amount of file cabinets, and poorly designed everything (except chairs). In a still windowless room, except now with 30 other people. And of course I'm upset. I'm upset because I know it is out of my control and I am in no position to request anything. I am upset because I know I'm supposed to just roll over and say okay fine let me think how to spruce this new crappy place up as opposed to my old crappy place. (And I never thought I'd prefer my old crappy place to any other, but I do.)

And then there's "the way things are" which means we will probably spend a lot of time asking for things, and then get none of them. Probably not blackboards. Probably not even moving the furniture around. Getting larger desks is obviously a pipe dream.

And so irrationally I've decided to sulk. I am officially sulking. I am not putting any effort into designing the stupid place. Do not come to try to persuade me with any lofty statements about rising above my own feelings or doing anything for the welfare of future grad students. I declare and defend my right to sulk.

Cause I don't see any sugar, so how can you expect me to make lemonade.

The Way the World Is

I've been reading a book called Cheap: The high cost of discount culture. The title can probably clue you in to what it is about. It's a history of how "cheap" came to be the driving force behind the retail sector and how it has affected manufacturing in all sectors.

I feel a familiar anger and frustration and helplessness and guilt whenever I read books like these.

It's not very well written to be honest- a bit too dry and the chapters do not seem to make the book a coherent whole and the editing is quite shameful- but the author summarizes many interesting facts and researches her subject thoroughly and avoids being emotional which is exactly what I am being reading this book.

Enough about writing quality, and back to my feelings:

Anger and frustration: Why is the world so messed up? Why do we have enough food for everyone on this planet, yet people still starve? Why do we turn a blind eye to all the environmental damage we are doing just so we can drink cheap milk and eat cheap shrimp?

Frustration and helplessness: I would be willing to double my grocery bill if it meant a few more percent of the world population could be lifted out of starvation. I would be willing to pay an extra 5% in taxes if it meant that the unemployed and poor could get more help, the infrastructure in the United States could be repaired, and children could get a better education (And I can't even vote in this country!). And I know many many people who feel the same way. Democracy does not work! The market economy does not work by itself! But then non of the other available options seem to work well either. Argh.

Guilt: Sometimes I'd like to help make the world better but don't know where to begin. And sometimes I know exactly what would be the right thing to do but fail.

I've returned my parking pass and am taking the bus (and biking once the weather is warmer) this year. But I know I will still drive around when parking is free and take long distance plane rides a few times. So I may think I'm reducing my carbon footprint, but probably not by a noticeable amount.

I've donated some money to charity last year, more than I have in the past, and plan to do the same this year. But I know I could put in more- I know I could choose not buy that eyeshadow or that new yoga mat and have an extra $50 to give...

Ever since being in Ithaca and under the influence of friends who are vegetarian and vegan, I've had less meat in my diet compared to when I was in Taiwan. Although I am a huge fan of tofu, and I am well aware of the evils of meat on the environment, I've tried being a part-time vegetarian and failed... because meat still does taste good to me... and I have these sudden cravings for beef noodle soup sometimes...

And so I feel guilty. A friend once told me "You do what you can." But I know in my heart I could do more, lots more.

But I guess I can work towards more. And that's my very vague new year's resolution.

10 years

Every time I go home, I like going through my things and remembering times past. My shelves and drawers are cluttered with photos and journals and stories I've written. In Ithaca I am mostly a forward looking person, because nothing much is stored there relating to who I was, so I focus on who I strive to be. But when I come home, I realize I rather like and miss this person who stayed in this room in which I'm sleeping.

I was flipping through my journal at home. There is an entry every few months, because I had to be in a certain mood to write and record. But there was one tradition I kept up for quite a few years, that on my birthday I would record my most up-to-date status in life, in the form of lists. Here is a snapshot of me on my 18th birthday:

Favorites: Ed Harris, Edward Norton, Books by Cynthia Voigt, the song "Starry Night" by Don McLean, History, Physics, ice treats, solitude and friends.

My hopes, dreams and fantasies: be in a band, act in a movie, become a brilliant scientist, travel around the world, publish a book, keep in touch with all my best friends, and study in a world renowned institute of science.

I read this and laugh at how young and silly I was. But am also impressed that I am now studying physics at a decent graduate school (I recall that this seemed the hardest task to achieve when I was 18!). I don't want to be in a band anymore, but I would like to be in a movie (or on broadway). Publishing a book doesn't seem all that hard anymore, although writing a good one does. And keeping in touch with friends has had mixed results, friendship is a two-way street after all...

Now that it is 9 years later, and the start of a new year, let me record once more:

Favorites: yummy vegetable dishes, fresh kale from the garden, bubble tea, spending time with my sister, apricot flavored white tea, hanging out with friends, cooking for people, watching documentaries on how the world is messed-up and feeling self-righteous, yoga, dance, singing, mario-kart, finishing a book, and interesting conversations about random things.

My aspirations: travel the world, not feel like a total loser when I get my Ph.D., make a positive difference in other's lives, not lose my temper at stupid things, and make better choices in general (plus be in a movie or on broadway)