This heat is killing me!
I can never believe that I could have been so horribly unfortunate to have ended up on the fourth floor (highest floor) of a brick building, in a room so small that the air is packed. Once the heat sipped in, it won't leave. The fan is powerless compared to the packed air that won't move. The hall way is also small, and the window screen seems too strong a barrier for the wind to come in.
But if I walked downstairs, I could distinctly feel the decrease of the heat. If I walk along the basement's hallway, I feel the chill biting my skin, sucking the heat and sweat away. The difference is intolerable.
At day time, the first floor is also heated up (still cooler than the top floor). However, when the night descended, the temperature drops quickly like a person releasing a sigh. That is the first floor. It won't happen to the forth floor. No matter how much the temperature decreases, how strongly the wind hits the building, how vigorously the rain falls, the heat won't go away.
It sticks to the skin, blocks your airway, presses on you when you touch anything. It surrounded you, and won't let you escape.
The student center, library, even wellness center-basically any air conditioned resort- are closed. Academic buildings that students work in deny swipe-access during weekend. There's not much you can do within walking distance. And a walk of only a block away can drench you and torture you well enough.
This sort of situation is hopeless, and it burns me, with heat and anger!
Saturday, July 7, 2012
Thursday, July 5, 2012
Burning me up
I woke up at 2AM in the morning. For a person who took a full 15 minutes to fully function, it took the heat only thirty seconds to rip me off my confused state.
I felt like I was trapped in an invisible prison of heat, I got up, sat in front of the fan, and the wind that was coming off it was only slightly less hot than the still air. I was desperate. Sitting for a while, I wondered if I could sleep sitting up. Not possible.
After a lot of deliberation, I stood up and opened the door of my room. The air outside was slightly cooler than the stuffy air block in my room, but it was nothing considerable. Still, I need to keep the door open for the air to circulate. What should I do?
I finally resolve to the solution that others had done on my floor, putting a big drapery over the door so that the air can float by easily without exposing the interior of your room to all passer-by. I moved my chair, in my hand, my bed cover piece. This should be good, I thought. Standing on the chair I reached over to the top of the door, to be disappointed by the fact that I could not even reach the ceiling where I could contemporarily hang the piece of fabric. Arghhh. The heat drove me crazy. And even if I tried to think, I could not come up with any other solution.
I moved my fan over to the plug that was closer to the door, hoping to pull in some air from outside. The problem with the door was still there.
Eventually I gave up and risk my privacy to leave the door open and go to sleep. It took me more than half an hour to fall back to sleep. Never had I been put into such a horrible situation.
I felt like I was trapped in an invisible prison of heat, I got up, sat in front of the fan, and the wind that was coming off it was only slightly less hot than the still air. I was desperate. Sitting for a while, I wondered if I could sleep sitting up. Not possible.
After a lot of deliberation, I stood up and opened the door of my room. The air outside was slightly cooler than the stuffy air block in my room, but it was nothing considerable. Still, I need to keep the door open for the air to circulate. What should I do?
I finally resolve to the solution that others had done on my floor, putting a big drapery over the door so that the air can float by easily without exposing the interior of your room to all passer-by. I moved my chair, in my hand, my bed cover piece. This should be good, I thought. Standing on the chair I reached over to the top of the door, to be disappointed by the fact that I could not even reach the ceiling where I could contemporarily hang the piece of fabric. Arghhh. The heat drove me crazy. And even if I tried to think, I could not come up with any other solution.
I moved my fan over to the plug that was closer to the door, hoping to pull in some air from outside. The problem with the door was still there.
Eventually I gave up and risk my privacy to leave the door open and go to sleep. It took me more than half an hour to fall back to sleep. Never had I been put into such a horrible situation.
Tuesday, June 19, 2012
Summer food adventure no.2
More food!
This was my attempt to make Katsudon: a rice bowl with omelet and tonkatsu (fried pork covered with bread crumb. It was not so good too look at, and the bread crumb was too thin. But the taste was awesome nonetheless!
This was my attempt to make Katsudon: a rice bowl with omelet and tonkatsu (fried pork covered with bread crumb. It was not so good too look at, and the bread crumb was too thin. But the taste was awesome nonetheless!
Tomato mussel soup, with deep fried shallot. It wasn't sour enough, but the fragrance was good.
Shrimp mixed stir-fry: mushrooms, broccoli, carrot, onion and celery. Ummm~~~ Reminded me of Tet's food.
A simple lunch box with all left-overs: fried sweet potato, beef stir-fry with celery and green pepper, and cabbage-egg stir-fry.
A true adventure this time! Rice vermicelli with ribs and pork feet tomato soup. Colored by turmeric powder. Believe me, I would have put in the real turmeric if I could.
Monday, June 18, 2012
It doesn't wait
"Maybe I can leave it for tomorrow."
"I will do it next time."
"Oh, I have time for that, later."
How many times have you pushed your tasks forward in time, thinking that on the eternity one-direction flow of it, you can carve out a negligible piece of time and keep it in your little pocket? Sure enough, it doesn't make a different plucking a hair out of the cat, theoretically.
However, time does not stop simply because you make a gap and hop over it. Flower withered along with every rise and set of the sun. You leave the flower today, and tomorrow you come back, it is not the same. Food decay as the bacteria work theirs way. You leave a piece of bread outside, later on it will grow mold.
Time does not belong to your manipulation. It is true that your mind perceive time as uneven, but it does not change the fact that other living and nonliving aspect of life also perceive time in their own way.
You leave the flower for today, and it rains at night, then the flower is totally damaged.
Time doesn't wait and it doesn't take shortcut.
PS: I was just simply thinking about how I kept putting off taking certain photos of flower and they are not there to take picture of anymore.
Sunday, June 3, 2012
Summer Food Adventure
It's summer. I'm living alone, having research assistant job. And, I am responsible for my nutrition balance. I will continually posting picture of the food that I cooked. After all, it's boring, once you cook too much, to cook the same thing again and cook the simple dishes.
So today, I tried my luck with "bún măng" (round rice noodle with bamboo shoot and pig feet split soup). Of course, there are not enough ingredients. I don't have round rice noodle, so I used spaghetti instead (angel-hair to be exact). It is definitely not the same thing. The rice noodle has a cool, pleasant feeling when it touches your tongue and it adds a special sour taste to the dish. The pig feet split was also a big challenge. To cut it into suitable pieces, I had to accumulate all my muscle strength. Bamboo shoot came in a can, which was not the most awesome thing either. At first, the soup turned out to be salty and I was worried. However, as I added the noodle and lime juice to the soup, the flavor became perfect.
Enough talking, here it is:
Bonus are the pictures of my lunch box :P
So today, I tried my luck with "bún măng" (round rice noodle with bamboo shoot and pig feet split soup). Of course, there are not enough ingredients. I don't have round rice noodle, so I used spaghetti instead (angel-hair to be exact). It is definitely not the same thing. The rice noodle has a cool, pleasant feeling when it touches your tongue and it adds a special sour taste to the dish. The pig feet split was also a big challenge. To cut it into suitable pieces, I had to accumulate all my muscle strength. Bamboo shoot came in a can, which was not the most awesome thing either. At first, the soup turned out to be salty and I was worried. However, as I added the noodle and lime juice to the soup, the flavor became perfect.
Enough talking, here it is:
Bonus are the pictures of my lunch box :P
Saturday, June 2, 2012
Vent out
Taking in, taking it all in,
Tumblr, Deviantart, minitokyo.net, Pinterest
My part time job of net-surfing. I scrolled down the dashboard/ homepage/ news feed, looking at all the good drawings/ paintings, fanarts and occasionally photographs.
The art made my heart thrilled, the beauty slid into my eyes - the lines, the color, the transparency, the blur, the delicate, the detailed. Everything. Piled up in my brain, but never seemed to reach a limit.
All I want to do let it out, by drawing exactly the same thing that I saw, copy, retrace, reference, anyway that works. But my conscience did not allowed. No copying, no tracing, maybe rare referencing.
I learn it now though, whatever it is, as long as I can draw, no matter if I am reusing somebody's ideas, attempting on the same characteristics, or just basing off a photograph. I will tramper my conscience, because I need to vent the pressure out - the pressure of art that piled up.
Tumblr, Deviantart, minitokyo.net, Pinterest
My part time job of net-surfing. I scrolled down the dashboard/ homepage/ news feed, looking at all the good drawings/ paintings, fanarts and occasionally photographs.
The art made my heart thrilled, the beauty slid into my eyes - the lines, the color, the transparency, the blur, the delicate, the detailed. Everything. Piled up in my brain, but never seemed to reach a limit.
All I want to do let it out, by drawing exactly the same thing that I saw, copy, retrace, reference, anyway that works. But my conscience did not allowed. No copying, no tracing, maybe rare referencing.
I learn it now though, whatever it is, as long as I can draw, no matter if I am reusing somebody's ideas, attempting on the same characteristics, or just basing off a photograph. I will tramper my conscience, because I need to vent the pressure out - the pressure of art that piled up.
Sunday, May 27, 2012
1Q84 vs. 2Q12
It feels like playing dice.
The alternating in the character's turn of story telling Haruki Murakami used in 1Q48 set you in the mood of game playing. You wanted to skip a chapter to continue the story that you were following. When Ushikawa's narrative was added as the third story line in book 3, you became even more unsettled in waiting for your turn to roll the dice, i.e. for the story line that you were interested in.
As the story unfold, however, I found that the main characters lead a life that is very similar to mine, in principle. First of all, they all live alone. Second, they have very few tie with the world, and they always remain a strict, repetitive and balance life style. Third, they always make sure their mind is clear and sane.
Of course, I don't literally live alone. I have a roommate during school year; I have a family if I come back home; but right now, this summer of 2012, I am living in a single room. My friend is three door down in the hall way, and the dorm is packed with people I know. But, in my room, there is only me. There are two sets of furniture since this is supposedly a double room: two beds, two desks, two chairs, one big bookshelf, and two drawers. The room was tiny though, so living in a double-single isn't all that luxurious. I used the lower bed as my sleeping space, the desk next to it my recreational corner. The bed that was lofted became a storage space with stuffs that people left under my care during the summer. The table under it is my productive area where I draw and study PCAT.
Today is Sunday, my first completely day-off from work. Saturday I always had a skype session with my parents and went grocery shopping in the afternoon. Today, however, I let myself do what I want. I slept until 9 AM and then rolled around in bed for 17 minutes before getting off the bed. The sun was obnoxiously dashing through the window and illuminating a piece of carpet. The air was mildly hot and stuffy. The white build-it-yourself fan was effortlessly pushing air forward. The atmosphere felt like home, except I was not.
This is the reason why I said my life resembles Aomame's and Tengo's. Waking up at 9 AM is considered a treat for myself. I would never let myself indulge in sleeping away the morning. I am not fond of that. Then, I had breakfast, and started my day checking facebook, Y!mail, tumblr and any websites that I could check on updates. After breakfast, which was yummy and unhealthy instant noodle, I browse through items on Urban-outfitters and Lulus for online shopping. That was not my habit. It just happened that this weekend was memorial weekend and I could get some pretty deal. I did not check out any items so far.
I started reading 1Q84 from where I left off at around 10:30 AM. I made a rule to myself that I would not read 1Q84 in the evening, and I have been working 8 hours straight everyday. My reading schedule had been interrupted severely. My stomach growled at something past noon. I heated up food that I cooked from the previous day, and continued reading as I ate. I also tried the American peaches that I bought yesterday. These would be pretty expensive back home, I assumed. They did not taste bad, and were especially fresh and crunchy. Around 2:30PM, I decided that I have had enough dose of 1Q84 for a day, so I stopped and started writing this entry. Everything that I do during a day would always be carefully measured out in my head so that I could have a pretty good amount of things I want to do. After all, the weekend is not that long.
The balancing of activities that I do also relates to the fact that I want to keep my mind under control. I want to keep my sense and emotion in checked. Thus, I don't sleep without an alarm clock on. I don't read as much as I want and let myself be obsessed with the other world. I don't browse the Internet endlessly and drain my energy on such bottomless thing. That is how I keep my sanity straight. It is important to always know what is real, what is going on, and what is the coordination of time and space when I am alone, because there is no other person to keep me on pace with reality. I am very easy to lose myself in my own world, and only a different being from myself can be my reality anchor.
All this being said, my shoulder is tired and I am bored of typing now. I will, hopefully, follow up with a post about my definition of reality anchor.
The alternating in the character's turn of story telling Haruki Murakami used in 1Q48 set you in the mood of game playing. You wanted to skip a chapter to continue the story that you were following. When Ushikawa's narrative was added as the third story line in book 3, you became even more unsettled in waiting for your turn to roll the dice, i.e. for the story line that you were interested in.
As the story unfold, however, I found that the main characters lead a life that is very similar to mine, in principle. First of all, they all live alone. Second, they have very few tie with the world, and they always remain a strict, repetitive and balance life style. Third, they always make sure their mind is clear and sane.
Of course, I don't literally live alone. I have a roommate during school year; I have a family if I come back home; but right now, this summer of 2012, I am living in a single room. My friend is three door down in the hall way, and the dorm is packed with people I know. But, in my room, there is only me. There are two sets of furniture since this is supposedly a double room: two beds, two desks, two chairs, one big bookshelf, and two drawers. The room was tiny though, so living in a double-single isn't all that luxurious. I used the lower bed as my sleeping space, the desk next to it my recreational corner. The bed that was lofted became a storage space with stuffs that people left under my care during the summer. The table under it is my productive area where I draw and study PCAT.
Today is Sunday, my first completely day-off from work. Saturday I always had a skype session with my parents and went grocery shopping in the afternoon. Today, however, I let myself do what I want. I slept until 9 AM and then rolled around in bed for 17 minutes before getting off the bed. The sun was obnoxiously dashing through the window and illuminating a piece of carpet. The air was mildly hot and stuffy. The white build-it-yourself fan was effortlessly pushing air forward. The atmosphere felt like home, except I was not.
This is the reason why I said my life resembles Aomame's and Tengo's. Waking up at 9 AM is considered a treat for myself. I would never let myself indulge in sleeping away the morning. I am not fond of that. Then, I had breakfast, and started my day checking facebook, Y!mail, tumblr and any websites that I could check on updates. After breakfast, which was yummy and unhealthy instant noodle, I browse through items on Urban-outfitters and Lulus for online shopping. That was not my habit. It just happened that this weekend was memorial weekend and I could get some pretty deal. I did not check out any items so far.
I started reading 1Q84 from where I left off at around 10:30 AM. I made a rule to myself that I would not read 1Q84 in the evening, and I have been working 8 hours straight everyday. My reading schedule had been interrupted severely. My stomach growled at something past noon. I heated up food that I cooked from the previous day, and continued reading as I ate. I also tried the American peaches that I bought yesterday. These would be pretty expensive back home, I assumed. They did not taste bad, and were especially fresh and crunchy. Around 2:30PM, I decided that I have had enough dose of 1Q84 for a day, so I stopped and started writing this entry. Everything that I do during a day would always be carefully measured out in my head so that I could have a pretty good amount of things I want to do. After all, the weekend is not that long.
The balancing of activities that I do also relates to the fact that I want to keep my mind under control. I want to keep my sense and emotion in checked. Thus, I don't sleep without an alarm clock on. I don't read as much as I want and let myself be obsessed with the other world. I don't browse the Internet endlessly and drain my energy on such bottomless thing. That is how I keep my sanity straight. It is important to always know what is real, what is going on, and what is the coordination of time and space when I am alone, because there is no other person to keep me on pace with reality. I am very easy to lose myself in my own world, and only a different being from myself can be my reality anchor.
All this being said, my shoulder is tired and I am bored of typing now. I will, hopefully, follow up with a post about my definition of reality anchor.
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