Advice needed - How To Dream A Dream?

I woke up with an half-wet t-shirt this morning. It's all because of a scary dream. Well, it's not about blood everywhere or about ghosts, that kind of scary.

In my dream, I was visiting a skyscraper with some friends. The building was taller than Taipei 101 and was even much taller than the new record winner - Burj Dubai, which is about 800 meters in Dubai. In fact, in my dream when my friends and I got to the highest floor of the skyscraper, we were actually in outer space.

Before I noticed that my friends and I were standing and taking some rest under a dark blue sign, there had already been thousands of people queuing after us. And I was the head of the line.

The dark blue sign seemed like a MRT station sign. So I was thinking, "ok, taking MRT, ummm...not a bad idea. think it will bring us to the center of the city."

After a few minutes, a roofless black train followed his track arrived. Because of being the head of the long queue, I was sitting at the first row of the roofless train. The train departed elegantly and smoothly. No doubt it was a normal train until we kept speeding up and I realised that it was actually a roller coaster!

While we were reaching the supersonic speed, the roofless black roller coaster also came to the end of its track. Suddenly, it was like a hystrical cork which was just popping out from a bottle of champagne after massive shakes. The roller coaster was not only flying and dashing with a mad speed in all kinds of directions in the universe, but also doing some tumblings and spins at the same time. And when friction from doing all the tricks slowed down the roller coaster, there came a long long free fall to bring us from the universe down to about sea level to meet another track. And then, it would speed up until we were in the universe and fast enough to do all the tricks again.

After many repeats of the whole process and running out all my energy to continue screaming and swearing in my dream, I woke up. No surprise that even with eight-hours sleeping, I still felt very tired.

Don't know what will come out if I try to google "how to dream a baby pink and princess theme merry-go-round dream."

I just want a good sleep tonight.

Always Get The Right Line Ready

Many years ago once I remember telling one of my college friends Yang that she and I had almost the same height. Yang felt hilarious but also slightly annoyed and said, 'Can't believe you say that! Don't you aware that your line of vision was going up when you're talking to me?!'

My explanation and theory to Yang then was maybe it's because most of time in my life I have to lift my chin with different angles when I talk to people. Since it is too often and I've got used to it, I stop feeling others are actually that much taller than I am.

I almost forgot about my crap theory until this afternoon Hannah, who I am sure is at least 5cm shorter than I am, said, 'After not seeing you for years, you are still petite and have the same height with me.'

Hannah and I were college schoolmates. Even though we usually found it interesting and relaxing talking to each other, we seldom hung out together then. After losing contact since our graduation, the connection was built again via facebook.

But not like those 'only-want-to-be-a-muted-voyeur' friends, Hannah sent me a message and asked me if I want to have a cup of coffee with her shortly after I clicked the 'accept' button.

Not hard to tell that Hannah brought me to a famous and popular afternoon tea shop. Layers of people were surrounding the small patio outside of the shop as if we were waiting to see a brilliant street performer playing ten oranges with his hands and spitting out flame at the same time. According to the waiting number we got, I estimated an hour of waiting was inevitable.

Queuing for at least an hour to get a cup of coffee and a piece of cake or some sandwiches while it was chilly and had some thin liquid threads falling from the sky?! Come on! It's crazy.

While I was planning how to make Hannah understand that patience is never my virtue and persuade her that the coffee and the cake next door would be as good as well, a waitress came out and said, 'Excuse me. If there are two guests who don't mind to sit at the counter, you may go inside right now. Anyone? Please raise your hand to let me know.'

I know I should ask Hannah first, but I just couldn't help to instantly stand on my tiptoe and put my right palm as high as possible above my head after the waitress closed her mouth. Maybe Hannah felt the threats from my eyes when I asked her. She smiled and said she doesn't mind before the waitress decided to let us in.

Honestly I don't understand why most of people preferred waiting for an hour than enjoying their time with their friends at the moment while also be able to monitor that their sandwich will be spread with enough butter and be put in decent amount of smoked chicken.

The afternoon was a bit like Hannah's press conference about her wonderful three-months trip in America. But I didn't feel annoyed at all. In fact, I often feel fascinated about people's self-help journey. I can understand that it's what may happen when you discovered and experienced the unexpected scenery or enlightenment from the expedition - you may have no time to swallow your spit and want to share the joy and excitement with others about what you've encountered.

I asked Hannah a question which I was asked frequently when people knew about my trip to the UK and Japan in 2007 - Did anything dangerous happen? Have you felt scared during your travel?

Hannah gave me the same answer that I offered to the people - 'No. I seldom felt afraid. Think it's because I prepared the information I need in advance. Or maybe I was just lucky.'

While I was just going to identify myself with her, Hannah continued and shared her friend's story with me.

Once on a very crowded tube in New york, Hannah's Taiwanese friend was sure that there was a palm sticking on her butt. She turned her head and stared at the man with a firm and serious voice, and said, "Do not touch me." But the guy wore a evil smile and answered with an obscene look, 'Why not?' Then it ended up with Hannah's friend getting off the tube at the next stop embarrassingly.

Hannah and I both felt lucky that none of this kind of thing happened to us. But think even if it does happen, I have my line ready. My advice for Hannah was - Never hesitate to start with the F word and make sure that everyone there knows that his name is wanker.

To Ignore Or Not To Ignore

I am not being too serious about it or taking it too far. I am just trying to value having such a clear and very straightforward chance to decide who can or can not walk into my life.

People may use Facebook for many different purposes. For me, it's all about sharing my PRIVATE life. Maybe I am self-obsessed. But just think it's equally rude for people to be a peeping Tom, make themselves at home in my life but NEVER even try to say hi after I accepted their 'friend' request.

I know there is privacy setting and there is also a button called "delete" in friends list. Trust me, I think some people may have found themselves getting lost on their way to my home now (if they try to.) But there are still some peeping Toms who swear never going to talk to me hiding in my friends list.

This evening I saw a new friend request on my Facebook. It's not at all a stranger. But since I can count with a single hand about how many sincere "Happy birthday!" I have received from the person during the past recent years, I can only assume that this 'friend' will not have the time and the energy to leave a comment when he sees the five-year-old me in my red bikini.

Problems must be solved from the root. Therefore, this time, about my pompous friends list, I decided to take action at the very beginning rather than grumbling and trimming it later.

Sorry! ("Ignore" button clicked.)

The Life-Changing Ten Months

The draft of this entry has been deleted and rewritten many times since I started this blog. Cos just thinking about the still vivid past and the disorientated future often make my fingers spend most their time being in a trance on the keyboard.

From junior high school to university, can't explain how my compass and my eyesight worked. The direction and the sign of my future were always clear to me - no professional or technical school, but high school, and then university and will definitely not choose English as my major.

None of my parents' opinions were involved at all. Not that I totally ignored their opinions. It's just I never really felt I would need them to tell me which way to go. It's like my everyday walk from home to school. On the way, attention and time could easily be distracted and wasted, but the crucial turn was just hard to be missed. It was as simple and nature as that. And the future even became more specific when I was at uni - to become a lawyer, just like most of my law school friends.

But after uni, the compass was somehow lost. And also, soon I suffered from one of the downsides of getting older - gradually deteriorating eyesight. Things became vague and it even got worse when I started my first and only full-time job I have had so far.

In 2005, I had my second job interview after only graduated from uni in a very short time. I remember I was trapped in a fancy library for about three hours to finish a paper test and for another 40 minutes for an interview. Finally, I left the impressive building with a free, cold and skinny chicken sandwich as lunch and an offer to work as a paralegal from next Monday.

It never occurred to the smug that it would turn out to be the longest and the darkest ten months of her life.

If people want to quickly get a picture of our life in the law firm. I will highly recommend the film, The Devil Wears Prada. For the people who haven't watched it, especially guys, I can assure you that it's not another chick flick. It's a documentary or a mental war film based on a true story!

Not sure it's the devil in my office acting on the silver screen, or simply just one of the many other devils in this world. One thing for sure about the common feature of the devils is a harsh tone and an icy look. And conventionally, even with the mahogany door firmly closed, it can still be loud and clear when the devil is yelling at someone in her office.

Moreover, under the devil's ruling, the clock ticked with a different sound. Time flies one hour a unit in the office to meet the format of the timesheet. Every entry of the timesheet must also accompany an equivalent work product. For example, 1079-01 0.2 Telephone conference with the officer of Patent Office about the patent application. It means I spent 12 minutes discussing a patent application for Client No. 1079-01. And the equivalent work product will be a short telephone conference report recording the conversation about it. This is how we charged our big company and celebrity clients with an hourly-rate bill. By how many chargeable hours we can provide from our own timesheet, it proves our value to the law firm.

There were times I worried about having an easy working day, since it would be difficult to fill the timesheet and come out with evidence to show how much I am worth.

In the law firm, 'freedom is slavery' is really being believed, since you will have your freedom once you become one of the senior partners. So, before achieving that, we have to endure being watched. By the devil. Through the timesheet.

Think people will still never get to imagine how tense our life could be, even when I share the private fact that Kevin, a junior lawyer, once shown me he got two coin-big areas on the back of his head that had no hair and I had already got my period missing for three months with no medical explanation then.

You may raise a question by now : why didn't you just quit if it's that stressful and painful? The answer is plain by looking at the past from now - cos I wasn't permitted. Not because of my supervisor, but myself.

In my generation, we are not only branded as "Generation Y" but also called "The Strawberry Generation" in Taiwan. The latter especially means an irresponsible generation that can't stand with pressure and will easily run away from challenges.

Turning in a resignation somehow meant to me was to admit my own failure and the rest of synonyms, to admit I was heavily knocked down with no teeth left in my mouth. Not to mention I would also be misunderstood and associated with the bad name that I always despise. Besides, it just wasn't that easy when you discovered and tried to face that the life was totally different from what you had pictured at uni. Hence, that's one of the reasons why I took an entrance exam to study for a master degree - to justify my resignation.

Luckily, I passed the exam and successfully got rid of the devil. But my dim future started to haunt me since then. To light the way to my future, I understand I need to be honest with myself and carefully listen to what I really want from my soul. But the process of it is like to consciously operate for myself.

It feels like I have to cut through every layer of my own skins, tissue and then bravely deep down to my bones to find out which cell or nerve goes wrong to blur my vision and also make me come up with so many questions : why can't I just like those 'normal' people who think some things will still be the same when you do it at the age of sixty after retire with my pension? And why can't I just accept that it will be a shortcut to things I want as long as I suffer for a relatively short time? Why am I being so serious about this? Why can't I be quiet not to ask so many questions? Why... Why.... And why.....?

While still being at the early stage of the operation, I think it is still too early to claim my breakup with law. The only two preliminary discoveries are : (1) Law firm will be the last choice of my future working place. (2) I am really not a pushover. I need MORE convincing answers than others about the questions above.

Another Guinness World Record?!

From Taipei Times - Taiwanese to kiss 100 men in Paris
English interview at the bottom of the page by Dan Bloom
The photos

Before Christina sent me the links above, I didn't notice it was on the news and had already had a storm-tide of viewers visiting her blog. Obviously Christina knew part of my appetite about news. The title did intrigued me and made me immediately gulped the links with my mouse. But after reading the article by Dan Bloom, I am...disappointed and worried.

The thing which disappoints and worries me is in the interview she said, as I quote, "now, a kiss seems like an amazing exchange of very interesting 'energy' for both the people kissing each other. That's what I've learned." If I were her ex-boyfriend, I would probably feel ashamed and then secretly try to find a cram school teaching about kissing or question if she had ever really loved me - is this something we need to spend two years living in Paris or to kiss 54 total strangers to know?!

Don't get me wrong. No matter what people think about her idea, I think the 27-year-old woman, Yang, is completely entitled to say it loud and proud that she did it for no reason but merely just a whim. And also about that's what she has learned. However, if it is going to be published as a book, her lack of purpose and a more creative enlightenment will greatly dilute my interest about the book and make me feel it is just like some of the Guinness World Records - it may mean a lot to the person who achieves a new record, but it brings and means almost nothing to me.

Before her coming book reveals her tips of how to break the ice when asking for a kiss from a stranger or shares with us that the exotic kisses will remove the shy and implicit character of we Chinese and make us be able to express the feelings more directly to the people we really love, I think I will tend to save the money to watch Daniel Craig being topless on the silver screen and walking in slow motion with his six packs and then passionately kiss the sexy Bond girl on the beach while the sun goes down.

The rainbow I miss

Last Saturday evening Gina and I took a casual cruise at Shida night-market before doing dinner together with Ivy. Usually the surroundings would be automatically switched to a muted mode when Gina and I hanged out together. Because our laughter, banter and oral reports of new developments of our recent life often became earplugs to block the rest of the sounds. But that evening, the voice from a radio programme from a small hair & beauty shop carried some powerful wind to blow away Gina's earplugs and thrust both of us into our own memory lane.

The radio programme might be called a Taiwanese version of Jeremy Vine's show on BBC Radio 2, which also talks about some hot topics of recent news . "Oh my God, I haven't listened to this programme since I came back. I think it's around 10 am in the UK right now" said Gina.

I have no idea how much an overseas phone call from the UK to my cell phone might cost, but according to the frequency Gina called me in 2007 during her last four months in the UK, I'll say it's pretty cheap. She was extremely suffering from homesick then. And the Taiwanese radio programme was her antibiotics to keep her temporarily healthy enough to count down her remaining days in the UK.

"Do you still remember the day we met at the coach station in Leeds? You know, your eyes couldn't look any smaller then," teasingly said Gina. "But seriously, even though we only spent three days together in the UK, you have no idea how glad I was to see you then." "I thought my eyes couldn't look any bigger! Since barely got any sleep on the plane and on the coach and met you at 5 am, it should be able to create double eyelids for me." I jokingly defended and repaid her a moved smile.

For the following three hours, my memory lane was clogged when having dinner with Ivy and Gina. But on my way home, it became smooth again. This time I walked into the scene of the opening night of demonstrating my pajamas to the UK. With a unique way to come on the stage, I was grinding my teeth in Gina's bed and sleeping with a letter "K" pose.

Due to my jet lag and lack of enough sleep, in the first formal evening in the UK I went to bed very early to review the beauty and hospitality of York that Gina and I discovered earlier that day. The mummy was well fixed in the "K" pose until Gina woke me up at about midnight. And I could tell from her serious face that it couldn't be about me invading her half of the bed or the noise my teeth had made.

"I only got two days left before going back to Taiwan and I found there were still soooooo many things to do before I leave. I even haven't collocated enough materials to bring back to Taiwan to complete my dissertation. Therefore, do you think tomorrow you can go to Manchester without me?" asked Gina. As a thoughtful, considerate and VERY sleepy friend, I told her "sure, of course" and then immediately and unconsciously back to my "K" pose.

The next day when I woke up in the early morning, I didn't know how to wake Gina up and told her I had been a somniloquist when I said yes to her last night. It would not be fine with me to go to Manchester by myself since I prepared nothing but relied on her to show me the city as we had discussed.

But, before I plowed a trench with my indecisive steps back and forth in Gina's room, I told myself that things couldn't be more frustrating and boring to wait until Gina wakes up or to find myself doing nothing in the end of my second day in the UK. Hence, "I am going to Manchester now. Let's have dinner together in the evening. E"- the note of me taking an adventure was stuck on Gina's laptop.

Follow the trail of my memory breadcrumbs of how Gina took me to York the day before and with some helps from a police officer, I got myself safely and smoothly to Manchester. That morning, outside of Manchester Piccadilly Station, the sky was painted with my mood - a widely spread of uneasy damp grey and a few gentle brushes of exciting white.

Not like my rest of well-planned days in the UK, Gina's sudden absence made me become duckweed and had no choice but drifted forward with the tide of the crowds. Don't know if it has anything to do with being a Law School student for many years. I was trained and used to put things into order or an organized plan. But at that time I even found the map from the Information Centre at the railway station was useless since three people I had asked all couldn't point out where I was and they included a guard from Primark. Time just couldn't crawl any slower then.

But strangely, the more I breathed in the slightly chilly air of the day, the more relaxed I became. And the air also brought my previous expectations about the whole journey back to me. Wasn't this just a part of what I had hoped for - to take a rest and have a cup of tea whenever and wherever I want and have time to watch how people walk, drink and laugh in this country!

I started to realize how rare the chance might be for me to quietly monopolize the view from a small cabin of the big wheel behind Manchester Arndale. And sometimes maybe being lonely is the beginning of being not lonely. Because as I was alone visiting Manchester Cathedral, a warm old British lady unexpectedly approached me and offered me a free guide about the cathedral. That afternoon I was taught a new point of view of getting lost and how to get along with a sense of feeling disoriented.

Even though I missed the announcement of the platform's changing and took the wrong train, back to Leeds I was still early enough to catch the dinner with Gina. Gina told me we were invited by her friends to have some simple dinner together at their flat.

The pizzas and the roasted chicken were well served with my story happened at the coach station at the airport. Gina's friends were amazed by my experience that the British old man sat next to me on the plane bought me a cookie and a cup of tea and left me with his business card for emergent help and also some coins to make phone calls to make sure I would be picked up in Leeds.

Chewing my pizza at the same time with their jealous exclamations of why they had never had this kind of luckiness during the past year in the UK, my focus and my mind were contentedly zooming out to the rainbow hanging outside of the window. I think the journey was destined to be beautiful and memorable.

Long time no see, beach!

For a few minutes my mind went completely blank when I took Ho and his friend's invitation to be a beach girl this Sunday afternoon. It was because the word "Beach" has disappeared in the dictionary in my mind for one or two years. I had tried, but still couldn't recall a vivid image the last time my feet were seasoned with a lot of finely ground black pepper after walking along the seaside.

The only beckoned memory was Ho was shining and popular when we studied at Law school. He played basketball for the basketball team of our Law school and also formed a band and became a leading singer of it. And apparently after not seeing him for quite a while, these days he has developed a new interest of going surfing during the weekend. And Ho's friend, Lin, was his high school classmate and used to be the drummer of Ho's band.

It was Lin's first time going surfing. I found it amusing when Ho told Lin how to carry a surfing board. Is a surfing board to man like a Hermès handbag to woman that there's a specific way to hold it to make you look posh?!

Today's waves were not suitable for surfing so we spent a lot of time sitting at the shallow part of the seashore and chatting under a foldable shed shared by a group of hospitable guys. Those guys were in their early thirties and were very friendly. They not only prevented us from getting sun burned, but also recharged our battery by providing snacks and beers.


Those guys were pretty creative since they made a crocodile (or a bad fish you might call) with sand. And just when I was going to compliment about their artistry, two of the guys started to discuss how about making a huge poo behind the tail of the crocodile - Ohhhhh, grow up, men!

Anyway, I stopped them from making the poo and had a very relaxing afternoon.