December 31, 2005


A very pretty girl dwells in a very pretty daisy. She is the angel, the queen over all of the flowers.

Angel in a flower

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A very pretty girl dwells in a very pretty daisy. She is the angel, the queen over all of the flowers.

Saturday, December 31, 2005
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December 28, 2005

I had eagerly waited to see "Memoirs of a Geisha". Everything about it seemed to pre-qualify it as a very good movie: the famed director, Rob Marshall, who directed "Chicago", a dazzling movie with "all that jazz" and dances; the very best Chinese actresses, Gong Li and Zhiyi Zhang. You have to be blind not to know them if you even just occasionally read some movie magazines; And it's topic, Japan with forever cherry blossoms and Japanese Geishas with their endless innuendos, … the sex, the beauty, the kimonos and the subculture.

But after I saw the movie myself, I think from now on I would much prefer seeing movies of Chinese martial arts, e.g., “The house of Flying Daggers”. Or at least I would much prefer Zhang Yimou to Rob Marshall, even though "Geisha" has often been compared to "Red Lantern".

Geisha is a pretty bad movie. Everything about it feels wrong, forced, affecting and lame. The dialogues, made worse by the heavy-accented delivery, were recited out like maxims from Mao's age. There was no shortage of cheap life philosophy. The chairman said to the little future-geisha something like "Next time you stumble do not cry" after he bought her sweets. Or Zhang ZhiYi’s Sayuri played wise: “You cannot judge a man from his appearance”. Nor shortage of one-line declarations: "I am innocent", "I will destroy you!".

The acting to me is very much overacted. Gong Li's Hatsumomo, with her often-unkempt hair, sneers and stares, is so intensely mean and treacherous that she lost depth and dimensions. Like caricatures from old movies. I read in the Time how Gong Li cried the whole time when the movie was over and workers cleaned the set. I was moved then, now I think how she could overact even offset.

(I wish I could say something better. I like most of her movies. I read gossips about her.)

The heart of the movie, the bare-threaded love story between the Sayuri and the "chairman" (he does not even have a name), is one of most unconvincing boring love stories I have seen. A little girl met an adult man (accompanied by two Geishas). He bought her sweets; she fell in love for him and determined to become a Geisha. She secretly kept his handkerchief. She met him again after about 10 years or so. She willingly or unwillingly waited on and flirted with numerous clients, including his friend. She sold her virginity at the highest price, while she adamantly declared her love for the chairman. Later, after America invaded, she bathed with Americans and later had sex with the general. Sure, she does all these because of her love for the chairman.

The movie ended with Sayuri and the chairman holding each other, and Sayuri declared something like “everything I do is to get closer to you.”

The movie is filled with a lot of subplots of catfights between Hatsumomo and Sayuri. Very raw and stupefying. At its climax, Gong Li’s characters burned down the Geisha house. Yet miraculously, Zayuri kept the little handkerchief intact.

It also skims though the art of being of a Geisha, through Zayuri’s initiation. Very short and superfluous. But I enjoyed this part the most.

Roger Ebert says, “I suspect that the more you know about Japan and movies, the less you would like ‘Geisha’”. I think differently. However much you know about Japan or movies, it is unlikely you would love the movie.

It is too banal, too bad.

Memoirs Of a Geisha

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I had eagerly waited to see "Memoirs of a Geisha". Everything about it seemed to pre-qualify it as a very good movie: the famed director, Rob Marshall, who directed "Chicago", a dazzling movie with "all that jazz" and dances; the very best Chinese actresses, Gong Li and Zhiyi Zhang. You have to be blind not to know them if you even just occasionally read some movie magazines; And it's topic, Japan with forever cherry blossoms and Japanese Geishas with their endless innuendos, … the sex, the beauty, the kimonos and the subculture.

But after I saw the movie myself, I think from now on I would much prefer seeing movies of Chinese martial arts, e.g., “The house of Flying Daggers”. Or at least I would much prefer Zhang Yimou to Rob Marshall, even though "Geisha" has often been compared to "Red Lantern".

Geisha is a pretty bad movie. Everything about it feels wrong, forced, affecting and lame. The dialogues, made worse by the heavy-accented delivery, were recited out like maxims from Mao's age. There was no shortage of cheap life philosophy. The chairman said to the little future-geisha something like "Next time you stumble do not cry" after he bought her sweets. Or Zhang ZhiYi’s Sayuri played wise: “You cannot judge a man from his appearance”. Nor shortage of one-line declarations: "I am innocent", "I will destroy you!".

The acting to me is very much overacted. Gong Li's Hatsumomo, with her often-unkempt hair, sneers and stares, is so intensely mean and treacherous that she lost depth and dimensions. Like caricatures from old movies. I read in the Time how Gong Li cried the whole time when the movie was over and workers cleaned the set. I was moved then, now I think how she could overact even offset.

(I wish I could say something better. I like most of her movies. I read gossips about her.)

The heart of the movie, the bare-threaded love story between the Sayuri and the "chairman" (he does not even have a name), is one of most unconvincing boring love stories I have seen. A little girl met an adult man (accompanied by two Geishas). He bought her sweets; she fell in love for him and determined to become a Geisha. She secretly kept his handkerchief. She met him again after about 10 years or so. She willingly or unwillingly waited on and flirted with numerous clients, including his friend. She sold her virginity at the highest price, while she adamantly declared her love for the chairman. Later, after America invaded, she bathed with Americans and later had sex with the general. Sure, she does all these because of her love for the chairman.

The movie ended with Sayuri and the chairman holding each other, and Sayuri declared something like “everything I do is to get closer to you.”

The movie is filled with a lot of subplots of catfights between Hatsumomo and Sayuri. Very raw and stupefying. At its climax, Gong Li’s characters burned down the Geisha house. Yet miraculously, Zayuri kept the little handkerchief intact.

It also skims though the art of being of a Geisha, through Zayuri’s initiation. Very short and superfluous. But I enjoyed this part the most.

Roger Ebert says, “I suspect that the more you know about Japan and movies, the less you would like ‘Geisha’”. I think differently. However much you know about Japan or movies, it is unlikely you would love the movie.

It is too banal, too bad.

Wednesday, December 28, 2005
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December 25, 2005

Days Of Sand And Sunshine (Larry W. Jones )

Warm days of sand and sunshine
When we stroll down by the bay
Is a wonderland on a far flung shore
A song of love that's sung for evermore

Warm days of sand and sunshine
In the tradewinds of summer time
Tells me that my dreams come true
In these days of sand and sunshine
With you

Just being here with you is like a summer breeze
A breeze that makes sweet memories
A wonderland on a far flung shore
A song of love that's sung for evermore

Days of Sunshine and Sand

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Days Of Sand And Sunshine (Larry W. Jones )

Warm days of sand and sunshine
When we stroll down by the bay
Is a wonderland on a far flung shore
A song of love that's sung for evermore

Warm days of sand and sunshine
In the tradewinds of summer time
Tells me that my dreams come true
In these days of sand and sunshine
With you

Just being here with you is like a summer breeze
A breeze that makes sweet memories
A wonderland on a far flung shore
A song of love that's sung for evermore

Sunday, December 25, 2005
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December 21, 2005

I bought my first apartment late last year, in 2004. A one-bedroom condo in a five-story building.

The process was easy, considering the gravity of decision and the size of commitment to make. But hey, we are in a real estate boom, everyone buys a house, with or without money, or job, or good credit. The most convincing argument to me is that every time you pay mortgage you put money in your bank.

Sounds good. Time to own you own place.

For more than 10 years, I have been moving around at an average rate of once every year. For various reasons, money or convenience, or both. With a neglegible amount of belongings and a "whatever, I do not care" mind-set, it is easy to just pack up, leave everything behind and go.

In 2004 I had Emma.

In 2005, We really wanted and then decided to buy a place for our own.

The first step was to get a mortgage. We sent out copies of passports, visas, pay stubs, w-2, tax-return forms, bank statements... everything that could prove that we were legal and not entirely penniless.

The second step was to look. We were not looking for a dream surburbia place with a swimming pool, a front meadow and a back yard. That is for desperate housewives. Not even two-bedrooms. No. Affordable is the key.

We were not ambitious enough to try to bank on the future potential of our soon-to-be-ours property. It is tempting though when the on-site financiers calculated how your investment would grow in five years. Wow, they knew all the terms that were never before existed in my dictionary.

We wandered into a few open houses, playing cool. Since we did not know anything, we asked polite and banal questions, like how big is the apt., how much is the assessment? We made full use of the Internet, searching and receiving emails and emails of available possible properties in the nearby neighborhood. However, no power search was needed, since our criterias were simple and few.

Money, money or lack of money decides all. Even if it were money borrowed. But to us simple-minded fellows, money borrowed is money to be returned. We never could understand when people say money can labor itself and grow two or three-fold.

It did not take long. After a few viewing of spacious modern condos that were not quite in our affordable range, we jumped on a small yet Ok-looking and decent-priced place.

Then the rest happened in a whirlwind. We made an offer, did a quick bargaining, signed tons of paper who knows what, skipped the steps of decoration, remodeling, fixing, or whatever, we moved in.

Everyone says the real estate bubble is soon to burst. We jumped right in.

And now, I want a two-bedroom.

Into the real estate bubble

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I bought my first apartment late last year, in 2004. A one-bedroom condo in a five-story building.

The process was easy, considering the gravity of decision and the size of commitment to make. But hey, we are in a real estate boom, everyone buys a house, with or without money, or job, or good credit. The most convincing argument to me is that every time you pay mortgage you put money in your bank.

Sounds good. Time to own you own place.

For more than 10 years, I have been moving around at an average rate of once every year. For various reasons, money or convenience, or both. With a neglegible amount of belongings and a "whatever, I do not care" mind-set, it is easy to just pack up, leave everything behind and go.

In 2004 I had Emma.

In 2005, We really wanted and then decided to buy a place for our own.

The first step was to get a mortgage. We sent out copies of passports, visas, pay stubs, w-2, tax-return forms, bank statements... everything that could prove that we were legal and not entirely penniless.

The second step was to look. We were not looking for a dream surburbia place with a swimming pool, a front meadow and a back yard. That is for desperate housewives. Not even two-bedrooms. No. Affordable is the key.

We were not ambitious enough to try to bank on the future potential of our soon-to-be-ours property. It is tempting though when the on-site financiers calculated how your investment would grow in five years. Wow, they knew all the terms that were never before existed in my dictionary.

We wandered into a few open houses, playing cool. Since we did not know anything, we asked polite and banal questions, like how big is the apt., how much is the assessment? We made full use of the Internet, searching and receiving emails and emails of available possible properties in the nearby neighborhood. However, no power search was needed, since our criterias were simple and few.

Money, money or lack of money decides all. Even if it were money borrowed. But to us simple-minded fellows, money borrowed is money to be returned. We never could understand when people say money can labor itself and grow two or three-fold.

It did not take long. After a few viewing of spacious modern condos that were not quite in our affordable range, we jumped on a small yet Ok-looking and decent-priced place.

Then the rest happened in a whirlwind. We made an offer, did a quick bargaining, signed tons of paper who knows what, skipped the steps of decoration, remodeling, fixing, or whatever, we moved in.

Everyone says the real estate bubble is soon to burst. We jumped right in.

And now, I want a two-bedroom.

Wednesday, December 21, 2005
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December 18, 2005

Fireworks. Dec 2005

Light Shower

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Fireworks. Dec 2005

Sunday, December 18, 2005
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At the top of world or cloud gate

At the top of cloud gate

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At the top of world or cloud gate

Sunday, December 18, 2005
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I longed to take a picture of Chicago night. But I probably never could. So steal one from the web, edit it a bit, put my dear Emma in it.

Emma the winter baby. Chicago night in the distant background.

Chicago Night

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I longed to take a picture of Chicago night. But I probably never could. So steal one from the web, edit it a bit, put my dear Emma in it.

Emma the winter baby. Chicago night in the distant background.

Sunday, December 18, 2005
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Better not read the book if you were to see the movie, especially if it is a good movie. This is all I can say about "Brokeback Mountain".

I read the novel, a short fiction published in The New Yorker. I chewed the dialogues, especially the now overly quoted one-line philosophy: "If you can't fix it, you got to stand it."

Or the dialogue:
"This is a one-shot thing we got going on here."
"Nobody’s business but ours."
"You know I ain’t queer."
"Me neither."


...

So when the movie began, I anticipated its unfolding, eagerly waited for Ennis (Heath Ledger) and Jack (Jack Gyllenhaal) to utter the words, say them exactly as I knew. I viewed the scenes and scenes of rocks, clouds, forests and rolling mountains as recalled the sentences in the original novel. I studied the pained and aged face of Ennis, thinking this was a face too old for an 19 year old. I think Jack is too handsome for the novel Jack Cowboy...

I tired myself.

Only toward the end, did I gradually pulled myself out of the novel, the words and sentences humming in my head and pained with the old tired miserable resigned Ennis.

I like the song played when the movie ended,
"Never had much money
Never quite satisfied
He is a friend of mine"

"Love under siege".

Brokeback Mountain

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Better not read the book if you were to see the movie, especially if it is a good movie. This is all I can say about "Brokeback Mountain".

I read the novel, a short fiction published in The New Yorker. I chewed the dialogues, especially the now overly quoted one-line philosophy: "If you can't fix it, you got to stand it."

Or the dialogue:
"This is a one-shot thing we got going on here."
"Nobody’s business but ours."
"You know I ain’t queer."
"Me neither."


...

So when the movie began, I anticipated its unfolding, eagerly waited for Ennis (Heath Ledger) and Jack (Jack Gyllenhaal) to utter the words, say them exactly as I knew. I viewed the scenes and scenes of rocks, clouds, forests and rolling mountains as recalled the sentences in the original novel. I studied the pained and aged face of Ennis, thinking this was a face too old for an 19 year old. I think Jack is too handsome for the novel Jack Cowboy...

I tired myself.

Only toward the end, did I gradually pulled myself out of the novel, the words and sentences humming in my head and pained with the old tired miserable resigned Ennis.

I like the song played when the movie ended,
"Never had much money
Never quite satisfied
He is a friend of mine"

"Love under siege".

Sunday, December 18, 2005
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December 17, 2005

I got it. To make a complex movie, especially on a global scale, you should just throw in one plot in every 5 minutes. Each plot must be fast-paced and sleek and scattered in different important places around the world, like Geneva, Beirut, Persian Gulf, and Washington is a must for a complex political movie. And remember, keep the characters uttering some theme-related words, like key words in a article that is aimed at search engines, for example, oil, heir, merger, synergy, so we all know this is about oil, big oil companies. Sure, to soften up the movie, add some wives, kids for decoration purposes. To keep relevance to the current society, put some plots referring some contemporary events, for instance, quote torture methods used on Falun Gong, or illustrate how a young man became a suicide bomber as a side note.

This is how Syriana is, at least to me. Despite the many reviews I have read, much admiration I have accrued because of the reviews, I walked out the theatre wondering what a big mesh and mess of plots I have just seen.

I went back to the reviews of the movies. Rogers Ebert thumbs up the movie and says the following: "The movie's plot is so complex we're not really supposed to follow it, we're supposed to be surrounded by it ..." There it is. Feeling like a child, watching up adults dress like important, talk like important, act like important, therefore obliged to admire, thinking "hey, it must be important."

I have seen this guy's movie "Traffic", also very complex, but I managed to follow and enjoyed tremendously. But this one, I lost.

How to make a complex movie, eg., Syriana

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I got it. To make a complex movie, especially on a global scale, you should just throw in one plot in every 5 minutes. Each plot must be fast-paced and sleek and scattered in different important places around the world, like Geneva, Beirut, Persian Gulf, and Washington is a must for a complex political movie. And remember, keep the characters uttering some theme-related words, like key words in a article that is aimed at search engines, for example, oil, heir, merger, synergy, so we all know this is about oil, big oil companies. Sure, to soften up the movie, add some wives, kids for decoration purposes. To keep relevance to the current society, put some plots referring some contemporary events, for instance, quote torture methods used on Falun Gong, or illustrate how a young man became a suicide bomber as a side note.

This is how Syriana is, at least to me. Despite the many reviews I have read, much admiration I have accrued because of the reviews, I walked out the theatre wondering what a big mesh and mess of plots I have just seen.

I went back to the reviews of the movies. Rogers Ebert thumbs up the movie and says the following: "The movie's plot is so complex we're not really supposed to follow it, we're supposed to be surrounded by it ..." There it is. Feeling like a child, watching up adults dress like important, talk like important, act like important, therefore obliged to admire, thinking "hey, it must be important."

I have seen this guy's movie "Traffic", also very complex, but I managed to follow and enjoyed tremendously. But this one, I lost.

Saturday, December 17, 2005
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December 16, 2005

Hungry! I want cookies!

Hungry!

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Hungry! I want cookies!

Friday, December 16, 2005
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December 11, 2005

Emma, we told Santa you have been a good girl. He would visit you in China

A Christmas card for Emma, sent by very good-looking and middle-aged Leo and Xun.

We have told Santa ...

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Emma, we told Santa you have been a good girl. He would visit you in China

A Christmas card for Emma, sent by very good-looking and middle-aged Leo and Xun.

Sunday, December 11, 2005
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December 08, 2005

I tried to put Emma in a bubble and add some special effects, applying a technique I just learned from the web. Obviously I am not very successful. Post it anyway.

Emma in a bubble

Emma in a bubble

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I tried to put Emma in a bubble and add some special effects, applying a technique I just learned from the web. Obviously I am not very successful. Post it anyway.

Emma in a bubble

Thursday, December 08, 2005
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December 07, 2005

The budding artist Emma (at age of merely 2) has produced the following works, which her teacher proudly hung on the wall and we took pictures of.



A Tree Leaf
Emma's Work: A tree leaf. 12/2005

Tasty Cookie
Emma's Work: Tasty cookie. 12/2005

My Soles
Emma's Work: My soles. 12/2005

Emma's work

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The budding artist Emma (at age of merely 2) has produced the following works, which her teacher proudly hung on the wall and we took pictures of.



A Tree Leaf
Emma's Work: A tree leaf. 12/2005

Tasty Cookie
Emma's Work: Tasty cookie. 12/2005

My Soles
Emma's Work: My soles. 12/2005

Wednesday, December 07, 2005
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December 06, 2005

This is a mock article of Anderson Cooper's same-titled article. (http://www.cnn.com/2005/US/09/28/vacations/). His from a rich, privileged, popular person's perspective; mine a poor, underprivileged, not-at-all-popular person's perspective.

Does anyone actually take vacations anymore? Pack up the wife, and the kids, go to the Grand Canyon ...

I think so. My boss went to Yellow Stone, with kids and a troop of others. My sister-in-law went to London before Thailand.

Do you think Brad and Matt really want to be frolicking at Clooney's place on Lake Como? Do you think Al Reynolds enjoys smearing suntan lotion on Star Jones like butter on a lobster at a Jamaican resort?

Maybe. Celebrities always do 2-in-1 vacations. They never stay in one place.

As a kid I used to fantasize vacations. Grown up so old, I have had just a few, far and between.

Paris Hilton has a house in the Hamptons, Rosie O'Donnell is planning a cruise, I've got nothing.

I think only the rich ones or the irresponsible take vacations.

Technically, that's true. If you are caught in the middle, dangling a little bit above poverty line, you are on your own.

I'm convinced a big reason I stay home and work full time was the fact that I am totally responsible. Now if I leave to take a vacation, I worry Emma would not be able to go to a decent preschool.

Even if I felt comfortable taking time off, I don't do vacations very well. By the second day I'm bored. Besides I have to be really careful not spending too much.

I used to think the problem was where I was vacationing, but it's not; the problem is me.

The last time I took a vacation, I went to a ex-professor's place in Philadelphia.

The intention was to show that I too was normal. I went to places and had something to tell. Part of the plan was to see America.

The plan was carried through. We spent half of the time in museums, which suited my professor's taste of being an Assyriologist. Then we hurried through the hustling New York.

I took a dozens of crap pictures and returned unenlightened, unimpressed.

The truth is, places fare so much better in imagination.

Isn't the whole idea of getting away from home, getting away from home? Why leave your home to stay in someone else's?

I do love nice hotels. There's nothing more fancier. Imagine yourself being served.

But the problem with hotels is that it's impossible to afford, especially you make a tiny fraction of what your boss makes and you really really want your kid to go to a good school.

I used to think I was the only one not taking my vacation days, but I recently saw a survey conducted by Expedia.com that said Americans fail to use 415 million days of vacation each year. Which helps explain why the average vacation in America has dwindled to just four days.

Europeans take off a month -- and that doesn't include siestas, strikes, or cigarette breaks.

Sure, Europe hasn't really produced anything of note since the Black Death, but who has time to gloat? Some people are too busy on the work trade mill, some are too busy worrying.

What's even worse than not taking vacation days is spending your working days just to think with your paycheck, you are to voluntarily forgo all your vacations.

When I came back to work everyone said the usual hellos and I replied with the usual "fine. How about you?" I learned that from my first-grade English textbooks.

I'm no social scientist, but I'm convinced there's a correlation between the decline of vacations and the rise of graphics fevers and movie crazes.

Here's my theory: Unable to take vacations, people are giving themselves miniature mind vacations.

Myself, a computer programmer, is a perfect example: Under constant threat of unproductive boredom, I now have taken on graphics design, photo editing as my hobby, after my interests in stocks, penpalling ... faded. And I have a set of movies days to celebrate. "I may not be able to go to Thailand," I say, "but after a chain of consciousness-changing movie ride, I don't really care."

Take my word for it.

The problem with vacation

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This is a mock article of Anderson Cooper's same-titled article. (http://www.cnn.com/2005/US/09/28/vacations/). His from a rich, privileged, popular person's perspective; mine a poor, underprivileged, not-at-all-popular person's perspective.

Does anyone actually take vacations anymore? Pack up the wife, and the kids, go to the Grand Canyon ...

I think so. My boss went to Yellow Stone, with kids and a troop of others. My sister-in-law went to London before Thailand.

Do you think Brad and Matt really want to be frolicking at Clooney's place on Lake Como? Do you think Al Reynolds enjoys smearing suntan lotion on Star Jones like butter on a lobster at a Jamaican resort?

Maybe. Celebrities always do 2-in-1 vacations. They never stay in one place.

As a kid I used to fantasize vacations. Grown up so old, I have had just a few, far and between.

Paris Hilton has a house in the Hamptons, Rosie O'Donnell is planning a cruise, I've got nothing.

I think only the rich ones or the irresponsible take vacations.

Technically, that's true. If you are caught in the middle, dangling a little bit above poverty line, you are on your own.

I'm convinced a big reason I stay home and work full time was the fact that I am totally responsible. Now if I leave to take a vacation, I worry Emma would not be able to go to a decent preschool.

Even if I felt comfortable taking time off, I don't do vacations very well. By the second day I'm bored. Besides I have to be really careful not spending too much.

I used to think the problem was where I was vacationing, but it's not; the problem is me.

The last time I took a vacation, I went to a ex-professor's place in Philadelphia.

The intention was to show that I too was normal. I went to places and had something to tell. Part of the plan was to see America.

The plan was carried through. We spent half of the time in museums, which suited my professor's taste of being an Assyriologist. Then we hurried through the hustling New York.

I took a dozens of crap pictures and returned unenlightened, unimpressed.

The truth is, places fare so much better in imagination.

Isn't the whole idea of getting away from home, getting away from home? Why leave your home to stay in someone else's?

I do love nice hotels. There's nothing more fancier. Imagine yourself being served.

But the problem with hotels is that it's impossible to afford, especially you make a tiny fraction of what your boss makes and you really really want your kid to go to a good school.

I used to think I was the only one not taking my vacation days, but I recently saw a survey conducted by Expedia.com that said Americans fail to use 415 million days of vacation each year. Which helps explain why the average vacation in America has dwindled to just four days.

Europeans take off a month -- and that doesn't include siestas, strikes, or cigarette breaks.

Sure, Europe hasn't really produced anything of note since the Black Death, but who has time to gloat? Some people are too busy on the work trade mill, some are too busy worrying.

What's even worse than not taking vacation days is spending your working days just to think with your paycheck, you are to voluntarily forgo all your vacations.

When I came back to work everyone said the usual hellos and I replied with the usual "fine. How about you?" I learned that from my first-grade English textbooks.

I'm no social scientist, but I'm convinced there's a correlation between the decline of vacations and the rise of graphics fevers and movie crazes.

Here's my theory: Unable to take vacations, people are giving themselves miniature mind vacations.

Myself, a computer programmer, is a perfect example: Under constant threat of unproductive boredom, I now have taken on graphics design, photo editing as my hobby, after my interests in stocks, penpalling ... faded. And I have a set of movies days to celebrate. "I may not be able to go to Thailand," I say, "but after a chain of consciousness-changing movie ride, I don't really care."

Take my word for it.

Tuesday, December 06, 2005
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December 05, 2005

Christmas Tree and Emma

**Note: When money is object, you dream up your christmas with photoshop. With a million shooting stars just for you.

Christmas Tree

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Christmas Tree and Emma

**Note: When money is object, you dream up your christmas with photoshop. With a million shooting stars just for you.

Monday, December 05, 2005
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December 02, 2005

Christmas Fantansy. Greeting Card 2

Christmas Fantasy

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Christmas Fantansy. Greeting Card 2

Friday, December 02, 2005
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Portrait. Pencil Sketch

Portrait 2 (Pencil)

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Portrait. Pencil Sketch

Friday, December 02, 2005
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Portrait (Pensil)

Portrait

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Portrait (Pensil)

Friday, December 02, 2005
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