Re-launch of the blog

My graduate research assistant Noah said I should have a blog and keep writing down all my "goofier ideas" compared to his. In order to impress all my young friends with my college stories when I am in my 30's (an threshold age of nascent authority), I should update my blog more, and, stick with it... but not try to start another new blog with a hope that I will be a more dedicated writer than I am now.

No, I have to start from where I stop.


I will try not to bombard you, if you did exist as the reader of this long-abandoned blog, with all my college student frivolous ennui and melancholy, and, phew, I think I have nothing to write if the previous part of this sentence is true! I am kidding-- pretty much trying to practice my poor humor sense, mocked harshly by my American fellow and dubbed as "the emotionless Asian ping-pong ball-sized humor."

Let's start with some story happened to me today.

This morning I struggled to wake up at 9:50 and rushed myself to the ballroom dance team fundraising dancing at the farmer's market. The donation received from our dancing performance will go to National Wildlife Federation to help saving the animals affected by the BP oil spill, which happened 47 days ago. It was a nice day out and Ann Arbor residents were generous, so we ended up collecting a handsome amount of $254 from two hours of dancing. I was fully passionate for holding the sign and howling for donation-- I was really thinking, while I was howling to the passers-by, maybe I should go for public service someday. The apple cider and donuts sold in the farmers' market were yummy-- I split a blueberry donut with Curtis, and later on on our way to his car in the garage he patted my head and told me I did a great job promoting to donation-- all these made me happy.

In the afternoon I went to dance practice by myself-- with a new goal. Basically, I have grown ennui toward knowing only 5 or 6 steps in cha cha cha after nearly two years of dancing and being partner-less (the 101 question everyone asked me is if I found a partner yet, and the frequency of the question has far surpassed my tolerance), I decided to learn some routines from YouTube clips, for the sake of fun. Today was the first day and I had my Bryan Watson cha cha cha routine and Sergey-Melinda samba routine on the laptop. Golly, it was a tough time trying to catch the steps even they were played in slow motion. However, it is just a start.

I am quite proud of myself somehow: now I can do 30 seconds of Bryan's jive routine (I practiced that with Curtis when Carey was on her vacation in Rome), 2 eight counts of his cha cha cha and some steps from Sergey's samba which were done today. Well, if Steve knew what I was doing he would probably fulminated with his perfect Scotish ironic humor, but I guess we all need some dream to pursuit, such as catching seventy shooting stars and hoping for world peace.

Later tonight, just about four hours ago, I was caught by a quaint distress and sadness as I was all alone in my apartment (Joseph called it my 'summer shaggin' palace), listening to Chopin and studying for GRE. I went out to the library because Curtis said he might go there as well, and I straddling in a stupid sleeve-less rain poncho in a tornado-warning storming weather. Tornado in Michigan summer? How random! ("Oh but it's Michigan you are talking about!" True, nothing can be too surprising.) I was alone on the second floor of UGLi in near midnight, reading Love, Pray, Eat. The heroine was totally a miserable person. I felt it really sucked to be her (yeah, that was what I really was thinking) and suddenly felt contented about my situation and I left for home at 1:30.

I allowed myself to eat, but you have to believe me that eating sugary stuff is not a good remedy at all-- it just made me feel fat and sleepy because of over-sugared. Damn those 3 granola bars and oatmeal-- wow, did I just eat all those?