Finally...Taiwanese Food

This is only the beginning of the weirdness and deliciousness you are about to witness...

Thick Pizza = Good Pizza

Riz was appalled by the amount of mushroom and cheese.
And she doesn't go to Garvard anymore.

Then she came to her senses. Nika was delighted throughout.

I was just amazed.

Where I'll be

You definitely don't know yet, and you might not even care, but pending a passing physical exam (that left eye better man up on 23 Jan), I'll begin my trysts with the blue yonder at Edwards AFB after graduation until 20 Aug 07, and then on to Laughlin AFB for Undergraduate Pilot Training(UPT).

No Christmas for Me

I wished my friends in Taiwan "Merry Christmas" and offered a "Happy Holidays" to the bank teller today, then I realized how meaningless those words are for me. I don't remember the last time we celebrated Christmas. Must have been before 2001 when the family gave itself so completely to fundamentalism. But even before then I don't remember when we last tore open presents and cards around the Christmas tree. I don't even miss it; it just not a part of my life anymore.
So you'd think this is sad, how can an American boy live without the joys of Christmas? It's easy, really. Without the obligatory gift-giving and receiving between all my relations and me, we don't need to go through the Christmas shopping drama clogging the arteries of every mall in America tonight. For queen mum, who needs to justify to her God that she's really not celebrating the holiday, she gives people presents and random acts of kindness anytime during the year. For me, who doesn't really care what God thinks of me right now, holiday greetings, cards and phone calls are reserved for those whom I really care about.
By accepting no gifts, we are free from the bonds of reciprocation. So having no Christmas for me really isn't that bad, but I do miss the beautiful Christmas tree we used to have in Taiwan.
That was so long ago.

Clicked My Heels

I had a dream that I was still in M-Town while flying home from San Jo (got bumped up to 1^st class! Righteous), but a few things have convinced me that I’m indeed back to the good old USA:

• English and Spanish
• Pho
• Driving
• Warm chocolate chip cookies
• Not being stopped for looking Uzbek
• American soldiers
• Really clean bathrooms with seat covers and plenty of toilet paper
• Texas

It’s the little things. And the really big things.

The Parting

I left you before dawn, peacefully dreaming of things I long ago forgot how to dream, a tiny bundle rising and falling with the rhythm of being newly alive. Wild blonde waves framed your pink cheeks glowing through the pale. There is no angel more beautiful.

I left you without a last goodbye, though I’m satisfied just knowing that for the last days you did not desert me and came to me at every calling for a loving kiss. My gadgets will remain forever not yours and just out of reach for your жадные hands, but don’t worry, you’ll get your own one day. And I hope you take good care of them, too.

When the sun is turned off and the neon heats up, even this gray city is beautiful. I raced away from you, along the near empty streets on which yet another Лада waltzed on the gray slush covering this town. You are not the only one I’ll miss, but sadly, you will be the only one not to remember me.

Осторожно, Дверь Закрывается IV: Last Ride

There is no tribute fitting enough for the Moscow underground monster. I’ve developed such a love-hate, superior-fearing relationship with it that riding it home alone for the last time was as much an emotional journey as leaving the city itself. I was still watching my back for the skinhead attack that never came to be. I still grudgingly rehearsed lines and behaviors in my head at the sight of gray uniforms, but since I got my last haircut I haven’t been bothered once. The battle between to sit or not to sit for two stops on the blue line between Арбатская and Курская raged on as the aging cabins clanked along, passing dark brown tunnels overgrown with pipes laid since god knows when.

The baby twins sitting on broken columns greeted me for the last time at Римская. The marble walls and marble floors were all as they should be, but I won’t see them again for probably a very long time. How will the drunks and the homeless wild dogs sprawled out along the walls of the underground walkways spend the unforgiving winter? I don’t think I’ll ever find out.