Girl Talk Goes Wild

I was on the phone with my girlfriend for the last hour. She was updating me with her dating experience with this Iran guy that she met up with after Christmas break.

This will be there second date. The meeting had its expected urgency and tension.

"Sex is great! He is good on all levels, actually he is the best among all the guys I have had since I came to the US, although he does not have the largest you-know-what."

She began to go into details that make me feel obligated to make comments like" Wow", "Really", "That is great!" and "I know what you mean, you don't have to say it".

Although I think the encounter is lacking the strong basis of long-term attraction or burning chemistry which can leads to long-term potential--I am not denying I feel a bit sour-grape for having spent the holiday primarily with non-sexual based friends, not with the man I love to be with, I had to agree all info did support that it was great sex.

From what I heard, he is very sweet and open as well, a guy with no baggage. Following conversation between her and the guy further proves my point:

The Iran guys is hairy, with dark hair. They were lying in bed in-between their multi actions.

My friend looked at his lower body covered with dark hair and said: I feel like I am sleeping with a carpet. (That sounds a mean comment to me).

But the guy was happy to hear that and obviously had a good sense of humor as well: Yes, it is top quality Persian Carpet, hand-made as well.

I laughed my tears out, although I was pretty low this holiday. That just made me laugh so hard.
To me, that is the climax of our one-hour holiday girl talk about sex, intimacy, man we love and hate, and ever desirable purity of love.

Funny and close friends are so great, especially when you feel a bit alone and is missing someone in a holiday time.

May the new year bring us more happiness, understanding, good communciation, good health, prosperity and acquisiton of lots of top tier prodcuts like Persian carpets.

Google, My Best Friend or the Potential Big Brother

I use Gmail for my major, private communications with key friends and loved ones and to receive Blog comments.

I have used it for more than a year. But only recently did I notice the power of the Ad Sense program it utilizes to put what they believe relevant content and links on the side of your sent e-mail. It seems that it scans what you talked about in your email and put some content or topics that you may find interesting and relevant.

I am a marketing professional and using data to drive our message and offer are key of our value add to clients, but Gmail or Google just made me feel what I do is like stone age.

I played with it the other day:

I sent myself an email titled "Film" with the following text in it: China, horror, japanese, smile, cloth, red. Random bits of words came to my mind. Very Asian. I am not very creatieve or imaginative. The sponsored links on the side of that email is not interesting at all, they are related with films: Decorative Window Films, Reflective Mylar Films.

I then sent myself another email that titled "Happy" with slightly change of the order of same text as above: horror red cloth for china and japan. This time I got only one link on the side: Halloween.

I don't seem to be able to tell whether it scans mainly the title or the email text.

The other day when I sent an email to my friend who was shown on TV to be chewing cookies, my simple title of "You dig right into it" and "Your chewing is sooooo....." brought me the links such as "Stop Dog bitting", "Dogs love an indoor Potty". That is about right. My friend was born in the year of Dog.

Well, it makes me relieved a little. Not bad, but they are probably not as smart as I thought they are.

What baffles me is that in one other lengthy email where I talked about my trip to Ottawa, I mentioned a blue coffee mug and attached a photo of I took in a Bistro with that mug looming in the front and many other objects. All the links I got for that email are about coffee mugs. Does the AdSense scan photo image as well and give it a priority over text?

I feel that Google must have a database of every bits of information about every thing we have ever searched for, talked about, frustrated over and talked to someone about. They have the DNA data of our life. One day they will be able to put our pieces and bits of life together and rank them as happy, successful or pathetic.

Google should start the ultimate online matching program.

I will buy their stocks if it is not above $400 per.

I will send my resume to Google the first time I got my greencard and freedom of change of employers.

Somebody said: if you can not beat them, join them.

However, the latest email I sent, actually last night, where I was crying while writing it, was titled "I Hate You For What You Have Done and Will Do" and every sentence of that email started with "I hate you". It was a very emotional email meant to express some strong feeling and fear toward something said by someone I love dearly and cherish tremendously. It was late, I worked too much and was missing him.

I got ZERO sponsored links for that e-mail. I broke the Google Adsense sensing capability by being a woman in love!

Next day I got an email from the recipient of that email saying: maybe we should not continue seeing each other, at least not in the next two weeks (which covers Christmas and New Year).

Somehow I believe the AdSense program is designed by men who are scared with overflowing of female emotions and do not know how to react but withdrawing--yes, the ultimate Big Brother.

The big brother that we love and hate.

Hate and love are interchangable words to me. That will be the one algorithm that Googl Adsense program should have learned to deal with, at least when it comes to the point of recommending anything relevant to me.

I hope you, my readers, read this story and laugh a little.

Remembering

He would have been 65 years old. Yet he remained forever young. He would have strolled in the park, we may run into him.

He will not be silent. Peace lost a wing, and we lost our voice, the purest. But we come to strawberry field, laying a rose, from time to time.

I can not even go there today, I am away.

Shall we listen to it, again, 25 years after the moment, when a gun shot broke us all, the world.

*
Took a walk down the street
Thru the heat whispered trees
I thought I could hear (hear, hear, hear)
Somebody call out my name as it started to rain

*
Love is the answer and you know that for sure
Love is a flower, you got to let it, you got to let it grow

*
Love is free, free is love
Love is living, living love
Love is needing to be loved

*
A very Merry Xmas
And a happy New Year
Let's hope it's a good one
Without any fear

*
You may say I'm a dreamer
But I'm not the only one
I hope someday you'll join us
And the world will live as one

NYR Goes to Ottawa

I am sitting in a three-star hotel with free internet access (wireless cost $9 a day), with a surprisingly good service and facility.

A weired and tiring day turned into something calm and pleasant in this northern capital, cold, snow covered and quiet northern capital--Northen Capital means where I was from, Beijing, but I am in Ottawa of Canada.

I just had a huge Mexican dinner downstairs in the hotel restaurant, while enjoying a fun article in New Yorker about creator of world's top computer Chess program. Everyone is friendly and soft speaking. It actually felt like a break--break from the expectation of great exciting holiday fun and busy year end pre holiday craze of New York city.

While typing these words, I have the tv on a French channel. I felt like listening to French, like the sounding made of swirling of tongue and the fact that I don't understand it. I have a thing for French, frechn canadian, cities, and man and, sometime not understanding what is being said is a blessing.

I agains saw an episode of Sex and the City on one channel earlier and the documentary of John Lennon. I was exposed to too much of these two subjects lately. And I like that, especially John and his songs.

Hopefully tomorrow will be an uneventful day as well and I will get what I want and I do want what I hope to get.

Re-living Sex and the City

That's the thing about Manhattan, the most exclusive clubs only have a couple members and they're very hard to find. -Carrie

"Sex with an ex can be depressing. If it's good, you don't have it anymore; if it's bad, you just had sex with an ex." -Samantha

"That's another reason I love New York. Just like that, it can go from bad to cute." -Carrie

"Fuck me badly once, shame on you. Fuck me badly twice, shame on me." -Samantha

"The only one who should have to pay for a bad relationship is the person in your next relationship." -Miranda

"Do we need distance to get close?" -Carrie

One fellow blogger whose stories and writing I immensely enjoy, wrote in his comment on my latest posting: "What is it that Lennon said, "Life is what happens when you are busy making other plans". And it is when you start living this life that you are truely alive and yourself."

Yes, it is John Lennon, Geoffrey. I was listening to this song the other day and thanks for your thoughts.

Or as Carie in Sex and the City said: life happens in New York City when you are busy waiting for tables. That is equally true.

I make plans and wait for it to happen. Life passes when I am busy waiting.

After a frustrating week at work, involving potential of me firing someone and account loss, a Thursday night birthday party at a Spa in Brooklyn that was very fun but ended with me throwing up outside my building at midnight, continued silence from you and me wondering of how have you been, I decided not to bey busy waiting for the plans you never make.

As Carie said again: there are endless things you could do in this city, a city perfect for single girls, or girls whose men are just not available for some time, want to be left alone.

Last Wednesday, as an anger outlet from work, I went to the Gym for 30 minutes and caught up with a rerun of Sex and City on TBS, an episode from the fourth season. It put me in the mood.

Friday night I opened a bottle of wine, leaving the bottle of Scotch you brought untouched, lying in my Midtown apartment in pajamars, watching my pirate DVD of Sex and the City. I picked up where I stopped of the fourth season, when it was all still so fun and bright and right to the point.

Living in the city and watching this felt totally different from when I used to watch it on the Jersey side. When Carie scream: it is far, it is New Jersey far. I laughed my socks off. I came from China, for God's sake.

So when the city was right outside my window with its millions of restaurants and bars and people drinking, dating, talking, falling in love, making love and having fun, I was watching it playing out on my Plasma tv, right in the middle of all these. Am I missing it? Or I just want to take a small emotional break from my big, crazy New York Love.

The episode when Carie needs to take bus for the first time in order to save money cracks me up. My high stressed agency work does not seems that promising financially, although seems promising to drive me mad, which could be a solution as well.

It is fun also to try to figure out which street corner were they standing, which restaurant were they sitting at, recognizing feels close. Since when I have fall in love with this place so deep, so irreversable?

I laughed when those funny and bitter comment about emotions and its twin sister-sex were made, espeically by Carie and Samantha. And I was crying so hard on the last episode when Big was leaving New York. I thought this is a comedy or maybe it is just me and you.

I missed you.

Oh shut the F up already, as Samantha would say.

And the scene that they two rode in the park bankrupted my plan of getting you out of my mind. I remembered that rainy night back in Oct when we rode in the park. Luckier than Carie and Big, we made love and none of us was leaving the city, yet.

"I alwasy wonder where do they go when these people leave New York?"

Some place where they will miss this city, I guess.

If smooth relationship scares people, our rocky one should make me feel hopeful of something real. Why I need assurance, even after you said again and again that you love me.

I loved the scene when Carie left Big on the big night to be with Miranda in Mount Senai. I love friendship like that, it must feel good to leave someone you love to support someone else you love in a different way, to feel being needed.

To love and to give in so many different ways are what make our existence meaingful. I miss you, I also miss my friends. I have too many of them being so far away from me at this moment.
The other day I got a fortune cookie that said: A man should be judged on how much he can give, instead of how much he can accept. I find that relevant. Don't know why it sounds like it is taken straight from the scipt of Sex and the City.

I remembered the month of May, you were in your cycle of close off, I was in the park, trying to reach you, with no success. I called my friend who was due in that week. She was in Mount Senai hospital, just had a baby, a week earlier. I was in lot of pain, but seeing that baby the first day she was born and being with my friend made me feel very happy and proud. They supported me, so was the city.

And I have forgotten so lo0ng all the beautiful things that a girl was entitled to love besides man (or woman): shoes and bags. When Carie made that big statement to the Vogue editor: I may not know so much about man, but I do know about shoes!" I feel as empowered and thrilled, although owning much less, much much less of 400$ designer shoes.

We live only once. We love maybe twice or a few more.

Beautifully crafted shoes and bags are just as lovely, and, arguably as fulfilling as good books that touch our heart (especially at time of difficult relationships I may add). You alwasy joke that I am materialistic like all the other Asian. To that, I say: we never owned anything for the past 50 years thanks for communism, time for becoming human again, thank you very much!

No, I am only truly materialistic with those produced from heart and soul, rare ones, priceless ones.

At the end of the night, which was 3 am in the morning, my chin hurting from laughing and my eye poping for crying, after half bottle of red wine, and I tried to push the thought of you to the edge of my mind and to hide the pain of heart at the deepest corner, I made a resolution to myself: I will redeem myself by making a plan with my other true love, the one I have ignored long enough: this great city.

I have a long list to accomplish, but immeidate choices were Van Gogh drawing in Metropolitan museum or shoe shopping in Barney's and/or anything else window shopping along Madison Ave.

The sex part is another ride for another day. Currently Van Gogh's drawing is my only plan to get intimate with a man tomorrow, tentatively, even he has been dead for hundreds of years--true love is timeless.

To say that to a dead artist means pressure for no one, let's leave it at that.