eve

my neighbors upstairs are singing gleefully and dancing furiously around their candle-lit christmas tree. the ceiling vibrates. my dad and stepmom are already asleep. it's midnight their time. they arrived today from texas. i was a bit anxious about their visit-a first since my 5 years in san francisco. i fear the criticism or the fear of not meeting their expectations. i think it's important for my folks to see how i live, but it also made me nervous. i'm sure they've been curious as to how i get along, too. luckily, the day went smoothly. for one, it's the first sunny and non-rainy day since last friday. i showed them around my neighborhood bernal heights. they got a better sense of how the housing market is here (my folks have been urging me to buy). we even hiked up most of bernal hill. my poor dad's bones and joints started to ache. i think they appreciated the fact that i lived in a friendly laid-back neighborhood without the fast-paced, raucous stigma given to urban cities like SF. we ran into a neighbor from across the street (who now wants to play scrabble with me!); i knew the coffeeshop baritas; the upstairs people i rent from are super-cool. other than health warnings about living in a dank, ground-floor apartment smelling of cat urine, my parents were quite content with my place and meager posessions. of course i still had to apologize for the lack of couch and tv. i feel bad that i can't accomodate them like my sister (who owns a huge house with 3 tvs and bedrooms with doors; my room has no door). after the simple dinner i threw together, my dad actually commented on how it's not easy for a female like me to relocate to another state alone and make a decent life for herself. you seem to be doing quite well, he was saying. whew!

why do we concede to our pets?

my new cat lupita likes to share your pillow. (she also enjoys peeing and pooping on the comforter and pillows when you're out, but that's another story.) i rolled right this morning, only to have lupita's back pressed against my right eye. Apparently, she decided to stretch out of her tightly-wound ball. if i had attempted to open my eyelid, hundreds of gray fur would have stabbed my eyeball. there are 2 other pillows on the bed but the cat has to share mine. i don't mind sharing, but lupita ended up with 70% of the pillow and wouldn't budge when i pushed her a bit. oh well, i acquiesced. i'm such a sucker for furry critters, even if this one's soiled n' ruined 2 pillows and a comforter.

skin and fluids

we had a weekend of rest n' relaxation at harbin hot springs in middletown, ca (a small town some 20 minutes north of calistoga). i felt a bit nostalgic for the natural springs we frequented in taiwan as toddlers. today, geothermal activity from volcanoes formed a few million years ago still continue beneath taiwan. i chose harbin, because it's not frou-frou compared to calistoga and seems most natural. plus, a few friends spoke well of the place. the only drawback for me was the nudity factor. though they say "clothing optional" as if it was fine to go either way or as a warning: you will see naked people, going nude seems the norm at harbin. i felt rather self-conscious having bikini bottoms. cary did see a couple clothed folks in the pool area, but clad ones were the black sheep. it was to my behoof that i couldn't wear my glasses, since they stayed foggy once i was inside the water. for one, i couldnt see well the naked majority or hardly anything at all. (we soaked only after dark). secondly, it made me less self-conscious that i was topless the 1st night and totally naked the 2nd. in spite of my severe myopia i could make out shapes and could tell when there were 2 blobs nearby in intimate embrace. that revelation was further confirmed by hearing lips smacking and sensual whispering. very disgusting. there is a rule against sexual behavior in the pool. both nights there were couples making out heavily. that's my biggest gripe about the mostly pleasant & relaxing harbin experience. also, the surrounding landscape was beautiful and idyllic. the hot pool melted away my tensions. . . .temporarily
within 5 minutes of being back in my apartment all that tension jetted back in the speed of light. my new cat left me a stinky pile of poop and rings of pee on my comforter. one of the 3 pillows was also completely saturated with urine- which soaked through a thin blanket, 2 sheets and finally leaving a half-dollar sized pee ring on the mattress. i just spent $36 laundering that comforter after she peed on it over thanksgiving. now it's nearly all new bedding for me, bioenzyme odor/stain remover for ridding the pee smell, and feliway for the cat.

rita rainbow

i noticed the blog's been a bit bare. i finally edited some pix i took while in houston. here's a composite of 3, in attempts to capture a full double-arc rainbow (can't see the 2nd arc). hurricane rita was to hit in some 10 hours. luckily she barely even grazed southwest houston. we had more rain a week later from an unrelated thunderstorm.

continuing the leitmotif

ah, more on death.
we saw A Certain Kind of Death the other day. the image of a body wrapped in plastic lying atop a cold stainless steel table caught my eye instantly, and i had to pick it up the DVD. the documentary reveals what happens when someone dies alone, the process of finding the decedent's next of kin, and the fate of an unclaimed body. Once a dead body is discovered, the coroner's office takes over, and a long process ensues. the film is captivating and raw. it makes you stop and think about life's (in)significance. one of the many figures involved in the case of a deceased is the case worker who goes to the decedent's home to record assests, to look through bill/statements for trust, account info, and unpaid debts, and other clues about the decedent's life. i thought that what an most interesting job! i've always liked looking into people's homes or their rooms to see how people live, what they like. ..you get a different perspective of someone when you see how they live. if i were to die, what would the puzzle pieces in my apartment tell someone about my life? i went through my mom's bills, flipped through files after files, cleaned out her drawers and shelves similarly to what the case worker did for a stranger. what does this say about how we life, about our existence? what was the person doing when he or she died? was is painful? was it lonely?

other good documentaries we saw lately:
The Devil's Playground (chronicles Amish teenagers' lives during Rumspringa)
Dark Days (about the homeless living in NYC railway tunnels)

black hole

my ability to blog seemed to have hit an impasse. i think i'm fairly self-aware. i don't feel particularly depressed, perhaps more pensive than anything- nothing requiring counseling. my friend shana would think otherwise. she feels everyone could benefit from a few doses of therapy or counseling. surely that can't hurt. for me, the thought of just finding a therapist and making an appointment would incite an anxiety attack.
last weekend the phone rang fairly early. the first thing i thought of was my mom. i always knew she was callling on weekends because it would be before 9am. but of course that's impossible, but how i wished it was. i am wistful for our lengthy and at times, philosophical conversations. yet, some days i can't recall how her voice sounds. death is easy to define and to understand physiologically (from a pedantic facet). at the same time i will never understand death until it's me who is dying. existentially, death is blackness– a total cessation of you, your thoughts, your senses; it is nothingness. i suppose religion steps in to erase the vision of nothingness to something saccharine and immortal.