anime

It was quite an interesting experience at the anime convention at Hynes on Friday. I got dragged into helping out at one of the dealer booths, so I was selling cute stuffed anime characters and DVDs for an hour. They are ridiculously expensive, $32 bucks for a tiny bag or $20 for a wrist band, and I didn’t see anybody hesitate to pull money out of their wallet, and the entrance ticket to the convention was 25 bucks! Them rich anime-freaks. There were indeed many freakish individuals. Tons of people dressed up as anime characters, I mean it was Halloween all over again and better. They were really OBSESSED with anime, they’ve got to own everything related to their favorite anime and they want to live and breathe it. Kimonos, pink octopus, 6-ft giant plastic sword, skin painted white, and silver-dyed hair etc. Most of the time I was trying very hard not to stare. Thank god my friend’s uncle, the owner of the booth, was a very talkative person. He gave me a couple tricks about bluffing as a salesperson if you have no idea what you are selling. And he made me wear a fluffy cat hat to increase sales, chuckles. I used to be an anime fan but have gotten rid of the addiction. The good old times when I used to be in love with Slam Dunk, H2, and Sailor Moon. Whew, that seems like a light year ago.

The Da Vinci Code

Went to see The Da Vinci Code yesterday. Despite the chaotic experience of not having my phone and my fabulous friend was stuck in traffic for half an hour, I enjoyed the movie. Went in with really low expectations because I thought the book, although exquisitely suspenseful, was not very impressive linguistics wise. I was surprised it actually translated into a very good movie when the camera replaced the prose. Knowing the ending didn’t ruin the movie either, because I remembered only pieces of the convoluted plot from reading the book two years ago. Tom Hanks’ hair was a minus, but Audrey Taotou‘s cute French accent was a plus. The albino Silas was very well played by Paul Bettany (he had a less grotesque but absolutely handsome leading role in Wimbledon).

When we got outside the theatre, there was a row of nuns and priests holding signs that included, “DO NOT MOCK MY GOD”. They were all in black, a very sharp contrast against green grass and blue sky in front of the theatre. Somehow my mind had a flashback to the bloodshed of the crusade and the dark secrecy of the Vatican.

A hundred percent reason

This is ten percent luck, twenty percent skill

Fifteen percent concentrated power of will

Five percent pleasure, fifty percent pain

And a hundred percent reason to remember the name!

~Fort Minor, Rember the Name

I can foresee hard work ahead for this summer: looking out the glass windows of the 4th floor of Snell Library while everybody else would be enjoying the golden sunshine and cloudless blue sky. The current gloomy weather and unstoppable rain only added thick layers to the feeling of imprisonment. MCAT in 58 days (minus the days in Greece cuz hell I ain’t gonna study there), until then, I want to put a lot of things, drama and gossip, fracas and temptations, into a box and lock them up in the back of my mind. I found that one box didn’t fit, so I found one, two, three more boxes until I am free of distractions and can focus a hundred percent. Hopefully I will remember to come out of this phase of seclusion and apathy. I don’t want to be another one of those insensitive pre-meds. But for now, excuse my nonchalant inattention.

That guy who literarily walked from CA to NY in 13 months, he wore out 15 pairs of sneakers. He started out a divorcee, around 400lbs and severely depressed. At the end, he was still divorced, still overweight at 300lbs, and it’s no guarantee depression will go away. Is his life better in anyway? There certainly will be no miracle or metamorphosis, he still has to deal with all that inescapable crap he had at home. What’s the point?

It’s a lie to say my mom is forcing me to do this because she thinks I would be happier to just graduate and get married (chuckles to that). Also a lie to say that I am doing this because I know I can. I really don’t know if I can do it, a month and a half of self-imposed discipline. It’s untrue to say that I love taking on the challenge. Who wouldn’t like for pies to fall out of the sky? At the bottom of it, I am scared and afraid of failure. Where is the courage, the stamina, the willpower to get me through this Puritan-like summer? I guess that would be the point of it, or a reason for any difficult undertaking: to find the source of “drive”.

Moving Home

Finally moved back home again.

When I first moved to campus in 2003, I took all my photo albums, mini-stuff animals and CD collections to school. As time goes on, I found out I can live perfectly fine without looking at my prom pictures everyday. In the course of 3 years and after several move-ins and move-outs, I have thrown away a lot of things and moved most of my childhood and teenage memorabilia home. I have also accumulated new books, pictures and wardrobe. When I got home, I had so much to unpack that I had to move some of the things in my room down to the basement. I replenished my shelf: “Romeo and Juliet” and “To Kill a Mockingbird” are replaced by “The Dream of Scipio” and “The Da Vinci Code”. My high school yearbook was traded for the scrapbook from the Miami spring break. My entire “Seventeen” collection had to make way for “Cosmopolitan” and “Vogue”. I looked at my drawer and complained to my mother that its rainbow color is too childish and not fitting for an adult. She rebuffed, “you were kicking and crying for me to buy it before”.

I find my self not used to certain things at home, despite all the love I have for my parents and our home. I got burnt washing my hand, so used to the slow-to-warm faucet at school and I forgot at home “hot” means “hot”. I forgot my parents go to sleep by 11pm and wake up 7am that I get yelled at for staying up until 2am. I am going to miss my dorm room, although while I was in the dorm I missed my house tremendously. I am going to miss playing loud music in the shower, eating ice cream for dinner and most of all staying out late.

When do we start calling “home” our “parents’ house”? Normally I guess people start when they have a family of their own. Is it “unfilial”, as Chinese people call it, to want to leave “home” and be independent?