01.31.02.

flu/uncertain/wait

(from Cambridge International Dictionary of English)

flu, formal influenza
noun [U]
an infectious illness which is like a very bad cold, but which causes a fever a flu virus
Example: She has got a flu and decided to fold up for a few days. Pardon her for her absence.

uncertain
adjective [+ wh- word]
(of a person) not knowing what to do or believe, or (of a situation) not fixed or able to be completely known
Example: She's uncertain whether she could go to wherever.

wait
verb
to allow time to go by, esp. while staying in one place without doing very much, until someone comes, until something that you are expecting happens or until you can do something
Example: She's waiting for an important letter to arrive, and she feels that something wrong is going to take place.

I got a 通緝令 this morning--Dora wanted! I dont' know I am so wanted indeed, sweetie. Hm. I am having a fluuncertainwait. I will submerge from the sea later. I will be there.

01.30.02.

Zoe問: 「但我諗.....如果小孩子無得睇童話故事......而一開始就認識真實世界既話.......又係唔係一件好事?」

我沒有肯定的答案，可能我今天在說三，明天卻做四，把迪士尼毒放進孩子的糊仔中．

有時我想，是我們說童話故事的自欺欺人．現在的孩子早熟得很，很多年紀小小已活在分居的父母中；不知他們聽到公主王子快樂生活時，會怎樣？

孩子不是玩具不是貓不是用完即棄的隱形眼鏡不是星洲抄米不是沙包不是Nasdaq不是電視節目不是日本邦民財務公司不是你的財產！！

孩子是神的禮物，受不了禮物，請別張開手．

後記:　主佑慈雲山慘案的長女葉麗幗，在一夜血腥恐怖，妹妹弟弟為父親手下的犧牲品後，仍說會原諒爸爸．自問我真的可說不出，主佑她，願主愛充滿她創傷的心．

再後記：　由衷之言－－感謝用愛去愛孩子的父母們．

Butterfly Kisses

Butterfly Kisses is a song that I like very much. Here share with you. Especially to those who want to be parents or who are parents. Kids need love.

Butterfly Kisses, by Bob Carlisle

There's two things I know for sure.
She was sent here from heaven,
and she's daddy's little girl.
As I drop to my knees by her bed at night,
she talks to Jesus, and I close my eyes.
And I thank God for all of the joy in my life,
Bit most of all, for...

Butterfly kisses after bedtime prayer.
Sticking' little white flowers all up in her hair.
"Walk beside the pony daddy, it's my first ride."
"I know the cake looks funny, daddy, but I sure tried."
Oh, with all that I've done wrong,
I must have done something right
To deserve a hug every morning,
And butterfly kisses at night.

Sweet sixteen today,
She's looking like her momma a little more every day.
One part woman, the other part girl.
To perfume and makeup, from ribbons and curls.
Trying her wings out in a great big world.
But I remember...

Butterfly kisses after bedtime prayer.
Sticking' little white flowers all up in her hair.
"You know how much I love you daddy,
But if you don't mind,
I'm only going to kiss you on the cheek this time."
With all that I've done wrong,
I must have done something right
To deserve her love every morning,
And butterfly kisses at night.

All the precious time like the wind,
the years go by precious butterfly
Spread your wings and fly

She'll change her name today.
She'll make a promise, and I'll give her away.
Standing in the bride room just staring at her,
she asked me what I'm thinking,
and I said "I'm not sure,
I just feel like I'm losing my baby girl."

Then she leaned over...and gave me...

Butterfly Kisses, with her mama there
Sticking little white flowers all up in her hair
"Walk me down the aisle daddy,
it's just about time"
"So does my wedding gown look pretty daddy?"
"Daddy don't cry"
With all that I've done wrong,
I must have done something right
To deserve her love every morning,
And butterfly kisses
I couldn't ask God for more,
man, this is what love is
I know I've gotta let her go,
but I'll always remember
Every hug in the morning, and butterfly kisses.

01.29.02.

Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs

Once upon a time, lived in a castle a beautiful princess called Snow White, and a wicked queen, the step-mother of Snow White.

Every night before bed, the queen would stand in front her magical mirror and asked, "Mirror, mirror on the wall, who's the fairest of all?"

The mirror would say, "Snow White is the fairest of all!"

Snow White liked to use SKII whitening mask, the kind with 60-or-80-day cycle. On top of that, apart from keeping a protein-diet (only meat, no starch) she's also joined in program in a Beauty Salon (纖體). She, with some decent investment on her body and face, remained the prettiest (well, there's only a handful of characters here: Snow White, Queen, Dwarfs, Prince; Snow White was bound to be the prettiest).

One day, the queen decided to get rid of Snow White. When Snow White was sleeping as soundly as a pig, the queen asked a few folks to move her into a little cottage inside the forest.

Later Prince Charming arrived. Snow White, having worked at the cottage for the seven dwarfs for a couple of years... cooking washing dishes wolfing down all left-overs (like our mums), and remember with the lack of skin-care--turned into a typical housewife with a waist so wide for Prince Charming to embrace.

Disappointed, Prince Charming left the cottage.

Snow White married one of the dwarfs, and lived a normal life.

The Ugly Duckling

Long Long time ago, a duck-mama laid a basket of eggs. After a while, little ducklings pecked at the shells of the eggs and came out. All white and pretty except one. The ugly one had grey feathers, small eyes, and was relatively short and chubby.. you name it.

Disappointed, the ugly duckling felt so being discrimated against by her fair siblings. Duck-mama, seeing this unusual creature, did not bother to heed her and left her alone.

A while later, the ugly duckling did not turn into a swan because she's just a duck. Instead, she studied a PhD and moved to Tahiti.

The Little Mermaid

Once upon a time, lived in the sea bottom a very very pretty mermaid. She enjoyed being in the sea until one day she saw Prince Charming having a party fooling around with girls in a ship.

That began her dislike of her tail. She would want to become a human being, instead of a mermaid, and be able to be with the prince.

Finally she got a medicine from the queen in the ocean kingdom. Having drunk the medicine, the little mermaid became a simple-looking girl, who could not capture a glimpse of the prince.

When she found that out, it was a bit too late. And she decided to open a little cafe next to the sea shore, right next to Sampan, a store run by the retired Chow Yun Fat. And she made some good money indeed.

Cinderella

A long time ago, Cindy lived with three wicked step-sisters and her step-mother. The daddy of Cindy was useless and he never bothered to turn up in the story. So darn mo-yong (useless). One day, news broke out saying that prince charming was looking for a wife and a party was called upon as such.

Having heard the news, the wicked sisters spent days and nights trimming up, going to gyms, visiting Cartier, Gucci, Prada, what not, flipping over fashion-magazines, of course, going to beauty salon. All the sisters became quite reasonably pretty.

Cindy, however, was forced to stay at home doing all the housework. Yet she's indeed very eager to attend the party of course.

When the night fell, the step-sisters together with their mum left, leaving Cindy alone in the house. Frustrated, Cindy cursed the universe for pushing her to her plight (Cindy swore like nobody else... can you imagine?).

Suddenly, a mouse came out and asked what she wanted. Of course, Cindy ended up dressing up prettily, jumping into a Pumpkin carriage, and managed to arrive the party before it ended.

To her surprise, only a handful of women stayed at the party. Prince Charming was so far from being charming. Seeing the horrendous appearance of the prince, Cindy fainted in an instant. Unfortunately, she was taken to the prince's chamber and even more unfortunately she married the prince because for she promised herself she would never want to be a servant in life

They became the kind of couples you saw in TV magazines... well, a rich beast holding the hand of a beauty...

After two years, she got a divorce.

P.S. A beast is a beast, and there's no spell. A beast won't turn into a handsome fellow here, sorry.

P.P.S. Cindy, though divorced, did not get much money from Prince Charming. So she began to be a "writer"--teaching girls how to make themselves pretty.

The Three Little Pigs

Once upon a time, there lived three little pigs. They all reached their thirties. They remember that their mum had once told them: "When you are thirty, you got to have a home for yourself." Pig One decided to wait for public housing because it did not cost much. Pig Two wanted to join the home-ownership scheme (unfortunately, the SAR government put the scheme on hold lately). Pig Three, the smartest among all, decided to buy a private apartment. The mum praised Pig Three among the three, saying Pig Three's the smartest because the property price had dropped a big chunk in recent years.

Finally, Pig Three managed to get himself a decent flat. He invited all pigs to have a house-warming party.

The next day, Pig Three died.

Fairy tales. Fairy tales.

When we were little, parents and teachers often tell us--don't read 亦舒, don't read this and that--for they are poisonous.

Come to think about it. Fairy-tales, the Disney's adaptations in particular, are the most poisonous among all (yet, parents and teachers read time to us from time to time).

Pretty princesses.
Prince Charming.
Happy there after.

These ideas got so ingrained into our little girls' and boys' mind.

Look around you and see how many out there still believe in Fairy tales?

Are there fairy-tales? Perhaps, there are.

Perhaps.

Smile. I "admire" those who still believe in fairy tales. Honestly, I don't have that childlike innocent mind.

I prefer to have a story of my own, poison-proof, poison-free.

01.28.02.

John 21:18 The truth is, when you were young, you were able to do as you liked and go wherever you wanted to. But when you are old, you will stretch out your hands, and others will direct you and take you where you don't want to go.

宰一隻羔羊

「當有一天你拿起菜刀為你所愛的人服務時，你便會懂得她更多．」貓同事在網上載文--「宰一隻雞」 --說的是為所愛的人宰雞煲湯的情素．

「她頓時覺得在砧板上被宰割的，是她自己．」她說．

真的，愛令人做出最摸不著邊際的事．

週日崇拜，唱詩歌，唱的是關於宰羔羊，羔羊仍是主．

信羔羊或不信羔羊的，你看下去，不看下去亦無妨，你的選擇罷了．畢竟愛的另一方是自由，自由的另一方是愛．領我到羔羊那裡去的袋鼠朋友，很起首對我說:

"Dora, Christianity is not a religion. It's all about Love and Freedom."

袋鼠一話，叫我困惑許久．後來到崇基圖書館借了「重審耶穌」一書 (看的是英文原文: Case for Christ, by Lee Strobel)．看後久久不能釋懷，本來無神論的Strobel，本來無神論的我，不得不停下默思--為什麼祂要宰掉自己?

不是天堂的美境，仍是宰羔羊背後的愛，愛背後的給人們自由選擇不理會祂的割愛--令我不得不放下頑梗．

宰羔羊是整個救恩的中心，我們知道的，不外是被鞭幾十下，被釘，死了。「重審耶穌」其中一章，是用法醫的觀點去看宰羔羊祭。以下是一些節錄羔羊祭(比電影 Hannibel 核人，不安時別找我，你的選擇罷了):

聖經記載耶穌在客西馬利園中禱告，求神取去這苦杯，並汗大血的滴在地上，原來是因為人處於一個十分緊張及大壓力之下，微絲血管被衝破至汗腺上，所以少量的血和汗一併流出。這事說明了羔羊真的很害怕，我們常以為羔羊會神蹟，祂不會痛楚。但羔羊也祭對受極大壓力。

羔羊受鞭打，受打的人背部因為在鞭上的金屬部份而硬將皮扯開，抽成絲片，因而外露出了肌肉、腱(即筋)、內臟及血肉糢糊的肉條。由於流血過多，所以極度缺水，叫血容積減少休克，困此羔羊說祂口渴，這正是身體處於這種狀態。

羔羊釘十字架時，不是釘在手心上，因為手掌是只有幾條骨，如果釘在手心，釘會從其中兩指間扯開手心，整個人也會掉下，所以釘其實是釘在手腕的兩條骨中間(原文手掌及手腕是同一字)，因為這裡結實，可以支撐體重。

這正正會壓斷尺骨神經，有試過手肘不小心碰到一個地方，好像觸電般，痛好久也不能平復呢？那正是尺骨神經。羔羊所受的你可以這樣想︰將這神經用盡…力…擠…壓…

腳也是這樣，由於手被扯脫了臼(詩篇22:14預言神脫了節)，所以不能見用手拉起自己呼吸，所以羔羊只好用腳提起自己，但這會做成腳的冗內被釘和自己的體重扯開而極度痛苦，所以每次只可吸小量空氣，直至慢慢地死去。

由於血容積減少休克，所以身體會於心附近產生叫心包滲液及在肺產生胸膜滲液的水狀液體，所以士兵刺羔羊的右肋時，流出了血和水。

如果宰的是一隻雞，一頭狗，我們或許還會噁心，感到內咎難堪。

可惜祂抵不上一隻雞，一頭狗。

至今，不能理解神在宰羔羊時的痛。

The Hippopotamus
by -- T. S. Eliot

The hippopotamus's day
Is passed in sleep; at night he hunts;
God works in a mysterious way -
The church can sleep and feed at once

I saw the 'potamus take wing
Ascending from the damp savannas,
And quiring angels round him sing
The praise of God, in loud hosannas.

Blood of the Lamb shall wash him clean
And him shall heavenly arms enfold,
Among the saints he shall be seen
Performing on a harp of gold.

He shall be washed as white as snow,
By all martyr'd virgins kist,
While the True Church remains below
Wrapt in old miasmal mist.

Doesn't today's writing seem like an animals' carnival? We have chicken, cat, lamb, duck, dog, kangaroo, and hippopotamus all fried in a big wok.

01.27.02.

Words, by Bee Gees

Smile an everlasting smile, a smile can bring you near to me.
Don't ever let me find you down, cause that would bring a tear to me.
This world has lost its glory, let's start a brand new story now, my love.
Right now, there'll be no other time and I can show you how, my love.
Talk in everlasting words, and dedicate them all to me.
And I will give you all my life, I'm here if you should call to me.
You think that I don't even mean a single word I say.
It's only words, and words are all I have, to take your heart away.

Virtual Reality

The all-time "teeth-falling" argument--Does technology facilitate or curb human relationship?

When I first decided to write a homepage, all in mind was that I wanted to write and with a place in the cyberworld, willing or unwilingly, I would have a more legitimate urge to write.

Writing could be lonely. Yes, I mean lonely.

The practice of writing is in solitude, mostly. You write by yourself, often. Without disturbance, I mean.

Solitude is different from loneliness.

Solitude is being alone without feeling lonely. That's a stage I like honestly, in life, in relationship, in my writing, most of the time. Having strangers in this BIG world running into your homepage, and taking time to read your words, vapourizes the loneliness of writing, yet the solitude remains. Solitude remains. They stand aside somewhere in the world, reading, not telling you what to write, just reading.

I cannot remember since when I began to fall for writing. Very early on I guess. Composition is the subject that I scored, oftentimes, very good marks at school. Marks don't reflect anything, sometimes; yet, they boost one's confidence and passion. A pretty lonely kid, amid lots of siblings and friends, in words, I got that liberty to say whatever.

Meeting strangers in virtual reality through my words here is, I would say, a bonus.

A bonus.

Ah Ja, a girl in Toronto, writes a page I go regulary, for a girl of her age, she does permeating some unusual contemplation of life. Being "advertised" in her page, yazi feels, in fact, thrilled. She said, "文字文字文字…鴨子的家只有文字，沒有『豪裝送車位』，但她的文子己經抵得上一切。"

Sometimes when being complimented as such, I feel a little uneasy for what people see yazi as somewhat different from what I see myself. Yet, thanks Ah Ja. Sincerely, thanks.

Fox is what we would call a truly serious person with words. The kind of person who would take days and night pondering what words to be used, what style be attempted, approach be taken. In Fox's home, you see how words were respected, taken cared of , given credits, granted liberty. Fox allows his writing to be writing themselves, not for others.

Meow's my colleague. Take It Lazy, the motto of moew's home, tells what a page it's like. Straight frankiness with pleasant cynicism is what you find in meow's writing.

Every now and then, we visit each other's "home"; no gifts have to carry. If inspirations come, thoughts arisen, you may want to leave a few words in the guest book.

And that's all it takes in this personal homepage universe.

Bizarre.

Sometimes, it takes more than just a plain visiting. For some, it takes, as well, concerns over matters you see in others' inner self, enjoyment over sharings, anxiety even over sinking sentiments of others' words, and split-second nodding of head when a thought so true being uttered in a few words.

Like many other people you meet in "reality" ("reality" is too strange a word to explain now; what's real, what's unreal, what's surreal--are indistinguishable), in "virtual reality" these people leave a footprint at times, and then they may disappear for good.

Once he wrote me and wondered amid the waves of human voices would there be someone who truly listens?

I do.

I just do.

Is "reality" more real than "virtual reality"? Could it be the other way round? Or does it matter afterall? Perhaps it really doesn't.

The other day, I was as usual strolling along campus to my office. It's an overcast morning. The sky was very Seattle winter. The day time brightness plus thick clouds made the stars in invisible. But they are there, I still believe.

It can be true; you just don't see it.

It takes the heart to see, not eyes.

I told you many times over: I wish I would have a single thing that keeps me fighting all out. I said I envy people who know early on what they want. I admire them. I dislike my being uncertained.

You know, I do have a single thing that I have been keeping for long, not giving up--my words and writing. I don't dare to dive in. Writers--are those who will be hungry to death.

Though I may never become one, this little passion will be accompanying me for good.

Hahahaha... it takes a frustrating wife / maniac-depression to produce great artists.... I don't have either. If you will, just allow this girl who loves to write to write, even she may never make a penny.

In return, I would happily accept your EXCITING date: to go to yum cha (carrying a bird-cage), buy "chicken-tail" buns, do grocery shopping, walking in park, making dinner, watching tv, and you doing what you like yourself at home, and me what I like.

Good enough.

Too nice a picture.

Reality is strange.

Technology too.

Including God.

God is strange. A BIG BIG GOD.

P.S. When the duck finds strength, it will pull itself together to link you guys all up.

01.26.02.

The Departure
by Frank Kafka

I ordered my horse to be brought from the stables. The servant did not understand my orders. So I went to the stables myself, saddled the horse, and mounted. In the distance I heard the sound of a trumpet, and I asked the servant what it meant. He knew nothing and had heard nothing. At the gate he stopped me and asked: "Where is the master going?" " I don't know," I said, "just out of here, just out of here. Out of here, nothing else, it's the only way I can reach my goal." "So you know your goal?" he asked. "Yes," I replied, "I've just told you. Out of here - that's my goal."

This story I read from Frank Kafka keeps me thinking all morning. Can the idea of getting out of a place "without" a destination be a goal? A legitimized goal. A goal, at least, curbs complainting voices. Or should we even bother to explain?

How come you are so QOO, Kafka?

P.S. (my maternal hormones surface again) Zoe, sincere support from the duck to your A-Levels. Hans, the applications are extremely tedious, yet not as fearful as we think. Things often seem more horrendous in our mind than in reality.

A little line stolen from Paolo Coelho, in The Alchemist, "When you want something, all the universe conspires in helping you to achieve it."

01.25.02.

Grocery Shopping

circumventing in a supermarket. you and i
me pick pinkish apple, you take greenish pear
you beers, me soda
me halibut, you shrimps
you chocolates, me wind-gum
me bagels you cereals me grained French roast you earl-gray you milk me yogurt you beef me chicken me cantaloupe you watermelon me pasta you pizza me cauliflower you lettuce me pete you peanut better me pumpkin you rice me you you me
me you
you me
until we run into the same aisle facing vanilla ice-cream with macadamia nuts

tongue-tied
fossilized a sec
is it you?
you are?
are you?
yes it is he
yes it is she too
really you are
yes it's me
yes it's me too
oh nice meeting you
you too
never expect to meet you here
me neither
i put you in my cart
you put me in yours
keep toddling
you and i

A Long Long-distance Call

I vow that after finishing this, I am going to wrap up my research work on Urban Governance. Afterall, it's lunch hour now.

Friday office is so uncomfortably quiet when Guimui and Meow both are not in: one's sick and the other in a workshop. This familiar solitude is in fact a little strange to me now. Even it gives me goose-pimples. He's right, "Friday ma, tomorrow is Friday." What's implying that the long distance call could go a little longer, after chatting for some 6-7 hours.

Sometimes the phone would get emotional making us both not hearing each other yet knowing the other's on the other side of the phone.

"I can hear you are a little sleepy," (that's about one in the morning HK time and nine in the morning LA time) I said.

His laugh is often very ... what should I call it.... I cannot come up with the word, but it gives me association to his face. "Yes, a little big tired," he said with a smiling face. I can't see it, but I can hear it.

"Do you want to hear bed-time stories?" I uttered.

"Sure," he replied.

He's, after my 3-year-old nephew, the second person I would tell bed-time story.

"One day, McTai told McMug a story. McTai said, 'There's a child who failed in his dictation; the next day, the child DIED!"

On the other end of the phone, I heard his laugh again. His unique laugh. After a little while, I murmured something he could not hear. As such, he asked me to repeat. I chuckled, "Nothing!"

"I really can't hear, it's true," he requested again.

"Oh, you can't hear? Too bad. I am not repeating it ..." I replied.

He, with a serious tone yet that could not cover his smile, said, "Once upon a time, a girl refused to repeat what she said; the next day she DIED!"

I laughed and laughed.

From eight to eleven, we did not leave the phone. I had a break at eleven-something because as the resident tutor of the hall, I had some periodical missions impossible -- catching snakes being one of them (snakes = illegal residents in the hall).

Arriving at the Resident 3, 8A, the warden and I rang the door bell and asked if we could go in and that a look. Someone saw a little boy in that apartment a few days ago and we suspected he's still there.

As it's a female dormitory, I was asked to check the room. It did not take Holmes' intellects to know that a kid was hiding somewhere in the room. I did not like what I was doing, to be frank. Never do I enjoy interfering with others' matter, yet there's no free accomodation in this world, aside from free lunch, I suppose.

The closet door was left ajar. A female instinct (in which most men are very afraid of) told me someone might be inside. Before walking towards the closet, I recalled various sit-coms in which an affair was discovered in the middle of the night.

The closet door was finally opened, and all I could see was clothes and a big suitcase. Beyond the suitcase sat a little boy with his eyes I could still vividly remember now. I left the room and told the warden the boy was inside.

What I am not comfortable with is not the residential rules at the dormitory. Fair enough, I would say. They know well beforehand they are not supposed to bring non-residents to stay in. What I have a problem more is that the little boy has to experience the unneccessarily fear adults bring upon. Money perhaps is a matter to the resident of the place. Yet if $40 a night in the dormitory can avoid the fear and guilty feelings the boy has to endure, it's not too expensive.

In no time after "snake-mission" was done, I ran back to the dorm and continued the ever-lasting conversation from mid-night to 2:30a.m.

He said, "Silly, you could have pretended that you couldn't find anyone." I thought for a little while. Indeed, I never thought of lying.

I am not a girl good at lying. When I lie, all my body language suggests that I am not telling the truth. Even emotions I am unable to hold. You know, don't you? I tell you always how I feel.

If you were here, I would not say so much.

Instead, I would just got tucked in.

All I Ask Of You
from The Phantom of the Opera
written by: Andrew Lloyd Webber and Charles Hart (1986)

Raoul:

No more talk
of darkness,
Forget these
wide-eyed fears.
I'm here,
nothing can harm you -
my words will
warm and calm you.

Let me be
your freedom,
let daylight
dry your tears.
I'm here
with you, beside you,
to guard you
and to guide you...

Christine:

Say you love me
every
waking moment,
turn my head
with talk of summertime...

Say you need me
with you
now and always...
Promise me that all
you say is true -
that's all I ask
of you...

Raoul:

Let me be
your shelter,
let me be your light.
You're safe:
No-one will find you -
your fears are
far behind you...

Christine:

All I want
is freedom,
a world with
no more night...
and you,
always beside me,
to hold me
and to hide me...

Raoul:

Then say you'll share with
me one
love, one lifetime...
let me lead you
from your solitude....

Say you need me
with you
here, beside you...
anywhere you go,
let me go too -
Christine,
that's all I ask
of you...
Christine:

Say you'll share with
me one
love, one lifetime...
say the word
and I will follow you...
Raul & Christine:

Share each day with
me, each
night, each morning...

Anywhere you go
let me go too...
Love me -
that's all I ask
of you...

01.24.02.

冬青

“自己的研究是迫出來的，別人問我問題，我不能回答，得一一弄清楚。弄清楚要花很多時間，我便索性再多花一些時間把它寫出來。有很多人比我做得更好，只是他們沒有我寫得那麼多、寫得那麼專而已……”

She said that in a TV program of RTHK a few months ago.

This afternoon I was at Medical Faculty Cafeteria waiting for the arms of the clock to struck two, so that I would head to the Dentist. In the same table, sat an 80-something-old lady, silver-haired, wrinkled. She wore a pair of glasses. Her hair, though very thin, was enveloping her even thinner face, with deep hollows on the cheeks. She was having her lunch with a folk--Tofu and some chopped veggies with rice. She did not look anywhere, but concentrated on her plate. I took quite some time to observe this old lady because my guts told me she's the woman I once saw in the show. Hu Shui Ying. Holly Hu.

I never feel awkward to approach strangers: young, old, man or woman.

When I looked at her even closer, with her winter thick jacket, deep-green, with her very wrinkled fingers, almost bony, with all the harshness I saw on her face, I couldn't but wondered myself over again: She looks more like a cleaner or some sorta, other than a Harvard-scholar.

I kept my peace. Is she the Holly-lover?

She's indeed. When suddenly a woman, having seen Hu sitting by herself, come and gave her a warm handshake, I was sure she's Hu, the very few strangers I would get touched out of watching a show.

When the handshake was finished, the woman went away, I began to start asking: "Excuse me, are you the scholar who studies Holly Tree?"
She, looking a bit lost, replied: "No."
I was a bit disappointed, but I knew it's she. Perhaps she could not hear me clearly, I spelt the word HOLLY letter by letter.
She smiled finally, and said: "Oh, you meant Holly!"
Though I got the wrong pronounciation of the word Holly, I got the right person.

In front of me, I suddenly felt like seeing a vacant ocean which has been through so many storms and waves, which is holding so many treasures inside, which is having passion so deep, deeper than an ocean floor. To make the conversation of two Chinese less awkward, I tuned myself to Mandarin.

When she began to talk about Holly, you could feel beams of light shining from her eyes. Oftentimes, you come across such beams with people who are enthusiastic about their life.

She spent the past 60 years studying Holly Tree, together with other many Chinese herbal plants in Harvard University. Graduated from 金陵女子學院, she went to Harvard, and became the first female graduate student from China who got full scholarship there. For the past decades, she's been working both in the States and Southern China and am now residing in Hong Kong.

"I have retired," she said with a rather low-pitched voice and accent (considering the fact that she's 93 already, her voice was indeed very strong), "but I am still working everyday." There was some sense of proud (not arrogancy) and perseverance (not stubbornness) permeating in her words.

Beside her plate sat another lunch box. With the rice and veggies on her plate half-finished, she opened the lunch box (which was another box of Tofu and veggies with Rice) and used the fork to put the rest of the unfinished lunch into the box, piling up the food further. I thought to myself, that's probably gonna be her dinner as well as breakfast later of the day.

I remember in the program she said: "I eat very little meat."

Perhaps that's why she's still so artculate and aleart, at her age.

The leftover she saved did not confirm that only, but also explained to me how she got all the children of her extended family to the States to study. Everyone who needed her financial support, Hu helped them, getting them one after another to the States. Her desolate outfit (which made me think of her more of a cleaner), her simplicity, her life strength told me what an vast ocean she really is.

According to the show, she married at 20-something to a doctor, with both then living in the States. Hu would work till early in the morning and her husband would come to fetch her home. One night, having had waited for hours in the train station, Hu felt something might have gone wrong.

Home, she found her husband dead in bed.

At 93, when she recalled that, she still shed her tears.

She left her husband's study untouched; she left her life unmarried again.

Determination. Perseverance . Sincerity. Passion.

They are elements that make me truly respect her as a scholar.

Love. Genuine love for others is what make me respect this elderly as a being.

I remember at the end of the show, Hu was asked how come she could be so strong-willed in her academic life and persistent in helping others. She was in a chapel or some sort and said: "God gives me this gift what I should excell what he's offered. It's his Gift.

Holding the lunch box, she asked for my last name, I told her with my mispronouned pinyin. She said: "See you." I did not know what to reply, but I looked, with my smile, at her hampback shadow disappearing at the corner. There's part of me wanting, strangely, to talk more with this woman. A single woman without children or any partner. Yet I think in her Holly universe and in God's Grace, she's got all she aspires to get.

冬青。她活著像棵冬青。在人生的冬季，近百之年，像比我更年青。

01.23.02.

停電--Twins

近日，談Twins成風，六歲以上的為爭論Gillian還是Sa飄亮，可弄得面紅耳赤，或反目成仇。三四十歲，更會看Twins看到流口水...

不想批評別人，年幼的我到今天，亦有自己心儀的東西。儘管對這Twins風，還戚戚稱奇。

這風亦吹我到許多年前，追溯著當年我愛玩什麼--其中一樣是停電的炎夏夜。

十歲前，我住在舊式公共屋村: 二百多尺，擠進一家八口; 洗手間在屋外; 樓高八層，沒有升降機。這是六十年代後期，或七十年代初的產物;由於早年興建的緣故，屋村電力供應到後期有所不支。

八十年代中起，鍾師奶安裝了冷氣機，強仔家安裝了冷氣機，李嫂又安裝了冷氣機; 冷氣機紛紛進駐屋村家中。無冷氣機的會羨慕，會譏誚，會詛咒有冷氣機的。有冷氣機的，關上大門，開上冷氣，懶埋別人死活。

每經過有冷氣機的鍾師奶，強仔，李嫂的家，我總在門前跓足良久，嘎嘎的笑，享受從他們門隙罅溜出一會兒的涼快。

節目高潮不在這，而是在他涼冷氣，你吹風扇，她開冰箱，我看電視的同時--全村一黑! 停電了!

停電是突如其來的中秋節: 家家戶戶在櫃檯，床底找來蠟燭，弄個蒸暑中秋。熬不過一室熱呼呼的境況，便走到屋村公園去，閒話家常，如常詛咒有冷氣機的人家。樓下士多的老板，更張快溶掉的冰淇淋送給孩子們。童昏的鴨子，好趁機點燈籠，玩蠟燭，發瘋到跑。

待電燈泡噗噗一個一個發亮，我才老大的不願意回家。

至今，工作間的冷氣機遲遲不開，畢竟吐露港的風，比冷氣，比Twins風清新多。

A story I got this morning. Share with you here.

JOHN 3:16

In the city of Chicago, one cold, dark night, a blizzard was setting in. A little boy was selling newspapers on the corner, the people were in and out of the cold. The little boy was so cold that he wasn't trying to sell many papers.

He walked up to a policeman and said, "Mister, you wouldn't happen to Know where a poor boy could find a warm place to sleep tonight would you? You see, I sleep in a box up around the corner there and down the alley and it's awful cold in there for tonight. Sure would be nice to have a warm place to stay."

The policeman looked down at the little boy and said, "You go down The street to that big white house and you knock on the door. When they Come out the door you just say John 3:16, and they will let you in." So he did. He walked up the steps and knocked on the door, and a lady answered.

He looked up and said, "John 3:16."

The lady said, "Come on in, Son." She took him in and she sat him down in a split bottom rocker in front of a great big old fireplace, and she went off. The boy sat there for a while and thought to himself: John 3:16....I don't understand it, but it sure makes a cold boy warm.

Later she came back and asked him "Are you hungry?" He said, "Well, just a little. I haven't eaten in a couple of days, and I guess I could stand a little bit of food." The lady took him in the kitchen and sat him down to a table full of wonderful food. He ate and ate until he couldn't eat any more. Then he thought to himself: John 3:16... Boy, I sure don't understand it but it sure makes a hungry boy full.

She took him upstairs to a bathroom to a huge bathtub filled with Warm water, and he sat there and soaked for a while. As he soaked, he thought to himself: John 3:16... I sure don't understand it, but it sure makes a dirty boy clean. You know, I've not had a bath, a real bath, in my whole life. The only bath I ever had was when I stood in front of that big old fire hydrant as they flushed it out.

The lady came in and got him. She took him to a room, tucked him into a big old feather bed, pulled the covers up around his neck, kissed him goodnight and turned out the lights. As he lay in the darkness and looked out the window at the snow coming down on that cold night, he thought to himself: John 3:16... I don't understand it but it sure makes a tired boy rested.

The next morning the lady came back up and took him down again to that same big table full of food. After he ate, she took him back to that same big old split bottom rocker in front of the fireplace and picked up a big old Bible. She sat down in front of him and looked into his young face.

"Do you understand John 3:16?" she asked gently. He replied, "No, Ma'am, I don't. The first time I ever heard it was last night when the policeman told me to use it." She opened the Bible to John 3:16 and began to explain to him about Jesus. Right there, in front of that big old fireplace, he gave his heart and life to Jesus. He sat there and thought: John 3:16. I don't understand it, but it sure makes a lost Boy feel safe.

You know, I have to confess I don't understand it either, how God was willing to send His Son to die for me, and how Jesus would agree to do such a thing. I don't understand the agony of the Father and every angel in heaven as they watched Jesus suffer and die. I don't understand the intense love for ME that kept Jesus on the cross till the end. I don't Understand it, but it sure does make life worth living.

John 3:16 For God so loved the world, that he gave his only begotten Son, that whosoever believeth in him should not perish, but have everlasting life.

01.22.02.

The Soul unto itself (683)
Emily Dickinson

The Soul unto itself
Is an imperial friend --
Or the most agonizing Spy --
An Enemy -- could send --

Secure against its own --
No treason it can fear --
Itself -- its Sovereign -- of itself
The Soul should stand in Awe --

with dinner finished i felt so darn heavy i want to write and write until yujia the owner of this pc comes to get me and flunk me

susan asked why i let broken words to appear several times in different formats i just told her maybe my mind was a bit messy

the soul itself like what E.Dickinson says is an imperial friend yet the most agonizing spy

kangaroo called telling me he has achieved almost all he wanted to get family kids wife house car money stable job achievements all yet he begins to wonder what next

fox wrote and said he wondered if he could achieve what he wants wondering wondering wondering if he can kick

moew continues to make dinner buy grocery and sometimes get sick

fatmouse continues to go to school and fascinates about her ex

curry continues to wait for becoming daddy

bee continues to be a nutty 3-year-old son not mine

lamb my boss continues to ask me how to download his photos to get him books to keep on the research to work to survive

yet the duck continues to write and write and write for reasons unknown for my mind could not be pulled together when my mind cannot be pulled together when my soul seems like going to all directions all i can do is to sit down and write and write uttering a silly smile

sun continues to shine

i continue to smile

continue to smile

01.21.02.

Red Path Blue Path

I look at the 6-year-old Dora. In a photo taken in P.1. marveling how much this little girl has gone through. At the age of six,I bet, she had no clue, whatsoever, where she'd be heading in life.

At the end of the school year, Little Dora came to rank third in class. I can still remember vividly what she did very stubbornly at the end-year prize-awarding ceremony in a hall rented by the school (I studied at the so-called "Rooftop School," located at the top floor of an 8-storey public housing apartment building. Such schools were popular in the 60s to 80s, and became eventually extinct in the 90s).

To understand Little Dora's smart way of doing thing, you need to take a look at the diagram.

At the great hall, she sat in the middle of the crowd, and was asked to take the blue path to get the award and return to her seat. Rehearsal was given, and she and other award-winners were lining up one my one; instead of taking blue path, Little Dora decided to take the red path, one that created by herself. Directed as she was by the teachers, she insisted choosing her little path, despite running into the risk of scolded by the teachers.

I remember this scenario very well, indeed. Partly, it was awkward enough to walk back to my seat not following the queue; partly, there were doubtful looks and cynicism casted on as if I had forgotten where to go, as if I was the silliest among all winners. Yet, I knew in my heart it's right to take the path that made better sense to me instead of circumventing the hall for a long time.

As a little girl, she has developed this strange stubbornness.

Even at 25 now sometimes when I choose to take an odd path, people will cast on, again and again, the simliar doubtful looks. More and more cynicism.

Sometimes I wonder what life would have been like had I taken the blue line to where I was "supposed" to be, instead of the red. Had I stepped on the blue, I would perhaps have got a stable decent job? Got married? Stayed my life in this little Island for good?

Little Dora did not doubt a bit, and she marched straight ahead. Big Dora walked in much less confidence.

Yet still, I stick to the red path, in most of my life journey.

Having finished one-third of the journey (supposing I live until 70-something, which I highly doubt), I begin to wonder where the red path will take me to. I really want to know. In a small hall, I wouldn't get lost. I knew seat!

In the labyrinth of this BIG BIG WORLD, I have no clue... really don't know where I am going to.

Dora in the Wonderland.

Still, I keep to the red.

幸福街

早上，看了一篇文章，叫我想了許久--到底什麼樣的街道才算是一條『真正幸福』的街呢?

第三屆帝門藝評徵文獎「生活書寫」首獎
最幸福／不幸福的一條街

◎張耀仁　

「啊，你看，幸福街！」

不意路過的人們總是帶著狐疑的眼光，訝異於這城市居然有那麼一條叫作「幸福」的街。他們錯愕著街的狹小，兩旁房子斑駁、肥胖的內衣褲隨風飄揚；紅白銀藍的各式大門內露出窺探的眼；電線桿下垃圾沈默，「慢」字在路面糊成白色的圖騰－小孩走過了，老人也走過了，只有年輕的上班族還騎乘著機車、領帶翻飛。

「這就是幸福街？」路人們紛紛嘟嚷，受騙。

然而他們並不明白，幸福未必存在華麗外表－正如同許多人想起了這條街，就想到「士林捷運站旁，緊鄰陽明戲院商圈，離B&Q特力屋旗艦店不到十分鐘車程」－還有，諸如麥當勞、大餅包小餅、誠品、加油站……生活機能一流，交通完全不成理由！

「那簡直是『幸福天堂』嘛！」有人驚嘆。

可不是麼？幸福蜷縮在城市不起眼的角落底，一旦繁華形成了，原本老舊的街道便在「熱鬧」、「快捷」等這類抽象的字眼中舒展－沒有更多更令人動容的建築意象，卻有不外乎鋼樑柱般的森寒與僵直。於是乎，幸福與不幸福被雙重併置：一方面是內裡破落、面貌猶仍歪斜難辨的小街小巷；一方面則是外在氛圍Ｅ世代、功能結構俱皆科技化的大樓與運輸－幸福與不幸福相互吞噬、辯證，同時經由不斷角力，意義消長。

「那麼，到底什麼樣的街道才算是一條『真正幸福』的街呢？」

沒有答案。幸福街上的每個人依舊忙著、笑著。他們自光亮的世界轉進自家黯淡的小巷，日復一日－而那正是台北盆地底，任何一條極為可能存在的街道：幸福／不幸福的私密交會。

另一: 在工作間，驀然，聽到他喊我的名字，像分別多年的知己突然到訪。回首，走廊空無一人，人卻不由得哽咽起來。

另二: 這幾天沒有情懷寫短文，腦海卻不住有寫故事的衝動，寫小說的衝動。用中文，寫李媽媽，寫李媽媽與李爸爸與她燒得出色的豆腐的繾綣情意。我還在等待，等待那衝動壓至氣斷之際，我便會嗔狂地寫。

01.18.02.

SOME ODES:

森林頌 (鳴謝狐狸提供靈感)

在森林和原野是多麼的消遙，
親愛的朋友呀!你在想什麼?
貓人楚在寫論文，鴨仔多拿教英文，
仲有閒適的狐狸食緊魚旦粉．

種出一棵會開花結果的大樹，
親愛的朋友呀!你在想什麼?
袋鼠朋友攪DotCom，肥鼠珊珊唔夠訓，
坐在杏林的孩子呀，您知我在想您麼?

豆腐頌

孩提時代
跟媽媽上菜市場
總看豆腐看得出神

一板嫩豆腐
老板挪開木柵
輕巧地翻起布
熱騰騰冒氣的豆腐
如剛洗澡
撲上爽身粉的嬰孩
嫩嫩的暖暖的

在豆腐上放上長間尺
尺寬就是每磚豆腐的闊度
一界二界三界
另一面
一界二界三界
十六磚豆腐
工工整整
像嫋嫋的奶膀子
曳曳著

老板!來一塊!
手起
薄薄金屬片在豆腐根柢兒一推
手起
豆腐在空中
搖搖晃晃
落在白膠袋裡
跟著李大媽的肥臀
扭扭挪挪
盪到李家的菜墩子上

麻婆豆腐
砂鍋油豆腐
千滾豆腐
百花豆腐
冷豆腐
蝦仁豆腐
拉盤香豆腐
砂鍋魚頭豆腐
豆腐夾豆沙
一口香

李大媽的孩子
比一般孩子嫩
豆腐記一大功

今天的百福豆腐
臥在長膠棺材中
蓋上抽空膠封口
動彈不得
活生生給掐死

我亦少了那份
"芙蓉"風雅

後:豆腐給掐死可不是豆腐的錯

快樂頌

我們是快樂的兒童~~
我們是快樂的兒童~~

01.17.02.

閒話家常:

a) (>﹏<) 欠交功課

晚間神學課程的班長，一邊嘆息，一邊說: 只欠你的功課(十二月二十八日前要交論文一篇)，老師說，你在一月底前做好，還可以商量．
我在傻笑，心想，小時候從不欠交功課，現在有些羞人．續問班長: 班長，如果在月底前交，除了"雙糧"(商量)以外，還會否有花紅．

b) ($_$) 教英文

朋友Irene致電問我，有興趣教Band Five學校的英文特別班．心想，這必定很刺激，乖學生常有接觸，不知Band Five情況如何，心癢癢，很想試試．反正要省錢念書，發盲賺錢也!!

P.S.以前念英國文學總算有點市場的．朋友的表哥(自以為是的美國華僑律師)有回問我念什麼，我說英國文學及人類學，他便笑說: 有什麼用呢? 噢~你可教恐龍說英文!

P.P.S. 平生認為律師及在海底隧道口收費同是叫苦連天的職業．後者還有人性可言．

c) .......\(><)/ 問神罷!

袋鼠朋友(Skippy)間中從袋鼠國致電找我，談的總離不開他三歲的小袋鼠女兒(Little Skippy)．

Conversation One: Nan-nan (nan-nan = breasts)

Little Skippy: Daddy, why is mummy's nan-nan so big?
Skippy:(smiled) Go and ask mummy.
Little Skippy: (walked away to asked mum and came back) Mummy asked me to ask you.
Skippy: Because it's proportional to the body ma. Mummy's taller so mum's nan-nans are bigger.
Little Skippy: Okay, so when I am big, my nan-nan will be bigger?
Skippy: Yes, that's right.
Little Skippy: But Daddy, you are big, but your nan-nan is small!
Skippy: (went to get a medical book, and turned to the picture with female and male bodies) See, only girl has big nan-nans, not boy ma.
Little Skippy: Why?
Skippy: Because mummy has to feed your little brother with milk ma.
Little Skippy: So when I am older, and bigger, and when I have big nan-nan, I can feed Jonathan with my milk?
Skippy: (laughed) No no. You can't.
Little Skippy: why not?
Skippy: You will know later.
Little Skippy: why can't boy have big nan-nan?
Skippy: I don't know, ask God.

------------------- Conversation Two: Pregnancy

Little Skippy: Daddy, where do I come from?
Skippy: From mummy's tummy. You and Jonathan are both from mummy's tummy.
Little Skippy: Okay, but how do I get into mummy's tummy?
Skippy: hm... that... you ask mummy....
Little Skippy: (walked away to asked mum and came back) Mummy asked me to ask you.
Skippy: (embarrassed) Because mummy slept with daddy.
Little Skippy: So my tummy will get bigger if I sleep with daddy?
Skippy: No, it won't.
Little Skippy: Why?
Skippy: Because the way daddy sleeps with mummy is different from the way daddy sleeps with little skippy ma?
Little Skippy: How different?
Skippy: (laughed) Just different.
Little Skippy: How different?
Skippy: Can you not ask too many questions?
Little Skippy: (looked confused).

A few days later, Little Skippy had her toys all over the place.
Skippy: Girl, have I told you to tidy up your toys after playing?
Little Skippy: (no response)
Skippy: Girl, why don't you put the toys back?
Little Skippy: Can you not ask too many questions?
Skippy: Oh man, kids are quick to learn in these days.

01.16.02.

Three Dreams.

Oftentimes, I sleep like a piggy, immune to dreams. Psychologists say normal human beings will have 7-8 dreams a night, each occupying about 45 minutes. Dreams that I rarely remember are usually extremely weird. Here come three quite fun.

Dream One: Shrek + Beauty & the Beast + Jurassic Park

This dream took place a few days ago. Two women, whom I never met in real life, opened the gate of lion cage, and out of it run a lion. The lion bited at my arm in no time. All I did was to pretend to be dead so that the lion wouldn't bite me so hard. At the right moment, I bited it back real hard on its neck until I killed it (the very cruel and bloody yazi). The lion, in couple of seconds, turned into a beautiful princess (oh, man, Beauty and the Beast? Shrek?). My bite ended the curse casted on a princess, I believe. Worse, the two ladies who let the lion to kill me returned, and sucked the blood of the princess like vampires.

Right after that, I was taken to a park to see baby dinosaurs, while I was still in my 21st Century outfit. Little frightened, I took a gun to shoot at the dinosaurs only to find that my gun was loaded with beans (not bullets). And the dinosaurs felt so ticklish, laughing and wiggling so interestingly (Jurassic Park, the lousy version).

Colleague meow said that this dream was a result of my habits of falling asleep in watching movies at home. As a result, I mingled up broken episodes of different Disney or Dream Factory's productions together. That's probably right: I cannot resist the calling of Chow Gong 周公, especially when I was watching movies in someone's arms.

Dream Two: End of the world.

This dream took place some time ago, and it's really fun!

Taken by a friend to the roof top of a building, I asked him: Why should you take me here?

He replied: Just be patient--we are going to see the end of the world.

In an instant, a bolt of thunder struck, and the whole sky turned into complete darkness. I could not see anything but the building I was standing in as well as my friend. He then said: LOOK! (and pointed his finger to a particular direction). At that corner, I saw world monuments come out like the miracle plant in the fairytale of Jack and the Beanstalk. Effel tower existed out of the blue. Roman-Byzantine style basilica. Mausoleums. Taj Mahal. Pyrimads. All came out one by one in the darkness. I fossilized at the spot, marveling at the wonders.

Still miss this dream.

Dream Three: Day Dreaming!

Just went to have lunch with Colleague Meow and Colleague Mouse. Meow told me about a second-hand bookstore near Hollywood Street. And you should see me jumping up and down the corridor, getting so excited about opening a second-hand bookstore.

Every once a while, yazi day-dreams.

This time I want a second-hand bookstore.

In a pre-war desolate building, with its celling about 10-feet high.

Three things exist in the bookstore: books, cats and drinks.

Every week, there would be a special function, such as musical performance by Eugene, poetry reading by Fox, sleeping competition by cats, children story reading....

Oh man, I will ask Anna to get me a suitable location for my bookstore, ask Bruno for legal advice, Teresa for deciding the coffee menu as well as dessert menu, Eugene for interior design, my brother for renovation, moew for providing cats for display, many friends for providing me with books for sales

WOW! Just this single idea in mind is enough for me to feel excited for couple of days.

Life is so beautiful when you will let yourself dive into dreamworld.

01.15.02.

他說他愛聽雨滴的聲，送他一首余光中的詩--等你，在雨中

等你，在雨中

等你，在雨中，在造虹的雨中
蟬聲沈落，蛙聲升起
一池的紅蓮如紅焰，在雨中
你來不來都一樣，竟感覺每朵蓮都像你
尤其隔著黃昏，隔著這樣的細雨
永恆，剎那，
剎那，永恆
等你，在時間之內
在時間之內，等你，
在剎那，在永恆
如果你的手在我的手裏，
此刻
如果你的清芬在我的鼻孔，
我會說，小情人
諾，這只手應該採蓮，
在吳宮
這只手應該搖一柄桂漿，
在木蘭舟中
一顆星懸在科學館的飛簷
耳墜子一般的懸著
瑞士表說都七點了　
忽然你走來步雨後的紅蓮，
翩翩，你走來
像一首小令
從一則愛情的典故裏你走來
從姜白石的詞裏，有韻地，你走來

他曾話:時間空間在愛因斯坦的理論中，是同一概念．不懂愛因斯坦的我，只覺時空皆有如出一轍的奇怪的量數．Ah Ja留言說，二人的距離可以由零走到infinity ; 余光中的時間，亦徘徊在永恆，剎那，剎那，永恆之間．

時空:玄之又玄．

後記:
早陣子，買了一套貓貓黑白明信片; 其中是一頭黑白花貓，坐在一列餐牌前，頸項給扣上鐵鍊．昨天去九龍公園游泳之際，在柯士甸道79A踫到黑白花貓，坐在"家家樂快餐店"內，看來一點都不快樂．

01.14.02.

喜宴

昨晚到金鐘赴宴，朋友濤及菁的婚宴．

離港好一陣子的我，對二十一世紀港式結婚晚宴十分陌生，自覺像板銅兒(可愛過亦年輕過劉姥姥)初進酒店婚宴，好奇之餘，有些無所適從．

感覺: 婚宴很像花式溜冰，要具備藝術及技巧．

還要許多指定動作:
--- 記念品 (多是刻有新人的名字的擺設)．
--- 對號入坐 (不是想當年"亂坐"的情況)．
--- 新人兒時，青少年時，相識到結婚等相片的PowerPoint Presentation．
--- 玩新人時間 (一級到三級不等，視乎新人及其長輩容忍程度).
--- 抽獎 (很像年終Annual Dinner; 根據司儀C說，由於港人嗜賭，以賽馬型式抽獎必受賓客歡迎)．

以上指定動作的難度可影響技巧得分; 藝術得分要視乎以下項目:
--- 新人造型．
--- 現場音響．
--- 現場燈光．
--- 現場氣氛 (觀眾反應，揮舞營光棒落力程度，有否此起彼落的安哥聲)．

希望濤及菁看了此文別生氣，唸人類學的板銅兒對新婚新文化的形成自是好奇．孩提時代，"去飲"最大的吸引力是可口可樂 (媽媽老是不買可樂，"去飲"則可飲至天翻地覆);現在不大清楚吸引力在那．

認真的, 整晚婚宴最扣人心弦，是菁哽咽地謝謝家人及濤由衷的承諾．

祝常常彼此相愛．

01.13.02.

It's been years since I last went to Hong Kong Park, and yesterday I was there, with a friend. With a Latte in hand, he said, "how comes you seem to say things so straight-forwardly and instinctly, things that I could not think of after spending so much time to ponder upon." With a Latte in hand, I replied,"Well, I have been there before and so answers come to me naturally." He said he was so sick of HK, he could not deal with people here... he wanted to go to France.

Everyone in life will have some urge to be in "somewhere else." I have had this urge from time to time, yet slowly I learn the ability of--REALLY BEING IN WHERE YOU ARE--is an important life lesson.

A Christian, I do like to read other spiritual reads apart from Christianity (Pardon me, my Father). Dalai Lama said once, "people are unhappy mainly because they desire what they don't have, and don't appreciate what they already have."

People want to be in anywhere, but the place where they are in.

People want their partner to be a little bit more caring, a bit more patient, a bit handsomer, a bit more ambitious, more easy going... instead of really loving and enjoying the partner as who s/he is.

When we are in a small house, we wanna be in a bigger house; when we are in a bigger house, we wanna be in a gigantic mansion.

Having been in Europe, people want to be in Americas; having been to Americas, they aspire to go to Africa.

People want ourselves look prettier, handsomer, taller, slimmer, smarter, more charming, whatever but how we really are.

The way to be happy, Dalai Lama said,"To desire what you are having."

Simple yet true.

To get rich is not to make more money, but to desire less.

Wants are boundless. Appreciate what you really have, and don't desire more than you need. All you need is given to you already, by God.

It's easy to say than to do. Having said that, I every now and then still want more than I should. John Steinbeck, in the opening of Travel With Charley, does show, afterall, we human beings, have incessant urge, at all times.

When I was very young and the urge to be someplace else was on me, I was assured by mature people that maturity would cure this itch. When years decribed me as mature, the remedy prescribed was middle age. In middle age, I was assured that greater age would calm my fever and now that I am fifty-eight perhaps senility will do the job. Nothing has worked.

"Nothing has worked." The older we get, the more kid-like we become. For some.

01.12.02.

Angels:

Fox said angels now only exist in Christian tales, fairly tales, and Wim Wenders' films.

I met an angel this afternoon, her name is Angela. Angela resembles an angel only because of her name. Unlike most angels who bring surprises, she brought me some headache today.

My very selective hearing aptitude as well as very stubborn character make it hard for me to appreciate advice. Instead of listening to people patiently, I turn my ears off oftentimes, whenever I can. I don't bother even to respond, but utter an hypocritical smile. Though I dislike this hypocritical self of mine, I realize sometimes speaking out of one's belief doesn't make a fuss. Slowly I learn to keep quiet.

Angels came to me once when I was six, in Primary One, the year I heard of lots of Christian tales. I learned that when I died, angels would come and get me to heaven. One evening, I dreamed of that: angels coming to pick me up to heaven. Unwilling to leave my favorite stuff toy at home, I begged the angels to give me some time to get my toy. They agreed, and I went home, only to find my mother there. It was, indeed, my mother whom I wouldn't want to leave. I cried and cried and cried until I woke up, until the pillow was soaked with tears, until I opened my eyes wide to find if mother was still there.

Angels do exist, I believe, because I have met many.

雜亂無章

1) 芒果

今早，芒果作早餐，自覺很幸福，芒果甜甜，心情爽爽．
十多年前，八月暑天的晚上，我在吃菲律賓月牙型芒果．我把半邊月牙，用刀界上方格，雙手一翻，翻出像刺蝟般的果肉．
啖啖之之際，電話聲響起，二姐接過說: 大姐的奶奶過身了．
家人全都趕快前往醫院去，唯有我獨自在家; 家中最少的我，從不可涉足於醫院或葬禮．媽媽老說，孩子不可到那些地方．
當天到今天，我對死亡的認識還很膚淺，只知死亡可以是啖食芒果之間的事．
有時想到，我第一次要到的葬禮，可能是近親，可能是雙親的葬禮，都有點不安. 自己做得老是不足，與他們付出的相比，更形不足．希望他們早日認識主．

2)頭等

十分Cheap Charlie 的自己，生活可算很簡樸; 但為了書，我從不介意花費; 為了看書，我會選擇坐九廣鐵路的頭等．
今早坐火車上班，為了The Remains of the Day (by Ishiguro) 我走到頭等車卡去．因為火車的終點是大埔墟，而不是羅湖，故頭等車卡空無一人．我的魂，很快便跌進書中的Salisbury．
火車走到火炭站，我驀然發現，身邊一直坐著一女子，樣貌娟秀．我再望望車箱，仍是空空的，不明白那女子為何會坐在我身邊．人們上巴士，火車，或小巴，總愛找個空位子，最好身邊是沒有人的．然而女子與我，在空空的車箱中，坐在一起，仿如認識的朋友．
火炭站到大學，不過是兩三分鐘時間，我放下書，打量那女子，不為什麼，自是好奇．
短短的車程中，她目不轉睛，眼睜睜看著空白的空間．
我還在想著，她心裡一定有很多東西，才可擠出這般無望的眼眸．

01.11.02.

孤島

作詞：陳綺貞作曲：陳綺貞

你說的每句話都像是一幅畫
我要把它看個仔細
我要把它想得透徹

看不清你的心是一片水藍的盡頭
我要撥開層層烏雲
張開在黑暗中的眼睛

我從你的話語之間才明白你和我之間
不需要語言
不需要一字一句 ,

字與字的連結是你情感的流洩
即使是無聲的停頓
也是最完美的表情

走不近你的心是一座孤獨的島嶼
放棄了乘著風浪
不漂流在你的四方

我從你的話語之間才瞭解你和我之間
失去了語言
失去了一字一句的空間

Not only ocean do I like, I enjoy also being in remote islands. Between the eastern tip of Hong Kong Island as well as the Lee Yau Mun lies an island called Tung Lung Island. Isolated, the island does not get disturbed like Lamma Island or Cheung Chau. There's not much to see, yet you could be laying down on the verdant with your love, in early hours, overlooking the stars hovering over your eyelids, cuddling each other in the wintery night.

Once I asked him why stars will shine, and he gave me the answer last night. Hans Bethe, the Nobel winner in Physics in 1976.

Yet, the anecdote of Bethe was far more appealing that his theory, to this silly girl. He said,"You know how the guy found that out?" I did not utter a thing, just listenging to him. He continued: "One time, he was with his girlfriend at a beach, overlooking the sky. While the chatterbox next to him blahing blahing, the physcist shutted his ears by concentrating on the stars. There he began to wonder why stars shine. And later got a Nobel Prize out of that curiosity ."

I chuckled. Afterall, there's something good about having a noisy and chatty partner.

Being with you, I learn, silence sometimes mean more than words. The silent stars speak more than the shout of seagulls.

我從你的話語之間才明白你和我之間
不需要語言
不需要一字一句

P.S.: Ah Ja wrote: 一張床兩個身體中間，好像隔了幾個世界…

I think this is the worst kind of human loneliness. Being together in person with heart miles or zillion miles apart.

Distance is a strange concept. I wonder if it can ever be measured.

01.10.02

After tossing and turning in bed for a few times last night, I decided to get up and write a poem.

攝

破曉
當天藍得很加州
想著

深宵
滾滾的尼羅河流
想著

陰霾
霏霏倫敦
想著

明媚
西伯利亞式刮風
想著

總在不知不覺中
幽幽的攝去人的靈

The course on Comtemprorary Spirituality was great. The articulate instructor gave a birdview picture of the development of Christian Spirituality in the past 2000 years. If one day I would ever study Theology at all, I may do a research combining literature and theology, namely doing a research on Spirituality of Orthodoxy as protrayed in Russian novels, esp. Doestoevsky's works. Oh man, I have weird research ideas always, in whatever disciplines. But I think this research topic could be real fun, reading novels and diving into the spirtual aspirations of Russian writers.

01.09.02.

maggie and milly and molly and may, by
E. E. Cummings

maggie and milly and molly and may
went down to the beach(to play one day)

and maggie discovered a shell that sang
so sweetly she couldn't remember her troubles,and

milly befriended a stranded star
whose rays five languid fingers were;

and molly was chased by a horrible thing
which raced sideways while blowing bubbles:and

may came home with a smooth round stone
as small as a world and as large as alone.

For whatever we lose(like a you or a me)
it's always ourselves we find in the sea

What a neat poem: "For whatever we lose (like a you or a me) it's always ourselves we find in the sea."

I love poems with the images of ocean. T.S. Eliot's Prufrock could hear the mermaid sing, yet he believes it's not for him. In life, I guess we aspire to have a mermaid singing for us, a merman singing for myself?(I having been reading a book on the evolution of human sexuality and have learned that apart from mermaids, there are mermen as well.)

"I finally came to find the fineline between loving and controlling," he once said. Not sure if I could manage to find the line. By trails and errors, eventually I will get there I hope, although oftentimes I do enjoy stepping in the grey area.

The sun is high in the sky, not a bad day. I have many things in mind. He's one of them, colonizing my psyche from time to time. A revolution will be called upon one day. Down the colonizer!

01.08.02

Every now and then, I like to visit my old "friends" in the lotus pond, at CC College here at CU.

I never figure out how many of them there in total: sometimes I meet a dozen, and sometimes a handful. This afternoon, I met four. They were gigantic in terms of the size of ducks. I guess the very laid-back life at CU has spoiled them, just like the way this school has spoiled me. Put weight on yazi and other yazi"s"(literary ducks in Mandarin)

Some few months ago, I had a romantic encounter with them (for them, it's more nightmarish). After strolling and shopping around in my favorite CC library, and having checked out a book on Latin American poems, I couldn't wait for a second to begin reading the book. With my eyes fixated at the poems, I walked around the pond, as usual. It's until some point I felt a gust of strong wind at my feet did I begin to talk a look at the path that I was in. A poor duck, with his web being stepped by my foot, was flapping his wings violently to ask me to get lost, of course. Shocked, I jumped away in no time. Furious, the school of ducks walked way swiftly, and obviously they did not want to have anything to do with this silly girl. To show my sincere apology, I visited them once a while, with some bread I got from Maxim's. Yet, ducks (those at CU) were smart animals and couldn't be bribed easily.

My Fox friend said that I'm sweet and that's why ducks got jealous of me. I think indeed I am jealous of them. They live a life without worries, and their daily living begins and ends with eating, drinking, swimming, taking sunbath, eating, drinking, swimming, taking sunbath. If they liked, they could even walk across the street and get to CC library, checking out the books on Neruda, E.E. Cummings, about Christ, about Buddha, about whatever. What a life.

01.06.02.

Luke:15. Jesus continued: "There was a man who had two sons. 12 The younger one said to his father, `Father, give me my share of the estate.' So he divided his property between them. 13 "Not long after that, the younger son got together all he had, set off for a distant country and there squandered his wealth in wild living. 14 After he had spent everything, there was a severe famine in that whole country, and he began to be in need. 15 So he went and hired himself out to a citizen of that country, who sent him to his fields to feed pigs. 16 He longed to fill his stomach with the pods that the pigs were eating, but no one gave him anything. 17 "When he came to his senses, he said, `How many of my father's hired men have food to spare, and here I am starving to death! 18 I will set out and go back to my father and say to him: Father, I have sinned against heaven and against you. 19 I am no longer worthy to be called your son; make me like one of your hired men.' 20 So he got up and went to his father. "But while he was still a long way off, his father saw him and was filled with compassion for him; he ran to his son, threw his arms around him and kissed him. 21 "The son said to him, `Father, I have sinned against heaven and against you. I am no longer worthy to be called your son.[2] ' 22 "But the father said to his servants, `Quick! Bring the best robe and put it on him. Put a ring on his finger and sandals on his feet. 23 Bring the fattened calf and kill it. Let's have a feast and celebrate. 24 For this son of mine was dead and is alive again; he was lost and is found.' So they began to celebrate. 25 "Meanwhile, the older son was in the field. When he came near the house, he heard music and dancing. 26 So he called one of the servants and asked him what was going on. 27 `Your brother has come,' he replied, `and your father has killed the fattened calf because he has him back safe and sound.' 28 "The older brother became angry and refused to go in. So his father went out and pleaded with him. 29 But he answered his father, `Look! All these years I've been slaving for you and never disobeyed your orders. Yet you never gave me even a young goat so I could celebrate with my friends. 30 But when this son of yours who has squandered your property with prostitutes comes home, you kill the fattened calf for him!' 31 "`My son,' the father said, `you are always with me, and everything I have is yours. 32 But we had to celebrate and be glad, because this brother of yours was dead and is alive again; he was lost and is found.'"

01.04.02

一洋之隔，他的生日，如常，我們談了許多小時．

我: 喂~找誰?
他: Dora
我: 誰找她？
他: 告訴她，一個很喜歡她的人找她(他在笑）
我: 她睡著了．（Dora手執電話筒，在笑)
他: 把電話筒放在她耳旁便好了，謝謝．

他總是那麼樣，愛那無聲的感覺．唸物理的他曾問，有時，真的弄不清我們之間有多遠多近；會文學，不會數學的我說，我們之間的距離是零．
是零．
你從來，就在心裡，從沒離開咫尺．
或許，這就是Helen Heller所說：

"The best and most beautiful things in the world cannot be seen or even touched. They must be felt."

後記：　清晨，看到朋友祖兒的電郵．知道人在忙亂的生活中，才慢慢發覺發盲追蹤的無奈，回首，企盼不過是愛．希望彭Sir早日康復，找到生命的主宰．希望祖兒尋到那珍惜自己的人．

01.03.02.

Conversations between my three-year-old nephew me, his silly auntie.

Conversation One. At Toy "R" Us. A few days ago.
Me: What do you want, kid?
Bee: I want many many many toys!
Me: Okay, how many?
Bee: TEN!
Me: Nope, I said one only, didn't I?
Bee: Why one? (grumpy look)
Me: Gui Jei only has money for one ma.
Bee: Okay, you have "one" money, right? (the three-year-old has no clear concept on money yet). One money for one toy, right?
Me: yeah, that's right. One money.
After awhile, he picked his toy, and we foot the bill. The conversation continued on the bus ride home.
Bee: Gui Jei (auntie), do you still have money?
Me: Of course I do.
Bee: (eyes wide open) But you said you have ONE money only.
Me: hm... I mean if I work I will still have more money. (oh man, can't lie to kids in these days. They are just too smart cookie)
Bee: Okay, so you should work hard and make a lot of money la!
Me: What for?
Bee: For buying more toys with me.
Me: (we need more people like Bee in this economic doldrum).

-----------------

Conversation Two. On phone.
Me: 喂喂~~
Bee: 喂喂, 你係邊果?
Me: 唔~~我係怪獸!你係邊果??
Bee: 嘩~~我係咸旦超人!
Me: 唔該咸旦超人媽咪聽電話.

------------------

Conversation Three. On phone.
Me: 喂喂~~<
Bee: 喂喂, 你係邊果?
Me: 唔~~我係高老師 (高老師是姪仔的老師)?
Bee: 媽咪!媽咪!高老師打電話黎!
Bee媽咪(在遠處):乜話?!
Bee: 高老師!!高老師!!
Me: (在忍笑)

--------------------

I came across this poem , after lunch, at Swinton on campus. Simplicity is always the best. Today is his birthday. He likes fog sometimes, and so put it here as a little gift.

Fog-by Carl Sandburg

The fog comes
on little cat feet.

It sits looking
over harbor and city
on silent haunches
and then moves on.

P.S. Winnie, Susan, Hans, Flora, Dave, Bruno, Teresa, Meow... and more... thanks for support for my little interview this morning, be it tips on outfit, prayers, emails, and words. God's too good to me, always send me angels on the course.

01.01.02.

2002, finally, has come!

The New Year Eve was spent in the most tranquil way. No party. No drinks. No dance. No fireworks. No crowds. No countdown. No jumbling with holiday makers. No cheers. No shouts. No sweats. But a never-long-enough long distance call plus a few works--"Happy New Years"--exchanged from both sides of the Pacific.

2001 has passed absurdly.

2002, like many years before, started with lots of unknowns that make me so excited. May God bless you all in upcoming days, months, and years!

12.31.01.

年終

總有很多記憶在整理著

感謝主

謝謝起起落落愛愛恨恨哭

哭笑笑聚聚散散生生死死

12.30.01.

Sunday worship.

God is cute, I often think. Sometimes, I think God's like someone who lets me cheat in dictation. He keeps giving hints to tell me how to walk my life. Daddy, you know, you are so darn obvious in your work on me. I can't help smiling and marveling at you.

In a week, I came across the book of Ecclesiastes, similar verses, over and over again in different occasions. You are so cute.

11:1 [hb5] 當將你的糧食撒在水面、因為日久必能得著。 [kjv] Cast thy bread upon the waters: for thou shalt find it after many days. [bbe] Put out your bread on the face of the waters; for after a long time it will come back to you again.

11:2 [hb5] 你要分給七人、或分給八人、因為你不知道將來有甚麼災禍臨到地上。 [kjv] Give a portion to seven, and also to eight; for thou knowest not what evil shall be upon the earth. [bbe] Give a part to seven or even to eight, because you have no knowledge of the evil which will be on the earth.

11:3 [hb5] 雲若滿了雨、就必傾倒在地上．樹若向南倒、或向北倒、樹倒在何處、就存在何處。 [kjv] If the clouds be full of rain, they empty themselves upon the earth: and if the tree fall toward the south, or toward the north, in the place where the tree falleth, there it shall be. [bbe] If the clouds are full of rain, they send it down on the earth; and if a tree comes down to the south, or the north, in whatever place it comes down, there it will be.

11:4 [hb5] 看風的必不撒種．望雲的必不收割。 [kjv] He that observeth the wind shall not sow; and he that regardeth the clouds shall not reap. [bbe] He who is watching the wind will not get the seed planted, and he who is looking at the clouds will not get in the grain.

11:5 [hb5] 風從何道來、骨頭在懷孕婦人的胎中如何長成、你尚且不得知道、這樣、行萬事之　神的作為、你更不得知道。 [kjv] As thou knowest not what is the way of the spirit, nor how the bones do grow in the womb of her that is with child: even so thou knowest not the works of God who maketh all. [bbe] As you have no knowledge of the way of the wind, or of the growth of the bones in the body of her who is with child, even so you have no knowledge of the works of God who has made all.

11:6 [hb5] 早晨要撒你的種、晚上也不要歇你的手、因為你不知道那一樣發旺、或是早撒的、或是晚撒的、或是兩樣都好。 [kjv] In the morning sow thy seed, and in the evening withhold not thine hand: for thou knowest not whether shall prosper, either this or that, or whether they both shall be alike good. [bbe] In the morning put your seed into the earth, and till the evening let not your hand be at rest; because you are not certain which will do well, this or that--or if the two will be equally good.

11:7 光本是佳美的、眼見日光也是可悅的。 Truly the light is sweet, and a pleasant thing it is for the eyes to behold the sun: Truly the light is sweet, and it is good for the eyes to see the sun.

11:8 人活多年、就當快樂多年．然而也當想到黑暗的日子、因為這日子必多、所要來的都是虛空。 But if a man live many years, and rejoice in them all; yet let him remember the days of darkness; for they shall be many. All that cometh is vanity. But even if a man's life is long and he has joy in all his years, let him keep in mind the dark days, because they will be great in number. Whatever may come is to no purpose.

11:9 少年人哪、你在幼年時當快樂．在幼年的日子、使你的心歡暢、行你心所願行的、看你眼所愛看的、卻要知道、為這一切的事、　神必審問你。 Rejoice, O young man, in thy youth; and let thy heart cheer thee in the days of thy youth, and walk in the ways of thine heart, and in the sight of thine eyes: but know thou, that for all these things God will bring thee into judgment. Have joy, O young man, while you are young; and let your heart be glad in the days of your strength, and go in the ways of your heart, and in the desire of your eyes; but be certain that for all these things God will be your judge.

Ecclesiastes is the book I like the most in the OT. Many, whenever think of this book, will pop up with the word--meaningless. Is life meaningless afterall? Why does pain befalls? What do money, fame, love, knowledge all mean to us? Afterall?

Thanks God for showing me what's the most important in life.
Nothing means anything if we lose sight of Him.
P.S. My friend, Hans, may God's love embrace you.

01.31.02.
flu/uncertain/wait
(from Cambridge International Dictionary of English)
flu, formal influenza
noun [U]
an infectious illness which is like a very bad cold, but which causes a fever a flu virus
Example: She has got a flu and decided to fold up for a few days. Pardon her for her absence.
uncertain
adjective [+ wh- word]
(of a person) not knowing what to do or believe, or (of a situation) not fixed or able to be completely known
Example: She's uncertain whether she could go to wherever.
wait
verb
to allow time to go by, esp. while staying in one place without doing very much, until someone comes, until something that you are expecting happens or until you can do something
Example: She's waiting for an important letter to arrive, and she feels that something wrong is going to take place.
I got a 通緝令 this morning--Dora wanted! I dont' know I am so wanted indeed, sweetie. Hm. I am having a fluuncertainwait. I will submerge from the sea later. I will be there.
01.30.02.
Zoe問: 「但我諗.....如果小孩子無得睇童話故事......而一開始就認識真實世界既話.......又係唔係一件好事?」
我沒有肯定的答案，可能我今天在說三，明天卻做四，把迪士尼毒放進孩子的糊仔中．
有時我想，是我們說童話故事的自欺欺人．現在的孩子早熟得很，很多年紀小小已活在分居的父母中；不知他們聽到公主王子快樂生活時，會怎樣？
孩子不是玩具不是貓不是用完即棄的隱形眼鏡不是星洲抄米不是沙包不是Nasdaq不是電視節目不是日本邦民財務公司不是你的財產！！
孩子是神的禮物，受不了禮物，請別張開手．
後記:　主佑慈雲山慘案的長女葉麗幗，在一夜血腥恐怖，妹妹弟弟為父親手下的犧牲品後，仍說會原諒爸爸．自問我真的可說不出，主佑她，願主愛充滿她創傷的心．
再後記：　由衷之言－－感謝用愛去愛孩子的父母們．
Butterfly Kisses
Butterfly Kisses is a song that I like very much. Here share with you. Especially to those who want to be parents or who are parents. Kids need love.
Butterfly Kisses, by Bob Carlisle
There's two things I know for sure.
She was sent here from heaven,
and she's daddy's little girl.
As I drop to my knees by her bed at night,
she talks to Jesus, and I close my eyes.
And I thank God for all of the joy in my life,
Bit most of all, for...
Butterfly kisses after bedtime prayer.
Sticking' little white flowers all up in her hair.
"Walk beside the pony daddy, it's my first ride."
"I know the cake looks funny, daddy, but I sure tried."
Oh, with all that I've done wrong,
I must have done something right
To deserve a hug every morning,
And butterfly kisses at night.
Sweet sixteen today,
She's looking like her momma a little more every day.
One part woman, the other part girl.
To perfume and makeup, from ribbons and curls.
Trying her wings out in a great big world.
But I remember...
Butterfly kisses after bedtime prayer.
Sticking' little white flowers all up in her hair.
"You know how much I love you daddy,
But if you don't mind,
I'm only going to kiss you on the cheek this time."
With all that I've done wrong,
I must have done something right
To deserve her love every morning,
And butterfly kisses at night.
All the precious time like the wind,
the years go by precious butterfly
Spread your wings and fly
She'll change her name today.
She'll make a promise, and I'll give her away.
Standing in the bride room just staring at her,
she asked me what I'm thinking,
and I said "I'm not sure,
I just feel like I'm losing my baby girl."
Then she leaned over...and gave me...
Butterfly Kisses, with her mama there
Sticking little white flowers all up in her hair
"Walk me down the aisle daddy,
it's just about time"
"So does my wedding gown look pretty daddy?"
"Daddy don't cry"
With all that I've done wrong,
I must have done something right
To deserve her love every morning,
And butterfly kisses
I couldn't ask God for more,
man, this is what love is
I know I've gotta let her go,
but I'll always remember
Every hug in the morning, and butterfly kisses.
01.29.02.
Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs
Once upon a time, lived in a castle a beautiful princess called Snow White, and a wicked queen, the step-mother of Snow White.
Every night before bed, the queen would stand in front her magical mirror and asked, "Mirror, mirror on the wall, who's the fairest of all?"
The mirror would say, "Snow White is the fairest of all!"
Snow White liked to use SKII whitening mask, the kind with 60-or-80-day cycle. On top of that, apart from keeping a protein-diet (only meat, no starch) she's also joined in program in a Beauty Salon (纖體). She, with some decent investment on her body and face, remained the prettiest (well, there's only a handful of characters here: Snow White, Queen, Dwarfs, Prince; Snow White was bound to be the prettiest).
One day, the queen decided to get rid of Snow White. When Snow White was sleeping as soundly as a pig, the queen asked a few folks to move her into a little cottage inside the forest.
Later Prince Charming arrived. Snow White, having worked at the cottage for the seven dwarfs for a couple of years... cooking washing dishes wolfing down all left-overs (like our mums), and remember with the lack of skin-care--turned into a typical housewife with a waist so wide for Prince Charming to embrace.
Disappointed, Prince Charming left the cottage.
Snow White married one of the dwarfs, and lived a normal life.
The Ugly Duckling
Long Long time ago, a duck-mama laid a basket of eggs. After a while, little ducklings pecked at the shells of the eggs and came out. All white and pretty except one. The ugly one had grey feathers, small eyes, and was relatively short and chubby.. you name it.
Disappointed, the ugly duckling felt so being discrimated against by her fair siblings. Duck-mama, seeing this unusual creature, did not bother to heed her and left her alone.
A while later, the ugly duckling did not turn into a swan because she's just a duck. Instead, she studied a PhD and moved to Tahiti.

The Little Mermaid
Once upon a time, lived in the sea bottom a very very pretty mermaid. She enjoyed being in the sea until one day she saw Prince Charming having a party fooling around with girls in a ship.
That began her dislike of her tail. She would want to become a human being, instead of a mermaid, and be able to be with the prince.
Finally she got a medicine from the queen in the ocean kingdom. Having drunk the medicine, the little mermaid became a simple-looking girl, who could not capture a glimpse of the prince.
When she found that out, it was a bit too late. And she decided to open a little cafe next to the sea shore, right next to Sampan, a store run by the retired Chow Yun Fat. And she made some good money indeed.
Cinderella

A long time ago, Cindy lived with three wicked step-sisters and her step-mother. The daddy of Cindy was useless and he never bothered to turn up in the story. So darn mo-yong (useless). One day, news broke out saying that prince charming was looking for a wife and a party was called upon as such.
Having heard the news, the wicked sisters spent days and nights trimming up, going to gyms, visiting Cartier, Gucci, Prada, what not, flipping over fashion-magazines, of course, going to beauty salon. All the sisters became quite reasonably pretty.
Cindy, however, was forced to stay at home doing all the housework. Yet she's indeed very eager to attend the party of course.
When the night fell, the step-sisters together with their mum left, leaving Cindy alone in the house. Frustrated, Cindy cursed the universe for pushing her to her plight (Cindy swore like nobody else... can you imagine?).
Suddenly, a mouse came out and asked what she wanted. Of course, Cindy ended up dressing up prettily, jumping into a Pumpkin carriage, and managed to arrive the party before it ended.
To her surprise, only a handful of women stayed at the party. Prince Charming was so far from being charming. Seeing the horrendous appearance of the prince, Cindy fainted in an instant. Unfortunately, she was taken to the prince's chamber and even more unfortunately she married the prince because for she promised herself she would never want to be a servant in life
They became the kind of couples you saw in TV magazines... well, a rich beast holding the hand of a beauty...
After two years, she got a divorce.
P.S. A beast is a beast, and there's no spell. A beast won't turn into a handsome fellow here, sorry.
P.P.S. Cindy, though divorced, did not get much money from Prince Charming. So she began to be a "writer"--teaching girls how to make themselves pretty.

The Three Little Pigs
Once upon a time, there lived three little pigs. They all reached their thirties. They remember that their mum had once told them: "When you are thirty, you got to have a home for yourself." Pig One decided to wait for public housing because it did not cost much. Pig Two wanted to join the home-ownership scheme (unfortunately, the SAR government put the scheme on hold lately). Pig Three, the smartest among all, decided to buy a private apartment. The mum praised Pig Three among the three, saying Pig Three's the smartest because the property price had dropped a big chunk in recent years.
Finally, Pig Three managed to get himself a decent flat. He invited all pigs to have a house-warming party.
The next day, Pig Three died.
Fairy tales. Fairy tales.
When we were little, parents and teachers often tell us--don't read 亦舒, don't read this and that--for they are poisonous.
Come to think about it. Fairy-tales, the Disney's adaptations in particular, are the most poisonous among all (yet, parents and teachers read time to us from time to time).
Pretty princesses.
Prince Charming.
Happy there after.
These ideas got so ingrained into our little girls' and boys' mind.
Look around you and see how many out there still believe in Fairy tales?

Are there fairy-tales? Perhaps, there are.
Perhaps.
Smile. I "admire" those who still believe in fairy tales. Honestly, I don't have that childlike innocent mind.
I prefer to have a story of my own, poison-proof, poison-free.

01.28.02.

John 21:18 The truth is, when you were young, you were able to do as you liked and go wherever you wanted to. But when you are old, you will stretch out your hands, and others will direct you and take you where you don't want to go.
宰一隻羔羊
「當有一天你拿起菜刀為你所愛的人服務時，你便會懂得她更多．」貓同事在網上載文--「宰一隻雞」 --說的是為所愛的人宰雞煲湯的情素．
「她頓時覺得在砧板上被宰割的，是她自己．」她說．
真的，愛令人做出最摸不著邊際的事．
週日崇拜，唱詩歌，唱的是關於宰羔羊，羔羊仍是主．
信羔羊或不信羔羊的，你看下去，不看下去亦無妨，你的選擇罷了．畢竟愛的另一方是自由，自由的另一方是愛．領我到羔羊那裡去的袋鼠朋友，很起首對我說:
"Dora, Christianity is not a religion. It's all about Love and Freedom."
袋鼠一話，叫我困惑許久．後來到崇基圖書館借了「重審耶穌」一書 (看的是英文原文: Case for Christ, by Lee Strobel)．看後久久不能釋懷，本來無神論的Strobel，本來無神論的我，不得不停下默思--為什麼祂要宰掉自己?
不是天堂的美境，仍是宰羔羊背後的愛，愛背後的給人們自由選擇不理會祂的割愛--令我不得不放下頑梗．
宰羔羊是整個救恩的中心，我們知道的，不外是被鞭幾十下，被釘，死了。「重審耶穌」其中一章，是用法醫的觀點去看宰羔羊祭。以下是一些節錄羔羊祭(比電影 Hannibel 核人，不安時別找我，你的選擇罷了):
聖經記載耶穌在客西馬利園中禱告，求神取去這苦杯，並汗大血的滴在地上，原來是因為人處於一個十分緊張及大壓力之下，微絲血管被衝破至汗腺上，所以少量的血和汗一併流出。這事說明了羔羊真的很害怕，我們常以為羔羊會神蹟，祂不會痛楚。但羔羊也祭對受極大壓力。
羔羊受鞭打，受打的人背部因為在鞭上的金屬部份而硬將皮扯開，抽成絲片，因而外露出了肌肉、腱(即筋)、內臟及血肉糢糊的肉條。由於流血過多，所以極度缺水，叫血容積減少休克，困此羔羊說祂口渴，這正是身體處於這種狀態。
羔羊釘十字架時，不是釘在手心上，因為手掌是只有幾條骨，如果釘在手心，釘會從其中兩指間扯開手心，整個人也會掉下，所以釘其實是釘在手腕的兩條骨中間(原文手掌及手腕是同一字)，因為這裡結實，可以支撐體重。
這正正會壓斷尺骨神經，有試過手肘不小心碰到一個地方，好像觸電般，痛好久也不能平復呢？那正是尺骨神經。羔羊所受的你可以這樣想︰將這神經用盡…力…擠…壓…
腳也是這樣，由於手被扯脫了臼(詩篇22:14預言神脫了節)，所以不能見用手拉起自己呼吸，所以羔羊只好用腳提起自己，但這會做成腳的冗內被釘和自己的體重扯開而極度痛苦，所以每次只可吸小量空氣，直至慢慢地死去。
由於血容積減少休克，所以身體會於心附近產生叫心包滲液及在肺產生胸膜滲液的水狀液體，所以士兵刺羔羊的右肋時，流出了血和水。
如果宰的是一隻雞，一頭狗，我們或許還會噁心，感到內咎難堪。
可惜祂抵不上一隻雞，一頭狗。
至今，不能理解神在宰羔羊時的痛。
The Hippopotamus
by -- T. S. Eliot
The hippopotamus's day
Is passed in sleep; at night he hunts;
God works in a mysterious way -
The church can sleep and feed at once
I saw the 'potamus take wing
Ascending from the damp savannas,
And quiring angels round him sing
The praise of God, in loud hosannas.
Blood of the Lamb shall wash him clean
And him shall heavenly arms enfold,
Among the saints he shall be seen
Performing on a harp of gold.
He shall be washed as white as snow,
By all martyr'd virgins kist,
While the True Church remains below
Wrapt in old miasmal mist.
Doesn't today's writing seem like an animals' carnival? We have chicken, cat, lamb, duck, dog, kangaroo, and hippopotamus all fried in a big wok.

01.27.02.

Words, by Bee Gees
Smile an everlasting smile, a smile can bring you near to me.
Don't ever let me find you down, cause that would bring a tear to me.
This world has lost its glory, let's start a brand new story now, my love.
Right now, there'll be no other time and I can show you how, my love.
Talk in everlasting words, and dedicate them all to me.
And I will give you all my life, I'm here if you should call to me.
You think that I don't even mean a single word I say.
It's only words, and words are all I have, to take your heart away.

Virtual Reality
The all-time "teeth-falling" argument--Does technology facilitate or curb human relationship?
When I first decided to write a homepage, all in mind was that I wanted to write and with a place in the cyberworld, willing or unwilingly, I would have a more legitimate urge to write.
Writing could be lonely. Yes, I mean lonely.
The practice of writing is in solitude, mostly. You write by yourself, often. Without disturbance, I mean.
Solitude is different from loneliness.
Solitude is being alone without feeling lonely. That's a stage I like honestly, in life, in relationship, in my writing, most of the time. Having strangers in this BIG world running into your homepage, and taking time to read your words, vapourizes the loneliness of writing, yet the solitude remains. Solitude remains. They stand aside somewhere in the world, reading, not telling you what to write, just reading.
I cannot remember since when I began to fall for writing. Very early on I guess. Composition is the subject that I scored, oftentimes, very good marks at school. Marks don't reflect anything, sometimes; yet, they boost one's confidence and passion. A pretty lonely kid, amid lots of siblings and friends, in words, I got that liberty to say whatever.
Meeting strangers in virtual reality through my words here is, I would say, a bonus.
A bonus.
Ah Ja, a girl in Toronto, writes a page I go regulary, for a girl of her age, she does permeating some unusual contemplation of life. Being "advertised" in her page, yazi feels, in fact, thrilled. She said, "文字文字文字…鴨子的家只有文字，沒有『豪裝送車位』，但她的文子己經抵得上一切。"
Sometimes when being complimented as such, I feel a little uneasy for what people see yazi as somewhat different from what I see myself. Yet, thanks Ah Ja. Sincerely, thanks.
Fox is what we would call a truly serious person with words. The kind of person who would take days and night pondering what words to be used, what style be attempted, approach be taken. In Fox's home, you see how words were respected, taken cared of , given credits, granted liberty. Fox allows his writing to be writing themselves, not for others.
Meow's my colleague. Take It Lazy, the motto of moew's home, tells what a page it's like. Straight frankiness with pleasant cynicism is what you find in meow's writing.
Every now and then, we visit each other's "home"; no gifts have to carry. If inspirations come, thoughts arisen, you may want to leave a few words in the guest book.
And that's all it takes in this personal homepage universe.
Bizarre.
Sometimes, it takes more than just a plain visiting. For some, it takes, as well, concerns over matters you see in others' inner self, enjoyment over sharings, anxiety even over sinking sentiments of others' words, and split-second nodding of head when a thought so true being uttered in a few words.
Like many other people you meet in "reality" ("reality" is too strange a word to explain now; what's real, what's unreal, what's surreal--are indistinguishable), in "virtual reality" these people leave a footprint at times, and then they may disappear for good.
Once he wrote me and wondered amid the waves of human voices would there be someone who truly listens?
I do.
I just do.
Is "reality" more real than "virtual reality"? Could it be the other way round? Or does it matter afterall? Perhaps it really doesn't.
The other day, I was as usual strolling along campus to my office. It's an overcast morning. The sky was very Seattle winter. The day time brightness plus thick clouds made the stars in invisible. But they are there, I still believe.
It can be true; you just don't see it.
It takes the heart to see, not eyes.
I told you many times over: I wish I would have a single thing that keeps me fighting all out. I said I envy people who know early on what they want. I admire them. I dislike my being uncertained.
You know, I do have a single thing that I have been keeping for long, not giving up--my words and writing. I don't dare to dive in. Writers--are those who will be hungry to death.
Though I may never become one, this little passion will be accompanying me for good.
Hahahaha... it takes a frustrating wife / maniac-depression to produce great artists.... I don't have either. If you will, just allow this girl who loves to write to write, even she may never make a penny.
In return, I would happily accept your EXCITING date: to go to yum cha (carrying a bird-cage), buy "chicken-tail" buns, do grocery shopping, walking in park, making dinner, watching tv, and you doing what you like yourself at home, and me what I like.
Good enough.
Too nice a picture.
Reality is strange.
Technology too.
Including God.
God is strange. A BIG BIG GOD.
P.S. When the duck finds strength, it will pull itself together to link you guys all up.

01.26.02.
The Departure
by Frank Kafka
I ordered my horse to be brought from the stables. The servant did not understand my orders. So I went to the stables myself, saddled the horse, and mounted. In the distance I heard the sound of a trumpet, and I asked the servant what it meant. He knew nothing and had heard nothing. At the gate he stopped me and asked: "Where is the master going?" " I don't know," I said, "just out of here, just out of here. Out of here, nothing else, it's the only way I can reach my goal." "So you know your goal?" he asked. "Yes," I replied, "I've just told you. Out of here - that's my goal."

This story I read from Frank Kafka keeps me thinking all morning. Can the idea of getting out of a place "without" a destination be a goal? A legitimized goal. A goal, at least, curbs complainting voices. Or should we even bother to explain?
How come you are so QOO, Kafka?
P.S. (my maternal hormones surface again) Zoe, sincere support from the duck to your A-Levels. Hans, the applications are extremely tedious, yet not as fearful as we think. Things often seem more horrendous in our mind than in reality.
A little line stolen from Paolo Coelho, in The Alchemist, "When you want something, all the universe conspires in helping you to achieve it."
01.25.02.
Grocery Shopping
circumventing in a supermarket. you and i
me pick pinkish apple, you take greenish pear
you beers, me soda
me halibut, you shrimps
you chocolates, me wind-gum
me bagels you cereals me grained French roast you earl-gray you milk me yogurt you beef me chicken me cantaloupe you watermelon me pasta you pizza me cauliflower you lettuce me pete you peanut better me pumpkin you rice me you you me
me you
you me
until we run into the same aisle facing vanilla ice-cream with macadamia nuts
tongue-tied
fossilized a sec
is it you?
you are?
are you?
yes it is he
yes it is she too
really you are
yes it's me
yes it's me too
oh nice meeting you
you too
never expect to meet you here
me neither
i put you in my cart
you put me in yours
keep toddling
you and i

A Long Long-distance Call
I vow that after finishing this, I am going to wrap up my research work on Urban Governance. Afterall, it's lunch hour now.
Friday office is so uncomfortably quiet when Guimui and Meow both are not in: one's sick and the other in a workshop. This familiar solitude is in fact a little strange to me now. Even it gives me goose-pimples. He's right, "Friday ma, tomorrow is Friday." What's implying that the long distance call could go a little longer, after chatting for some 6-7 hours.
Sometimes the phone would get emotional making us both not hearing each other yet knowing the other's on the other side of the phone.
"I can hear you are a little sleepy," (that's about one in the morning HK time and nine in the morning LA time) I said.
His laugh is often very ... what should I call it.... I cannot come up with the word, but it gives me association to his face. "Yes, a little big tired," he said with a smiling face. I can't see it, but I can hear it.

"Do you want to hear bed-time stories?" I uttered.
"Sure," he replied.
He's, after my 3-year-old nephew, the second person I would tell bed-time story.
"One day, McTai told McMug a story. McTai said, 'There's a child who failed in his dictation; the next day, the child DIED!"
On the other end of the phone, I heard his laugh again. His unique laugh. After a little while, I murmured something he could not hear. As such, he asked me to repeat. I chuckled, "Nothing!"
"I really can't hear, it's true," he requested again.
"Oh, you can't hear? Too bad. I am not repeating it ..." I replied.
He, with a serious tone yet that could not cover his smile, said, "Once upon a time, a girl refused to repeat what she said; the next day she DIED!"
I laughed and laughed.
From eight to eleven, we did not leave the phone. I had a break at eleven-something because as the resident tutor of the hall, I had some periodical missions impossible -- catching snakes being one of them (snakes = illegal residents in the hall).
Arriving at the Resident 3, 8A, the warden and I rang the door bell and asked if we could go in and that a look. Someone saw a little boy in that apartment a few days ago and we suspected he's still there.
As it's a female dormitory, I was asked to check the room. It did not take Holmes' intellects to know that a kid was hiding somewhere in the room. I did not like what I was doing, to be frank. Never do I enjoy interfering with others' matter, yet there's no free accomodation in this world, aside from free lunch, I suppose.
The closet door was left ajar. A female instinct (in which most men are very afraid of) told me someone might be inside. Before walking towards the closet, I recalled various sit-coms in which an affair was discovered in the middle of the night.
The closet door was finally opened, and all I could see was clothes and a big suitcase. Beyond the suitcase sat a little boy with his eyes I could still vividly remember now. I left the room and told the warden the boy was inside.
What I am not comfortable with is not the residential rules at the dormitory. Fair enough, I would say. They know well beforehand they are not supposed to bring non-residents to stay in. What I have a problem more is that the little boy has to experience the unneccessarily fear adults bring upon. Money perhaps is a matter to the resident of the place. Yet if $40 a night in the dormitory can avoid the fear and guilty feelings the boy has to endure, it's not too expensive.
In no time after "snake-mission" was done, I ran back to the dorm and continued the ever-lasting conversation from mid-night to 2:30a.m.
He said, "Silly, you could have pretended that you couldn't find anyone." I thought for a little while. Indeed, I never thought of lying.
I am not a girl good at lying. When I lie, all my body language suggests that I am not telling the truth. Even emotions I am unable to hold. You know, don't you? I tell you always how I feel.
If you were here, I would not say so much.
Instead, I would just got tucked in.

All I Ask Of You
from The Phantom of the Opera
written by: Andrew Lloyd Webber and Charles Hart (1986)
Raoul:
No more talk
of darkness,
Forget these
wide-eyed fears.
I'm here,
nothing can harm you -
my words will
warm and calm you.
Let me be
your freedom,
let daylight
dry your tears.
I'm here
with you, beside you,
to guard you
and to guide you...
Christine:
Say you love me
every
waking moment,
turn my head
with talk of summertime...
Say you need me
with you
now and always...
Promise me that all
you say is true -
that's all I ask
of you...
Raoul:
Let me be
your shelter,
let me be your light.
You're safe:
No-one will find you -
your fears are
far behind you...
Christine:
All I want
is freedom,
a world with
no more night...
and you,
always beside me,
to hold me
and to hide me...
Raoul:
Then say you'll share with
me one
love, one lifetime...
let me lead you
from your solitude....
Say you need me
with you
here, beside you...
anywhere you go,
let me go too -
Christine,
that's all I ask
of you...
Christine:
Say you'll share with
me one
love, one lifetime...
say the word
and I will follow you...
Raul & Christine:
Share each day with
me, each
night, each morning...
Anywhere you go
let me go too...
Love me -
that's all I ask
of you...
01.24.02.
冬青
“自己的研究是迫出來的，別人問我問題，我不能回答，得一一弄清楚。弄清楚要花很多時間，我便索性再多花一些時間把它寫出來。有很多人比我做得更好，只是他們沒有我寫得那麼多、寫得那麼專而已……”
She said that in a TV program of RTHK a few months ago.
This afternoon I was at Medical Faculty Cafeteria waiting for the arms of the clock to struck two, so that I would head to the Dentist. In the same table, sat an 80-something-old lady, silver-haired, wrinkled. She wore a pair of glasses. Her hair, though very thin, was enveloping her even thinner face, with deep hollows on the cheeks. She was having her lunch with a folk--Tofu and some chopped veggies with rice. She did not look anywhere, but concentrated on her plate. I took quite some time to observe this old lady because my guts told me she's the woman I once saw in the show. Hu Shui Ying. Holly Hu.
I never feel awkward to approach strangers: young, old, man or woman.
When I looked at her even closer, with her winter thick jacket, deep-green, with her very wrinkled fingers, almost bony, with all the harshness I saw on her face, I couldn't but wondered myself over again: She looks more like a cleaner or some sorta, other than a Harvard-scholar.
I kept my peace. Is she the Holly-lover?
She's indeed. When suddenly a woman, having seen Hu sitting by herself, come and gave her a warm handshake, I was sure she's Hu, the very few strangers I would get touched out of watching a show.
When the handshake was finished, the woman went away, I began to start asking: "Excuse me, are you the scholar who studies Holly Tree?"
She, looking a bit lost, replied: "No."
I was a bit disappointed, but I knew it's she. Perhaps she could not hear me clearly, I spelt the word HOLLY letter by letter.
She smiled finally, and said: "Oh, you meant Holly!"
Though I got the wrong pronounciation of the word Holly, I got the right person.
In front of me, I suddenly felt like seeing a vacant ocean which has been through so many storms and waves, which is holding so many treasures inside, which is having passion so deep, deeper than an ocean floor. To make the conversation of two Chinese less awkward, I tuned myself to Mandarin.
When she began to talk about Holly, you could feel beams of light shining from her eyes. Oftentimes, you come across such beams with people who are enthusiastic about their life.
She spent the past 60 years studying Holly Tree, together with other many Chinese herbal plants in Harvard University. Graduated from 金陵女子學院, she went to Harvard, and became the first female graduate student from China who got full scholarship there. For the past decades, she's been working both in the States and Southern China and am now residing in Hong Kong.
"I have retired," she said with a rather low-pitched voice and accent (considering the fact that she's 93 already, her voice was indeed very strong), "but I am still working everyday." There was some sense of proud (not arrogancy) and perseverance (not stubbornness) permeating in her words.
Beside her plate sat another lunch box. With the rice and veggies on her plate half-finished, she opened the lunch box (which was another box of Tofu and veggies with Rice) and used the fork to put the rest of the unfinished lunch into the box, piling up the food further. I thought to myself, that's probably gonna be her dinner as well as breakfast later of the day.
I remember in the program she said: "I eat very little meat."
Perhaps that's why she's still so artculate and aleart, at her age.
The leftover she saved did not confirm that only, but also explained to me how she got all the children of her extended family to the States to study. Everyone who needed her financial support, Hu helped them, getting them one after another to the States. Her desolate outfit (which made me think of her more of a cleaner), her simplicity, her life strength told me what an vast ocean she really is.
According to the show, she married at 20-something to a doctor, with both then living in the States. Hu would work till early in the morning and her husband would come to fetch her home. One night, having had waited for hours in the train station, Hu felt something might have gone wrong.
Home, she found her husband dead in bed.
At 93, when she recalled that, she still shed her tears.
She left her husband's study untouched; she left her life unmarried again.
Determination. Perseverance . Sincerity. Passion.
They are elements that make me truly respect her as a scholar.
Love. Genuine love for others is what make me respect this elderly as a being.
I remember at the end of the show, Hu was asked how come she could be so strong-willed in her academic life and persistent in helping others. She was in a chapel or some sort and said: "God gives me this gift what I should excell what he's offered. It's his Gift.
Holding the lunch box, she asked for my last name, I told her with my mispronouned pinyin. She said: "See you." I did not know what to reply, but I looked, with my smile, at her hampback shadow disappearing at the corner. There's part of me wanting, strangely, to talk more with this woman. A single woman without children or any partner. Yet I think in her Holly universe and in God's Grace, she's got all she aspires to get.
冬青。她活著像棵冬青。在人生的冬季，近百之年，像比我更年青。

01.23.02.
停電--Twins
近日，談Twins成風，六歲以上的為爭論Gillian還是Sa飄亮，可弄得面紅耳赤，或反目成仇。三四十歲，更會看Twins看到流口水...
不想批評別人，年幼的我到今天，亦有自己心儀的東西。儘管對這Twins風，還戚戚稱奇。
這風亦吹我到許多年前，追溯著當年我愛玩什麼--其中一樣是停電的炎夏夜。
十歲前，我住在舊式公共屋村: 二百多尺，擠進一家八口; 洗手間在屋外; 樓高八層，沒有升降機。這是六十年代後期，或七十年代初的產物;由於早年興建的緣故，屋村電力供應到後期有所不支。
八十年代中起，鍾師奶安裝了冷氣機，強仔家安裝了冷氣機，李嫂又安裝了冷氣機; 冷氣機紛紛進駐屋村家中。無冷氣機的會羨慕，會譏誚，會詛咒有冷氣機的。有冷氣機的，關上大門，開上冷氣，懶埋別人死活。
每經過有冷氣機的鍾師奶，強仔，李嫂的家，我總在門前跓足良久，嘎嘎的笑，享受從他們門隙罅溜出一會兒的涼快。
節目高潮不在這，而是在他涼冷氣，你吹風扇，她開冰箱，我看電視的同時--全村一黑! 停電了!
停電是突如其來的中秋節: 家家戶戶在櫃檯，床底找來蠟燭，弄個蒸暑中秋。熬不過一室熱呼呼的境況，便走到屋村公園去，閒話家常，如常詛咒有冷氣機的人家。樓下士多的老板，更張快溶掉的冰淇淋送給孩子們。童昏的鴨子，好趁機點燈籠，玩蠟燭，發瘋到跑。
待電燈泡噗噗一個一個發亮，我才老大的不願意回家。
至今，工作間的冷氣機遲遲不開，畢竟吐露港的風，比冷氣，比Twins風清新多。
A story I got this morning. Share with you here.
JOHN 3:16
In the city of Chicago, one cold, dark night, a blizzard was setting in. A little boy was selling newspapers on the corner, the people were in and out of the cold. The little boy was so cold that he wasn't trying to sell many papers.
He walked up to a policeman and said, "Mister, you wouldn't happen to Know where a poor boy could find a warm place to sleep tonight would you? You see, I sleep in a box up around the corner there and down the alley and it's awful cold in there for tonight. Sure would be nice to have a warm place to stay."
The policeman looked down at the little boy and said, "You go down The street to that big white house and you knock on the door. When they Come out the door you just say John 3:16, and they will let you in." So he did. He walked up the steps and knocked on the door, and a lady answered.
He looked up and said, "John 3:16."
The lady said, "Come on in, Son." She took him in and she sat him down in a split bottom rocker in front of a great big old fireplace, and she went off. The boy sat there for a while and thought to himself: John 3:16....I don't understand it, but it sure makes a cold boy warm.
Later she came back and asked him "Are you hungry?" He said, "Well, just a little. I haven't eaten in a couple of days, and I guess I could stand a little bit of food." The lady took him in the kitchen and sat him down to a table full of wonderful food. He ate and ate until he couldn't eat any more. Then he thought to himself: John 3:16... Boy, I sure don't understand it but it sure makes a hungry boy full.
She took him upstairs to a bathroom to a huge bathtub filled with Warm water, and he sat there and soaked for a while. As he soaked, he thought to himself: John 3:16... I sure don't understand it, but it sure makes a dirty boy clean. You know, I've not had a bath, a real bath, in my whole life. The only bath I ever had was when I stood in front of that big old fire hydrant as they flushed it out.
The lady came in and got him. She took him to a room, tucked him into a big old feather bed, pulled the covers up around his neck, kissed him goodnight and turned out the lights. As he lay in the darkness and looked out the window at the snow coming down on that cold night, he thought to himself: John 3:16... I don't understand it but it sure makes a tired boy rested.
The next morning the lady came back up and took him down again to that same big table full of food. After he ate, she took him back to that same big old split bottom rocker in front of the fireplace and picked up a big old Bible. She sat down in front of him and looked into his young face.
"Do you understand John 3:16?" she asked gently. He replied, "No, Ma'am, I don't. The first time I ever heard it was last night when the policeman told me to use it." She opened the Bible to John 3:16 and began to explain to him about Jesus. Right there, in front of that big old fireplace, he gave his heart and life to Jesus. He sat there and thought: John 3:16. I don't understand it, but it sure makes a lost Boy feel safe.
You know, I have to confess I don't understand it either, how God was willing to send His Son to die for me, and how Jesus would agree to do such a thing. I don't understand the agony of the Father and every angel in heaven as they watched Jesus suffer and die. I don't understand the intense love for ME that kept Jesus on the cross till the end. I don't Understand it, but it sure does make life worth living.