Yesterday was a day of tragic news, as the world learned of the death of both Michael Jackson and Farah Fawcett, the former completely a surprise, and the latter was expected for a while due to her battle with cancer. Michael Jackson was only 50 years old, and Farah Fawcett 62. Still, as I read the news, I could not help but think to myself, “life is so transient and vulnerable to so many things – illness, accidents, etc – that it’s a wonder anyone can live to old age.”
As I look at my newborn son, I have started to worry about everything and anything. Short of protecting him all the time, I feel that he might be hurt. He’s at the beginning of his life, and he really does have his whole life ahead of him. But what if I am not careful about protecting him against all the germs, viruses, evils and disasters of the world? And how could I possibly do that, short of quitting everything else in life?
Then I got an e-mail from a dear friend who has had three kids by now. She wrote, “There will be endless number of things to worry about, and it's very hard to pursue perfection. Essentially, you don't realize how messy and conflicted and beautiful a life is until now. Right now it's total immersion in the baby and you might feel some loss of your own identity, but soon it will actually expand and reinforce your idea of self.”
Death has always frightened me terribly. Now that I am holding my baby boy in my arms and feeling his life, I find it hard to believe that a life so vivid and irrepressible could ever expire. As my friend said, we don’t realize how complicated and yet how beautiful life is until we create a life ourselves. Yes, we all will die some day. But part of us will live on, through our babies, who will get old eventually as well. But for now, they look like that they possess a rather eternal vivacity. They look like that they will just keep growing, thriving and living on forever.
And that’s of course a mother’s wish for her son.
Friday, June 26, 2009
Wednesday, June 24, 2009
Maternal Love
It has been a week since I gave birth to my son Winston. Prior to that, I had always wondered what people meant by saying that "it's the most wonderful thing that could happen in your life". I literally could not imagine.Now I do understand, although I lack the appropriate words to describe why. When I first held him in my arms after a very long labor, I marveled at how little he was, and also how dependent and helpless he was. While he did not exist in my life up until that moment, once he was in my arms, I felt that my life could not possibly be complete without him. Despite my wishes to raise him with discipline, I now understand why it is so easy for mothers to spoil their kids. Maternal love is supposedly the most selfless kind of love, and now I realize that in a way, while it is the purest kind of love, it is not necessarily selfless. - A baby is literally a vital part of a mother. Therefore, it is no wonder that she would do everything for her baby, including sacrificing herself if necessary. The genetic programming definitely works here, as a biologist friend commented when I told him my feelings about Winston.
Yes, indeed Winston is the most wonderful thing that has ever happened in my life. I realize that I will probably be an overprotective mother, as I have already started worrying about everything about him.
I also understand how my own mother felt about me when I was born. Without Winston, I don't think I could claim to truly appreciate how my mother has loved me and my sister. Perhaps one can only understand maternal love when she is on the giving end, as opposed to merely the receiving end.
Friday, June 5, 2009
After Attending San Francisco Opera's Production of "Tosca"
When Michael and I were living in Boston, at least twice a year, we would take a weekend trip from Boston to New York to visit friends. We always had such a grand time, going sightseeing or visiting museums, eating out, playing cards until 2 or 3 am, as well as to squeeze in a show or two. Sometimes we would attend a concert at New York Philharmonic; sometimes we would watch a play, such as the obnoxious playwright Tom Stoppard’s “The Invention of Love”. One New Year’s eve, we had great south Indian food for lunch and saw “Proof” starring Mary Louise Parker in the afternoon. On another trip back from New York, Michael suggested dropping by unannounced to visit a friend living in Providence. We were so amused to see how surprised she was when she opened the door. That was back when we engaged often in such “spontaneous living”…. I am amazed that I still remember all these details of our New York trips!
We only started attending operas fairly regularly after we saw the Metropolitan Opera’s production of “Tosca” (the first opera we saw at the Met) – we sat so far from the stage that we needed binoculars to see the singers’ faces, only to realize that it’s best not to see them (hint – it takes great lung capacity to sing those arias, and generally skinny people do not have huge lung capacity). Since then, we have not seen any operas that rival the Met Opera’s magnificent productions, in Boston, San Diego or Los Angeles.
This past week, Michael and I attended San Francisco Opera’s performance of “Tosca” at the War Memorial Opera House. Maybe it’s because I was paying more attention, or maybe it’s because opera is considered a “higher” form of art than say, ballet, I had the impression that most of the people at the opera were not only quite old, but also very “distinguished-looking”. Of course, it is not surprising to see more old people at the operas – opera is not exactly as popular or “modern” as “American Idols”! People were dressed much more nicely at the opera than at ballets or other regular concerts – I felt really dowdy looking so heavily pregnant, and missed the days when I was as skinny as these other women wearing evening gowns. When the opera was over, quite a few limos were waiting outside to pick up old ladies gingerly walking in their high heels (yes, they were still wearing high heels).
Perhaps our tastes in music have got more selective – I remember being moved to tears by the arias sung by Mario towards the end of the opera at the Met, but this time, both Michael and I thought that overall “Tosca” was not even one of Puccini’s best. In addition, while we are not opera aficionados, we can still tell that the opera singers were not as good as the Met Opera ones. Don’t get me wrong – they still are very good, but their voices just did not grab me the way a truly great opera singer could.
Come to think of it, these traditional art forms such as opera and ballet are facing challenges from the new forms of art and entertainment every day, enhanced by technology and rendered easily accessible by internet. Michael pointed out how the seats at opera houses are so small and uncomfortable compared to the stadium seats in movie theaters. Well, I suppose that cannot be changed easily, and nor can opera houses afford to give people any more space without charging a real fortune. In a way, implicitly we are asked to put up with a lot of inconveniences to enjoy these traditional art forms – the price to pay for “acting” cultured. Being so much bigger and so much less mobile these days, I definitely find the seats a lot more uncomfortable than just a few weeks ago! I thought to myself , “I used to not even notice such things, but now I notice everything. I must be getting old!”
Leaving the War Memorial Opera House on this recent Tuesday night, I noticed how empty the streets were, with the exception of the limos and the taxis that waited outside to pick up passengers. I recall, somewhat nostalgically, that in Manhattan, when we got out of the Met Opera at close to midnight, the city was still bustling with energy, traffic, people and neon lights, even in the dead of the winter. Once we even went to get hot and spicy Korean food at close to mid-night, and it was downright fabulous and intoxicating.
Come to think of it, the Korean food (if reproduced) might not taste so amazing today, because by now we have had many exciting experiences that the bar for excitement has got higher and higher. Alternatively, it is possibly due to the fact that as we get older, we get more jaded. Back then, the ability to see a Met Opera followed by mid-night Bibimbap with freshly made kimchee could make us giddy beyond imagination. But it was mostly internal rather than external factors that have contributed to our fond memories. Back then, we were just so easily excited, amazed, surprised, and impressed, not to mention the fact that we were impoverished graduate students who had not seen the world yet.
Therefore, to be fair, perhaps the Met Opera was not really so much superior to the San Francisco Opera. The difference might be entirely in our minds. We remember the Met Opera as so much more lively, beautiful and memorable, perhaps because we see ourselves in those days through a certain filter, hopeful, energetic, innocent and beautifully young.
We only started attending operas fairly regularly after we saw the Metropolitan Opera’s production of “Tosca” (the first opera we saw at the Met) – we sat so far from the stage that we needed binoculars to see the singers’ faces, only to realize that it’s best not to see them (hint – it takes great lung capacity to sing those arias, and generally skinny people do not have huge lung capacity). Since then, we have not seen any operas that rival the Met Opera’s magnificent productions, in Boston, San Diego or Los Angeles.
This past week, Michael and I attended San Francisco Opera’s performance of “Tosca” at the War Memorial Opera House. Maybe it’s because I was paying more attention, or maybe it’s because opera is considered a “higher” form of art than say, ballet, I had the impression that most of the people at the opera were not only quite old, but also very “distinguished-looking”. Of course, it is not surprising to see more old people at the operas – opera is not exactly as popular or “modern” as “American Idols”! People were dressed much more nicely at the opera than at ballets or other regular concerts – I felt really dowdy looking so heavily pregnant, and missed the days when I was as skinny as these other women wearing evening gowns. When the opera was over, quite a few limos were waiting outside to pick up old ladies gingerly walking in their high heels (yes, they were still wearing high heels).
Perhaps our tastes in music have got more selective – I remember being moved to tears by the arias sung by Mario towards the end of the opera at the Met, but this time, both Michael and I thought that overall “Tosca” was not even one of Puccini’s best. In addition, while we are not opera aficionados, we can still tell that the opera singers were not as good as the Met Opera ones. Don’t get me wrong – they still are very good, but their voices just did not grab me the way a truly great opera singer could.
Come to think of it, these traditional art forms such as opera and ballet are facing challenges from the new forms of art and entertainment every day, enhanced by technology and rendered easily accessible by internet. Michael pointed out how the seats at opera houses are so small and uncomfortable compared to the stadium seats in movie theaters. Well, I suppose that cannot be changed easily, and nor can opera houses afford to give people any more space without charging a real fortune. In a way, implicitly we are asked to put up with a lot of inconveniences to enjoy these traditional art forms – the price to pay for “acting” cultured. Being so much bigger and so much less mobile these days, I definitely find the seats a lot more uncomfortable than just a few weeks ago! I thought to myself , “I used to not even notice such things, but now I notice everything. I must be getting old!”
Leaving the War Memorial Opera House on this recent Tuesday night, I noticed how empty the streets were, with the exception of the limos and the taxis that waited outside to pick up passengers. I recall, somewhat nostalgically, that in Manhattan, when we got out of the Met Opera at close to midnight, the city was still bustling with energy, traffic, people and neon lights, even in the dead of the winter. Once we even went to get hot and spicy Korean food at close to mid-night, and it was downright fabulous and intoxicating.
Come to think of it, the Korean food (if reproduced) might not taste so amazing today, because by now we have had many exciting experiences that the bar for excitement has got higher and higher. Alternatively, it is possibly due to the fact that as we get older, we get more jaded. Back then, the ability to see a Met Opera followed by mid-night Bibimbap with freshly made kimchee could make us giddy beyond imagination. But it was mostly internal rather than external factors that have contributed to our fond memories. Back then, we were just so easily excited, amazed, surprised, and impressed, not to mention the fact that we were impoverished graduate students who had not seen the world yet.
Therefore, to be fair, perhaps the Met Opera was not really so much superior to the San Francisco Opera. The difference might be entirely in our minds. We remember the Met Opera as so much more lively, beautiful and memorable, perhaps because we see ourselves in those days through a certain filter, hopeful, energetic, innocent and beautifully young.
Tuesday, June 2, 2009
The Bay Area Housing Market
Compared to a friend of mine who has kept an active blog full of pictures of places she visited in Europe (she’s currently working in England), my blog has consisted of nothing but rather boring and mundane activities, such as watching movies (I just watched “Angels and Demons”, which was downright silly but I enjoyed it nonetheless as it was like visiting Rome again), going to operas and ballets (I have already written about Tan Yuan Yuan twice and am about to see a San Francisco Opera production of “Tosca” tonight - big deal), going hiking (even my mom, who’s been here for just a little over 2 weeks, has been Crystal Springs Reservoir, San Andreas Lake, Golden Gate Park, and Portola Valley areas several times by now). I guess I can ask Michael to put up some photos he took in San Francisco Botanical Garden and the Rose Garden in Golden Gate Park, but they really are nothing compared to the magnificent palaces, ancient castles and quaint houses showcased on my friend’s blog (she had pictures of Bath, Oslo, Paris, and numerous cute little English towns such as Kenilworth, Conventry, etc) – too bad that she does not allow public access, or else I would have added a link here.
Just today I was talking to a friend about the Bay Area housing market. When I told him that for this year, I am paying $2,800 a month for a 4-bedroom, 2000-square-foot, 10-year old house in a not-so-attractive neighborhood, he said that it was fairly good deal. I have already battled with the landlord on various issues, as he does not want to spend money on professional services, indicating that he himself certainly does not feel well off enough. First I was really indignant, as I am a landlord myself, and have never interfered with my agent doing anything for my tenants in San Diego, even though my house in San Diego is in much better condition and a much better neighborhood. Then I realized that whatever I do for others has no bearing on how others will behave. Suffice to say that my experience in this rental house has not been exactly enjoyable, and I rather dislike the cold weather here – I would much prefer the sunny weather of Palo Alto and further south.
People say that the high property values justify themselves because you get what you pay for – in other words, by living in Bay Area, you get access to a lot of things that you cannot get elsewhere. In a way, in order to enjoy what the famed Bay Area has to offer, one has to seek them proactively – trying all kinds of restaurants, attending various cultural events, skiing at Lake Tahoe, wine-tasting in Napa or Sonoma Valley or Santa Cruz Mountains, hiking around the lakes and hills, etc, all of which cost money. And if one were to live in a less desirable neighborhood in a 50 to 100 year old un-renovated house in order to pay for all these things that Bay Area has to offer, well, that does not seem to be worth it really either, does it?
Therefore, no wonder multi-millionaires in Palo Alto feel rather poor! Michael and I have been discussing where we would like to buy a house in Bay Area within this year. He loves great scenery and terrific views, and can perhaps live in a smaller place, whereas I am used to really spacious house with many rooms, and therefore less insistent on the absolute beauty of the surrounding neighborhood. But both of us want to live in nicely designed and modern homes, with easy commutes. Despite the housing market slowdowns, it looks like that in order to get something that meets most of these criteria, it will cost at least $1.25 million. And it is not even in Palo Alto, the only place where the public schools are good enough for us to send our kid there. In other words, even after paying at least $1.25 million for a house, we will be paying private school tuitions, and NOT be taking advantage of the school district that presumably has contributed to the high property value.
Isn’t the Bay Area housing market ridiculous? Coming from Boston and San Diego, two places that are not exactly considered inexpensive in the United States, I find it shocking.
Then my friend in New York told me that she was about to rent a house that’s slightly bigger than ours for $5,600 a month! She and I both wondered – are we truly in a recession?
Just today I was talking to a friend about the Bay Area housing market. When I told him that for this year, I am paying $2,800 a month for a 4-bedroom, 2000-square-foot, 10-year old house in a not-so-attractive neighborhood, he said that it was fairly good deal. I have already battled with the landlord on various issues, as he does not want to spend money on professional services, indicating that he himself certainly does not feel well off enough. First I was really indignant, as I am a landlord myself, and have never interfered with my agent doing anything for my tenants in San Diego, even though my house in San Diego is in much better condition and a much better neighborhood. Then I realized that whatever I do for others has no bearing on how others will behave. Suffice to say that my experience in this rental house has not been exactly enjoyable, and I rather dislike the cold weather here – I would much prefer the sunny weather of Palo Alto and further south.
People say that the high property values justify themselves because you get what you pay for – in other words, by living in Bay Area, you get access to a lot of things that you cannot get elsewhere. In a way, in order to enjoy what the famed Bay Area has to offer, one has to seek them proactively – trying all kinds of restaurants, attending various cultural events, skiing at Lake Tahoe, wine-tasting in Napa or Sonoma Valley or Santa Cruz Mountains, hiking around the lakes and hills, etc, all of which cost money. And if one were to live in a less desirable neighborhood in a 50 to 100 year old un-renovated house in order to pay for all these things that Bay Area has to offer, well, that does not seem to be worth it really either, does it?
Therefore, no wonder multi-millionaires in Palo Alto feel rather poor! Michael and I have been discussing where we would like to buy a house in Bay Area within this year. He loves great scenery and terrific views, and can perhaps live in a smaller place, whereas I am used to really spacious house with many rooms, and therefore less insistent on the absolute beauty of the surrounding neighborhood. But both of us want to live in nicely designed and modern homes, with easy commutes. Despite the housing market slowdowns, it looks like that in order to get something that meets most of these criteria, it will cost at least $1.25 million. And it is not even in Palo Alto, the only place where the public schools are good enough for us to send our kid there. In other words, even after paying at least $1.25 million for a house, we will be paying private school tuitions, and NOT be taking advantage of the school district that presumably has contributed to the high property value.
Isn’t the Bay Area housing market ridiculous? Coming from Boston and San Diego, two places that are not exactly considered inexpensive in the United States, I find it shocking.
Then my friend in New York told me that she was about to rent a house that’s slightly bigger than ours for $5,600 a month! She and I both wondered – are we truly in a recession?
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