It\’s so interesting sometimes to hear that people believe what I write defines who I am. Through writing–and I mean the personal writing of blogging, journaling…is that where we show our true selves?

I write to express my thoughts. Yet, I don\’t write to say everything I think. It\’s narrow, this blog. It only captures those short bursts of my daily thoughts. And it interests me how there are some who can base my entire personality, my entire character based on these words.

And yet, that\’s how we naturally are. It\’s our instinctive nature. When we hear words, we believe it means something. We see a movie, we fall in love with the star. Not only because of how the star looks, but the words, the context. We believe those words mean something, that they define the character. And when we read a book, we believe the author is one great person, a reflection of his words. We believe we know them through these words.

However, in reality, that\’s not always the case. I am not \”angrily independent\”. I am not \”sincere\”. I am not \”hostile\”. I am not \”honest and down to earth\”. Words pigeon-hole people. They do in fact reveal partial character, but that\’s only seeing a single pine needle in an entire forrest. But in the end, language for its such ambiguous nature is our only pathway of communication and we can\’t avoid judging based on words.

So today isn\’t just the day I got run over by a cart (on my right foot). Or the day where I sat through more than 8 hours of presentations. Or the day where I ate the catered snacks (mostly cheese) from the presentations. Or just the day where I had an awkward moment with someone I knew almost 2 years ago…

No, not quite.

It was the day where I stood in front of an entire class of design students and hciers, professors from the school of design, a guest from Microsoft, our clients from the Mattress Factory, students\’ significant others…and cracked up (for no reason) in the middle of my presentation. And couldn\’t speak for at least 30 seconds while I tried to contain myself while everyone watched. Fortunately, my teammates covered for me during that moment. After I collected myself, I continued.

How embarrassing. But well this isn\’t the first time it happened. The second time! And hopefully this won\’t happen again…

All I can is that this is probably a reflection of how I find a lot of things in life amusing nowadays.

A few weeks ago, I got tricked into taking a salsa class. Guilt-tripped, specifically. It was only $20 for 6 classes and I dreaded every minute of it. During the first class, I could barely make it through. Mind you, it was just very traumatizing for me (aka sensitive and highly self-conscious in this context) that I almost tried to get a refund back.

But I eventually thought, why not?

People nowadays often see me as the uncoordinated one, the one who can\’t catch, the one who drops things, the one who trips and scatterbrained. Oddly enough, people before Pittsburgh wouldn\’t think that of me at all. Some see me as a performer, a speaker, the loud one.

And so why does salsa trip me up? I love dancing. Dancing without actual formal steps. I used to take ballet and quit after the repetitive critique of my uncoordination got to me. When I was younger, my sister and I would dance to our parents\’ mix tapes at night. Making our own steps. My sister made up rountines and we would follow them through, dancing in front of the mirror. Nobody was watching, nobody was reviewing, and that\’s probably why I was ok with it.

Last summer, I took one class of swing and wanted to leave in the middle of it. And at a club recently, my guy friends tried to do some steps with me…a combination of salsa and swing. Even as a follow, I ended up stepping on their feet, spinning the wrong way, and simply losing my balance.

And yet. I am taking a kickboxing class on campus. When I tell people, they laugh in surprise. Jenn taking a kickboxing class?!?! I can see them trying to imagine me kicking or punching someone. Or better yet, simply having it altogether. It\’s true that I can\’t ever get the sequences of punches and kicks right away. It takes longer for me than everyone else. Yet, I know nobody cares. There\’s 15+ people in the class sometimes. And the goal is not to get it right. Rather it\’s for a workout. I follow along. And eventually it\’s not about the kicks, the punches, the jabs, the upper cuts or the jacks. It\’s about the music. And the movement. That\’s what dancing really is.

40 wings at wing zone. One thing crossed off my list of things to do in Pittsburgh before I leave. And I forgot to take photos of that experience. I ate the most of course. I always win!

Happy Cinco de Mayo! I don\’t remember what I used to do for Spanish class, but it was special. And to me, the 5th of May only means that my birthday is 17 days away!

So from ValleyWag, why does Yahoo celebrate Cinco de Mayo but Google doesn\’t? Apparently for the 7th year in a row. Google has all these random celebration (like the Olympics), but not cinco de mayo?

Is it because Google is closer to Stanford? Is because…Ernie is from Yahoo? A little bit of ethnicity?

What is the best piece of advice you have ever received?

One was when I was 19 years old and from a friend, \”MOVE ON.\”

Then today…
In juggling, if you\’re not dropping, you\’re not learning. – Jesse Schell on the last day of Game Design

And about a month ago, \”Never trust someone who does not love music.\”

I saw Amelie tonight. In the McConomy in the CMU University Center. This was my second time. When I first watched it, I was put off. I didn\’t like it. It was incredibly superfluous. Maybe it was just me then, but I found the storyline frustrating. It was annoyingly slow.

But now when I watch it. Oh, I can understand. I am a dreamer. I am a romantic. I love creating mysteries and puzzles for people even if it will backfire or irritate them to no end (see history I created in undergrad for evidence). But even then, that\’s not what the movie is about. It\’s about looking for optimism. The little things in life that we often neglect to see. To recover the childlike innocence and the potential of life to be greater.

But ultimately, I just enjoy the music. The Amelie theme is so repeated and so…innocent. Yann Tiersen. The same composer as in Goodbye Lenin!

Yesterday, I got a record of at least 45 e-mails (not including junk mail). At least 1 e-mail every hour. Back in Berkeley, days would pass without getting any relevant e-mails, but now the world has changed.

I get e-mails about:
– annoucements that a building is going to have a change in temperature
– annoucements of a thesis proposal or a poster session
– changes in parking
– meeting times with my group for class
– files for those groups
– job search e-mails
– e-mails from friends (keeping in touch)
– emails from my grad program coordinator (lots of duplicates)
– requests from friends
– e-mails from people who missed me on aim
– questions from prospective students
and more.

Good god, my life has become wholly digital!

I don\’t know whether to take an insult or not, but according to the dictionary that comes with Mac 10.4…

blog |bläg| noun a weblog : blogs run by twenty-something Americans with at least an unhealthy interest in computers.

*cough*