Jia Lin’s Weblog

Look at the two bright young parents-no wonder their baby is a genius, who took this photo when she’s 19 months old. This was taken at Capilano park, Vancouver.  Our favorite picture so far, and Fifi’s first masterpiece ever. She’s been born a little world traveler and sees so many places with us since she’s little. She’s sincerely curious and happy on new things she sees and experiences. She enjoys food everywhere she went, and eats well on her own, so we could enjoy all the exotic food. She sleeps as soon as the car starts or plane takes off-I bet she can be a journalist or rock star when she grows up-since she adapt herself so well on all the long flights and road trips. And now she has developed this new photographing skills and her dad and mom can finally get into the same picture again.  

My very best friend from job left the company today, and I was too busy to give him a proper goodbye. So I want to dedicate this post to Matt-if you happen to read this post and you would know that I come back to blogging, as you’ve encouraged me to. Don’t know how long I can keep on going. But if you keep reading, I might be able to do it a little longer this time. Keep me posted of your new job and life too!

it’s like surrounded by the whole world.

so here it is- a space for Fifi

Because I realize I can’t speak English well without writing in it.

How about work? Isn’t everyone else in your office speaking English? Yes, but that’s office English. When I find out that I have heard or said or written all of these (Via Imick)every day since I started this job, I knew why I could not learn more of English.

On the other way, I was caught between many a pairs of conflicts in mind. Baby is the most cared subject- but don’t want to be that kind of parents that worship baby so much to record every moment of the parenting; knowledge on industry and technology are growing stronger from work and reading, but don’t want to think about work-related subject after working hours; started to pay attention on finance and investment (also a new interest since the baby came-for obvious reason), and watch Jim Cramer religiously, but hate to write about money; passion for art and literature burnt inside, but seem to lose the aesthetic sensibility to all of the above.

when I started blogging 5 years ago, I named my blog “Practice”-I omitted “English writing” to make it sound cooler. Looking back, I find that the time when I blogged frequently and enthusiastically is when I felt most comfortable in speaking the language. I thought I could take it easy once the ability is established. I was wrong. Even the thinking activity weaned withered. Writing keeps the flow of the thinking and more often than not, it stimulate more thinking. Without thinking in writing, I feel like a sitcom segmented by ads-you can always catch up the plot-but the same plot day after day. Maybe you are what you eat-but what you write.

Before Fifi was born,  we took several childbirth classes and learned in awe how baby is born. Every time I watched the raw footage of labor in documentaries, I had to brink away my tears the moment the baby was pushed out of the exhausted and excited mothers. I imagined how monumental the moment will be when it comes to me- how emotionally overwhelmed I will be. And then, the moment came- Fifi finally slided out, after 22 hours of labor, covered in blood and fluid, and the nurse pushed her firmly into my arms. She didn’t cry out really loud, instead,  she’s whining like a little cone-headed animal, wounded all over, after a long and lonely journey, soft, warm, moist and sticky, a tiny piece of pink flesh, with temperature and breath. I looked at her, like looking at a extraterrestrial creature falling onto my arms from outer space, not feeling it’s coming out of my own body. All other possible emotions at that moment are submerged by suspicion and curiosity. I, looking at this most strange creature of all, with my most fresh eyes, like another new-born in the birth room… Then nurses took her away for cleaning and measuring. I heard her crying a little harder, which reminded me that  I had not wept with excitement yet-like I had always envisioned. Nonetheless, the  moment is gone.

* Fifi was born March 2^nd, 2007, a week before her due date.  

this is the deck of my house yesterday. We had been under the siege by snowy and icy driveways for three days. To get out the house for airport, I had to drag our suitcases through the whole block covered with snow and ice to catch a cab, since no vehicles could drive in (wait, I am not talking about Buffalo, right?)  

 This is where I am today-Sunny and warm La Jolla! Sunlight stays in my room at Estancia all day long. Enjoying Rancheros cuisine (not sure what’s the difference from California cuisine, but what’s in food is not important anymore) at the Spanish Corridor, wondering in the spa garden of Eucalyptus, lavender and citrus trees, I wonder how I could leave southern California for Seattle. Or is it only a temporary feeling in the winter.    

I try not to blog work-related subjects, so this post is not about work, but some thoughts rising from a workplace accident.

And it is a major accident-a giant crane across the street smashed into our office after collepsing on another two buildinga last night. I did not think too much of if right after I read the news and flood of emails from the office, since nobody in the office gets hurt.  I worked from home most of time since the summer and only come in once or twice a week. Then I realized how close my cube is to the window from which the crane crashed into. What if it happened during business hour, and on Wednesdays when I usually go to office? And what if I was not transferred from the old cube which is so close to the window that I could have been hit right from behind, and it happened in the wrong moment? Then I said to myself, wow, you survive another death threat.

When I said another, it sounds way too dramatic, since I never have been in life-or-death situations. Since I left my home country and pursue new life abroad, I started to get that kind of survivor mentality from time to time-like “it could have been me at the wrong time and wrong place”, like “it could have been me if I visited WTC two months later”, or “it could have been me if my flights landed at De Gaulle airport the day the roof collapsed”. I am hardly a world traveler, but I wonder if the true one will feel stronger sense of survival as he set his foot in one more strange place in the world. More over,  when tragedy happens to our friends or to people we don’t know, we felt the pain and sorrow for them, there is a small voice whispered in the heart: “it could have been me”. Every extra day we are granted in the world feels like another day the death’s negligence to let us go, if you are as pessimistic and grateful as me.

update: one man in another building is confirmed dead in the accident.       

Bin pointed to a news story about White house’s comments on John Kerry’s apology, saying: “look, republicans are so much alike you-every time I apologize, you woman say oh, it’s too late!” I think that’s the cutest remarks on Republican I’ve ever heard.