A Texas new year--watch the fajitas.

After some reading in the UH (Univ. of Houston) library I began thinking about how I really could live in Houston. If for some reason Berkeley doesn't work out I could go to UH's School of Social of Work, but then I am only basing this on UH's newly removated library with glorious rows after rows of study rooms and carrels, unlike the piddling few at UC Berkeley for which you must stake claim early or just go somewhere else to seek a conducive study environment. With Houston, though, if you look past the mosquitoes, traffic, pollution, and sweltering humidity you'd see a bustling metropolis with diversity, art, a museum district, parks, and a Chinatown. Mind you, this all came to me while sailing down a trafficless freeway in 80 degree weather the day after Christmas. My thoughts may be vastly different during any month past February.

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During what was supposed to be a fun-filled jaunt in Austin, two friends and I were trounced by food poisoning! So instead of hiking the Greenbelt or catching a flick at Dobie Theater or picking up Austin paraphenalia from Book-Woman, we all clutched our stomachs in groans cursing our bad luck and the bad fajitas. Feeling much better now, but will think twice before setting foot in Hula Hut again.

Happy Christmas...and sunshine

I hope you are all having a splendid holiday, Christmas or Kwanzaa, gifts or otherwise. It is something like 80 degrees here in Houston--you really can never predict the weather in Texas. Last year it snowed.

I'm back from a semi-disturbing church message that without Christmas there would be no peace in the world. What? I think it has to do with there not being any Christ, Prince of Peace. Hmm... Then the pastor also kept drawing comparisons between darkness and light, winter and summer, cold and warmth. My sis was much offended because she loves the cold. I was annoyed that evangelical language is always so Western-centric. Why doesn't a Chinese church employ culturally resonant material for services, sermons, and songs? Just because Christianity reached Asians through Western avenues doesn't mean it has to be practiced in the same way.

The light blue walls of the sanctuary felt so artificial against the blue sky framed in the windows. At least the sun is out, right?

A fish no longer!

Hullo, home at last for the winter break. It's colder here in Houston than in Berkeley, strangely enough. My dad was scouring stores for a space heater for one his tenant and could not find one--all sold out! After taking a peek at my calendar I realized how little time I really did have here. Must make the most of it...and study for a diversity competentcy exam to test out of a class. Arg, looks like i'll be at the Univ. of Houston library.

In light of the brevity of the MSW program--four semesters--I do believe I have completed my freshman semester. Yea, on to becoming a sophomore! Reflections on my introduction to graduate school as follows:

- I should study more and not just the week before finals;
- I found that I can make it living in a coop--I am a communal animal after all;
- School is what you make of it, and I have room to grow;
- "B" does not equal "Bad";
- It is good to have a balanced life: socializing is important;
- Pre-social workers are great people;
- Crunch time is when you eat pizza for more than one meal in a day and on days on end;
and...
- I can make it living in a new place! California is a beautiful place.

Ok, not so profound of a post, but this is all I can muster from the commotion inside the coffee shop where I am snatching a high-speed internet connection. I think I must leave before I am tempted to buy a pastry. It smells so good in here!

Silence on the rails.

On Friday I was riding the Caltrain with a friend to Palo Alto when we suddenly came to a stop. Over the loud speaker the attendants reported that there had been a fatality: we had hit a man on the tracks. After three hours and much confusion we moved on without learning much of what had happened or why, just that it was grizzly outside and we could not leave. Apparently this happens not infrequently.

Policy for the People!

Contrary to the title of this post, which sounds like something social worky and political, this is all about my fortune as told by my all-seeing-all-knowing roommate. A group of us Afro Housemates were standing around in the kitchen when my roommate intuited our futures--i think--from our present selves.

One of us will have a string of love affairs and play music in night clubs until a bout of melancholy leads to a spate of magnificent writing. Another will become a teacher outside his country of origin, have 3 children, and enjoy serendipidous financial security. Our maintenance manager will design something that will have a huge imapact, though he will receive recognition far after the fact; and he will find a happy marriage with a lifelong friend with whom he shared a relationship that he had long been unable to name. Our youngest house member will make it big and earn a lot of money quickly but will not find it fulfilling, later seeking ways to change the world (ala Bill Gates). She will be sought after by many men but only later in life will she find someone who treats her like a queen.

And me. I will work in policy, behind the scenes, to change the world for people. Someone will propose to me, but I will take a long time to consider it, then finally settle down with that person and have a long, happy marriage.

Not bad fortunes, all around. Spoken from our grimy kitchen with the industrial refridgerator humming in the backgroud, it will all happen. I think the cosmos look kindly upon coops.

We the Ginger People!

Rhymes With Orange, by Hilary B. Price, 12/5/05

(Under "THE UP^RISING" it reads "From the baking sheet to the city street!")

Heehee, I love comics.

Pie in the sky.

In spite of looming papers, I felt it necessary to reward my--what--three loyal readers with some juicy tidbit, this time in the form of strawberry-rhubarb pie. I went to a pie restaurant this evening for a food adventure. So it is American fare, I think, but that happens to include marinated ox tail and jello topped with mayonnaise! The restaurant is owned by a South American couple and staffed by Mexican and German waitresses. How more American can you get? Oh, and there was the pie. Tangy and sweet delight!
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To all my scholastic readers in the throes of finals, good luck compadres! The end is near and the prize in sight: a few weeks of lazy bliss!