Tangled

I remember seeing a trailer for Tangled several months ago and not really understanding what the movie was about.  It looked like another animated film that was more silly than anything else, with Rapunzel being redefined in a similar mold as Princess Fiona, the spunky, fights-her-own battles princess from Shrek.  So when Tangled was released recently, I didn't pay it much attention, and since Ebert didn't review it, didn't bother reading any of the reviews of Tangled.  But somehow, the movie overtook HP7 for the top box office spot, got a nearly 90% rating on Rotten Tomatoes, and ew started hearing about its merits by word-of-mouth.  And given that the film is animated, word-of-mouth was all ew really needed to convince her to get me to go see it with her.  So, contrary to what I usually do with movies I want to see, I just went and saw it.  No reviews beforehand, no plot synopsis, not even really aware of the cast members.  And I have to say, Tangled really surprised me.  In a good way.

Tangled really should have been pitched the way The Princess and the Frog was last year.  Maybe Disney was scared to because of the poor reception Princess and the Frog received, but Tangled really represents a return to the animated movies that we grew up with, from Little Mermaid to Beauty and the Beast, to Aladdin, to Lion King.  I'm as much of a Pixar fan as everyone else, but sometimes Pixar seems to be too self-aware, whether it's with pop culture references, moral messages, or a seriousness that animated films didn't have back in the day.  So it is refreshing to see a movie that takes us to a world where princesses fall in love, where ruffians and scoundrels are really soft inside, where magical kingdoms exist and prosper in peace (aside from the one deranged person).  Tangled represented all that made us fall in love with Disney: the path of self discovery in a slow, touching, emotional, and musical process.  It is really a movie that became quite beautiful, and has a scene and song that really rivals Kiss the Girls and Aladdin's magic carpet ride.

A Day in the Life of a PhD

I remember in undergrad, cy briefly dated his Italian TA, and after it ended, he told me to never date a PhD student, because they have no time for you and can be a little crazy.  And now that ew has finally completed her doctorate, I can say that there is some truth to cy’s assertion.  Obviously that didn’t deter me, as ew and I are now married, but there are some very important realities that I learned from dating a PhD student for over 5 years.

Not all doctors are created equal

Typically, we associate higher education with increased earning potential.  Especially when graduate school yields you the title of doctor.  However, this does not apply to PhD students.  In fact, earning a PhD probably has sapped most candidates of their earning potential, since the jobs awaiting a PhD essentially lead to more academic positions that pay very little, or an industry job that pays no more than someone who already has 5+ years of work experience.

Science inevitably must come first at some point

PhD students at some point HAVE to graduate.  They are bound in very low-salary positions to an advisor, lab, and/or collaborators that may drive them bananas.  Since research is actually ground-breaking, things don’t always work.  Projects don’t always go as hypothesized, dead-ends are fairly common, and there’s quite a bit of luck involved with finding a publishable topic.  Because of this, research can drag on for years before an actual dissertation is formed, and once you’re in the middle of research, it’s nearly impossible to start over and switch groups if you do find the work environment untenable.  So at some point, usually after 4 years, PhD candidates tend to think to themselves, “I am wasting away the prime years of my life with no earnings in this god-forsaken lab.  I have to graduate and get out of here.”  And so, science must come first.  A weekend trip is considered a visit to the lab, evenings are dominated by ways to figure out the proper chemistry or experimental design, nights are spent restlessly thinking about how to graduate.

PhDs are conflicted people

The appeal of a PhD is in fact working on things that no one else has done.  Research by nature is intended to make you feel stupid; if you do not feel stupid, then you are probably not doing any interesting work.  So the conundrum is that PhD students are generally smart people who do not like to feel stupid, yet they pursue a field that makes them feel stupid all the time.  Additionally, research does not pay well.  Companies will not fund nascent ideas, so research tends to be funded by governmental entities.  So there is no potential for upside of an IPO or buy out from a company; all intellectually property will be held by universities or national labs.  The only upside exists in the faint possibility of a Nobel Prize or similar name recognition among peers.  But again, PhDs see industry jobs as boring and unexciting, and thus seek a paradigm shift in the way the world treats new ideas.

I think the most important thing I learned about PhD students is that they need support.  Imagine starting a job that promised you the ability to indulge in your true passion in life, only to find out that your true passion is likely impossible to accomplish.  Then imagine that this job demanded you to always be thinking about it, work on the weekends, feel guilty about taking holidays, and barely paid you enough to live each month.  Then imagine that your work environment deteriorated to the point that you dreaded going into work every day, but you could not go search for another job because that would just restart the entire process you committed yourself to for the past few years.  And now imagine doing this as your first job out of school, and five years later, you’re in the same exact position while the rest of your friends you graduated with have moved forward with their lives such that they are working at jobs they either enjoy or at jobs that actually pay them money.  For those of us who did not earn a PhD, we’ll never truly understand the dedication, sacrifice, and effort it takes to graduate.  At work, I complain about making investments in environmental markets that don’t really have a framework.  For ew, she lived in a world that didn’t exist until she built it.  So yes, PhDs may be a little crazy sometimes, and they may not always focus on things outside their immediate world, but they’re essentially put in the worst work situation possible and somehow find their way out of it, usually with a new idea that can spur the advancement of something, no matter how niche or small it may seem.  And so, though ew says it was anticlimactic to condense 5 years of work into one 45 minute presentation, all I can say is that, those 45 minutes are more than I’ve contributed in the past 5 years.  Congrats ew, I couldn’t be more proud.

Nutcracker

This past weekend the gang and I went up to the Bay Area to kind of celebrate my birthday, but mainly to support st in his Nutcracker performance.  The quick birthday blurb is the restaurant that we ended up going to, a Japanese izakaya place called Tanto in Sunnyvale on El Camino, was quite exceptional.  The grilled octopus, the dashi soups, and the crab croquettes were highlights.  The roe pasta was also quite delicious.  But what made it exceptional was the price: definitely great value for the amount of food and alcohol we consumed; the portions were generally larger than I have seen at other izakaya places.

But the main event of the weekend was undoubtedly st's performance.  I hadn't actually seen a ballet performance since high school (which, incidentally was also the Nutcracker), so I wasn't sure what to expect.  Would I fall asleep like I usually do at the symphony?  Or would the visual aspect of the ballet keep me interested?  I did enjoy the ballet in Center Stage, but st repeatedly informed me that the ballet in Nutcracker really isn't anything special.  But would it even matter, considering that st was
performing as the Nutcracker prince?

A little background on st.  Despite his claims of doing tae kwon do, none of us have actually seen him show any sense of athleticism.  He tends to be afraid of the ball in ball sports, and he tends to be very lethargic and sleepy in everyday life.  Not to mention, he is quite afraid of interacting with other people, especially girls, so upon hearing of his casting as the titular character, most of us were quite surprised.  How would an unathletic, somewhat socially awkward, lethargic recluse demonstrate the necessary grace and emotion to connect with Clara and with the audience?

I think that st's willingness to even get this performance opportunity is quite contradictory to his normal character.  He didn't start learning ballet until he went back to Stanfurd for his masters and always maintained that he didn't want to showcase his skills (similar to dk, who still denies the spotlight with his piano playing).  So when he inquired whether to pursue a role in the Nutcracker, actually pursued it, and then actually accepted the titlular role, that showed incredible growth on his part.  And that is what this past weekend was really about.  To be comfortable with our inadequacies, but to try to better them, to try to change.  Maybe st wasn't the most graceful dancer out there, but he showed incredible passion and fluidity in his steps, and in that way, was brilliant in his performance.  It showed a sense of courage to let it all out there for others to see, a sense of vulnerability, and he did connect with the audience because of this, or at least his friends, who may have been skeptical at the begining, but at the end of it, were incredibly proud.  There was an article on Yahoo! Sports where Kobe was describing his mentality toward life, where you can either come out of things better than you are or you can crawl up like a coward into a little ball.  Oftentimes, st does the latter.  To see him do the former was what made the performance special. 

Thanksgiving

I always knew that I would end up writing something about California before I left it.  A list of all the food I would miss.  The city that I grew up in and rediscovered as an adult.  The city where I grew to become an adult.  The jobs I’ve had.  I may still get to all these topics, but as I came into Thanksgiving last week, I realized that leaving is more about the smaller moments.

Late fall in California is likely a bit different than other places in the states.  On the east coast, there are severe temperature drops and the first signs of winter.  But in California, especially in San Diego, we get cold, crisp air, but with a shining sun, which makes for some of the most beautiful days you’ll ever experience.  And as I left work the day before Thanksgiving, I found myself in the midst of one of those days, with Bruno Mars serendipitously coming on the radio in my car, and I realized that this was my last Thanksgiving for the foreseeable future.

For me, Thanksgiving has always been the holiday to look forward to.  My family often traveled around during Christmas time, so my sense of home has been entrenched with those four days in late November.  Since I’ve always been in California, I don’t think I’ve actually ever missed a Thanksgiving with my family.  Growing up, it was the comfort of turkey, mashed potatoes, and yams, a treat for someone who was accustomed to Chinese food every other day of the year.  Sometimes even a honey-baked ham, which could lead to omelets Thanksgiving morning.  In college, it was a time to reconnect with friends who went to different colleges.  Usually it’d be only that time of year to see people, as the longer spring, winter, and summer breaks kept people scattered.

And now, as ew and I begin something new together, Thanksgiving represents what I’ll likely miss the most about California.  That feeling of community, where the slow-pace of beautiful cold fall days reinforces the ties that we have built all our lives, from friends I’ve known since elementary school to family that has only grown since I’ve been with ew.  I know that ew and I will only expand our home, but for now, I can’t help but feel a sense of nostalgia as one more Thanksgiving has come and gone.

Japan, Part 2

While food was undoubtedly the focus of our days in Japan, we did have several other hours of the day where we had to do something to work up an appetite.   So below is a quick overview of activities that we ended up doing in Tokyo and Kyoto:

Tokyo

Tokyo reminds me very much like Taipei, but with more people.  The city is much larger than you may think, and it is built up of many different neighborhoods and districts.  I suppose I was anticipating something more similar to Hong Kong, but it is not nearly as compact and dense a city.  With that said, it really is much like any other big city.  It has its unique culture, especially with the Akihabara maid cafes and gothic Harajuku girls, but not so much to the caricature that we see here in the Western world.  There may indeed be crazy and weird Japanese people, but it doesn’t seem like it is any more so than in other cultures.  It may just actually be more acceptable in Japan.

There aren’t really many sights in Tokyo to take in, so it really is just shopping, walking around, and eating.  Tsujiki is one of the main draws, but for many Asians who are familiar with seeing seafood markets, it’s nothing that has to be a must-see.  It’s probably larger than any fish market I’ve seen, but the contents are not so different.

Kyoto

Kyoto is very much like an European city: lots of history with the culture and architecture, but at the same time, modern and comfortable.  It is a beautiful city in this respect, as there are old sections of town that keep the traditional Japanese feel, with Japanese gardens and temples that offer peaceful and stunning views.  Kyoto is probably best experienced walking around aimlessly (as it is known as the walking city), particularly in the Higashiyama area.  You can catch glimpses of geishas while strolling the old streets, while also stopping for those super-sweet Kyoto desserts and maybe a cone of green tea ice cream.  Ew and I spent a day just wandering around that area, and actually spent one night in Ryokan Motonago in Southern Higashiyama.  Ryokans are traditional Japanese inns, where rooms are defined by how many tatami mats cover the floor.  The room serves as a place to sit and eat, and then the futon beds are made up for sleeping.  Ew and I had our kaiseki meal here, as we were dressed in our yakutas and had, I believe, thirteen courses brought to our room.  Each course was presented in its own particular lacquerware and arranged on our “eating tray.”  The meal was focused on fish and vegetables, and while ew couldn’t quite handle all of that fish, it was quite the experience.  Combine the feel of the inn with a traditional dinner, followed by a bath onsen-style, and you end up having one of the most memorable evenings in any hotel.

The rest of our time in Kyoto was spend mostly on the outskirts of the city, in Arashiyama and Kurama.  We went to Arashiyama to see the bamboo forest, and while very peaceful and pleasant, I’m not sure if it’s as must-do as Lonely Planet makes it out to be.  The trip out there only takes about half an hour to forty-five minutes though, and there is a very nice garden at the temple next to the bamboo forest.  In Kurama, we made the journey to see the fire festival and to also go to the onsen.  I think if there’s one thing that the Japanese have contributed to this world, it’s the beauty of bathing.  With the minerals in the hot springs, the peaceful gardens and environs of the outdoors, and the wooden stools for the sit-down showers, I can’t think of a better way to relax away an afternoon.  Ew definitely disagrees with me here, as she always claims she doesn’t know what she’s supposed to be doing, but that’s the point, it’s supposed to be a time to do nothing.  However, because it was the day of the fire festival, the onsen was particularly crowded, which did make it much less relaxing.  With respect to the fire festival, I think what I’ve learned is that festivals are pretty much the same wherever you go.  If you’re interested in seeing something culturally from an outsider perspective that you may not truly understand, then they’re worth the effort; otherwise, it’s very similar to watching something like the Disneyland parade.

Japan, Part 1

When ew and I were debating on where to go after the wedding, we looked at two very different places: Japan and Chile.  Both seemed enticing, Japan for its cuisine and modern cities, and Chile for its spectacular scenery.  But the weather wasn’t quite right for a trip to Patagonia in October, and ultimately, Japan was picked out of a hat more times.

We only had a week to work with, so we decided to limit our visit to two places: Tokyo and Kyoto.  I think in general, staying 3-4 days in a city is probably too long, but we didn’t want to be in a rush due to time constraints, and that’s what always seems to happen to us when we try to do everything in a limited timeframe.  It’s also somewhat comforting knowing you don’t have to check in and out of a different hotel every day.  I’ve discovered that with travel, everything seems to sound interesting, so usually decisions must be made on what not to do.

As a caveat, ew and I usually use Lonely Planet guides when we travel.  Lonely Planet tends to do well with developing countries, as information is not readily available on the Internet, and we typically aren’t familiar with the culture of the places we visit.  The maps are usually the most invaluable tool, as well as lodging suggestions.  But in developed countries, I’m not sure the Internet isn’t the best resource.  We did pick up the guide for Japan, but we found most of our lodging online, with several of the places we booked ultimately not in Lonely Planet, and we rarely used the guide for food options.  (Quick tangent here: Lonely Planet food options tend to be the least helpful in my opinion; they are very cognizant of the need for Western palettes, so oftentimes, you may end up in a restaurant that is strictly visited by tourists using the Lonely Planet guide.)  We did use the guide to figure out some of our day to day activities, though the hotels we stayed at were actually very accommodating in providing maps that have popular tourist attractions on them.

With that said, our trip was mostly revolved around food anyway, and sampling the many different types of food that Japan has to offer.  Ew made a bold claim beforehand that she could likely eat Japanese food every day, but after spending a week there, I think she realized how maritime Japan actually is and how much fish is a central part of their diet.  One good thing about Japan is that even though they hardly speak any English, all the menus typically have pictures!  So you can just point and you usually end up receiving what you think you ordered.  The bad part is the cheapest meal will cost you around 700 Yen, and that’s a cheap bowl of ramen.  Unless of course you eat fast food type meals.  Below is a breakdown of the different types of cuisine we sampled:

Ramen

Coming from Chinese culture where noodle soup plays an integral part of our lives, ramen was obviously at the top of the list for ew and me.  This was actually the only thing we ate more than once in Japan, and to confirm what others have said, it is much better in Japan than the states.  I think the most noticeable difference is in the noodle quality.  This was evident in both places we tried, Da Yei in Kyoto and Mutekiya in Ikebukuro in Tokyo.  The other difference is the broth.  I think most ramen broth that is favored in the states is the rich, tonkotsu broth.  This was Mutekiya’s broth, and the Japanese version is actually similar to the version in the states.  But what the states really lack are the simpler broths, like the Shoyu one we had at Da Yei.  Shoyu in the states lacks the same depth of flavor as in Japan, and that’s a shame because who is always in the mood for such a rich tonkotsu broth?

Tempura

The good thing about Japanese cuisine is that restaurants tend to specialize.  There isn’t a whole lot of variety on the menus, as restaurants tend to only serve tempura, soba, ramen, etc.  Ew and I only went to one specialty tempura restaurant (at Seibu department store in Shibuya in Tokyo), but did have tempura as part of some other set meals.  The first noticeable part of tempura in Japan is that you always get the grated daikon for the tempura sauce.  Why can we not do that here?  It adds a nice subtle flavor to the sauce.  The other noticeable part is that you can actually taste what has been battered and fried.  The panko on tempura is very light, and the focus is really on the main ingredient.  It also helps that when they bring the tempura out, the chef himself brings it out to your table and places the tempura directly from his fryer to your plate.

Izakaya

Ew and I went to izakaya the first night we arrived in Tokyo, to a place called Toriyoshi in Ginza that specializes in chicken (the Tori part).  As many of you know, I have a special place in my heart for San Tung chicken wings, but the wings at Toriyoshi may be even better.  It’s a much subtler flavor than the San Tung wings, but still very complex and very delicious.  I also think the ambiance here was delightful.  The taking off of shoes with the tatami mats, the sliding screen doors … it felt very traditional yet modern Japanese.

Kaiseki

One of the most fun and elegant meals I’ve ever had.  This is more about experience than food itself, and I will describe in more detail later on.

Shabu Shabu

From a food perspective, the best meal that ew and I had in Japan (and actually is way up there for one of best meals of my life).  My aunt r happens to live around Tokyo, and she took us to get Shabu Shabu in Shinjuku (will update soon with a name, but it is a local chain I believe with a location at least in Akasaka, though the Shinjuku appears to be the only non-smoking location).  We began the meal with some delicious first courses centered around matsutake mushrooms, followed by sashimi and tempura.  At that point, ew and I were already getting a little full and wondering whether we were actually still doing shabu shabu.  But the shabu shabu finally did come, and I’m not sure anything is better than marbled beef dipped in peanut sauce.  Follow that up with tofu and vegetables in yuzu, ramen noodles, and chestnut ice cream, and I’m not sure if Chinese hot pot can even compare anymore.

Sushi

Japan has a lot of the conveyor belt sushi that we didn’t try, but we did go to the Tsujiki fish market the first morning we were in Tokyo and engaged in a 7 AM sushi breakfast.  While the fish was very fresh and very good, I’m not sure our bodies were accustomed to eating fish that early in the morning.  It basically ruined us for lunch, as we ended up just eating bread on our train from Tokyo to Kyoto.

Bentos

Technically, we ate this meal twice, as we brought one on the plane back to the states, but these are essentially boxed lunch sets that we discovered on the bullet train from Tokyo to Kyoto.  After seeing everyone eating one, we vowed to get one for our return trip back to Tokyo.   They aren’t actually very cheap (around 800 to 1,000 Yen), but they come with a variety of fish, vegetables, sometimes meat, and rice, and obviously the biggest draw for ew is that everything is compartmentalized.

Tonkatsu

On a recommendation from ew's cousin, we went to a place called Tonki that specializes in tonkatsu.  Tonki is in Ebisu in Tokyo, and they only serve two things: hire-katsu and rohsu-katsu.  Hire is a lean cut of tenderloin, rohsu is a fattier cut.  It's an open kitchen with essentially bar seating around it, and it is a magical place to have a meal.  Seeing the presumed owner seemingly memorize the order of guests and their order (no need to sign in), and then having probably the best tonkatsu you'll ever have: lightly breaded, not too oily, with the focus on the tenderloin accompanied with some tonkatsu sauce and mustard.  Top that off with finely shredded cabbage that the staff is very willing to refill (as well as the rice and miso soup apparently), and you have that great balance of freshnesss with the cabbage and the meatiness of the fried pork.

If you don’t like it in the U.S., you won’t like it in Japan

Lonely Plant really pumps up certain cuisines that you feel obligated to try.  But I think this may be for people who haven’t tried those cuisines at all, because what I did learn in Japan is, the food is not so different where if you don’t like it in the U.S., you will suddenly like it elsewhere.  (The one exception to this may be soy milk, which somehow tastes unbelievably good in Asia but unbelievably bland in the U.S.)  So with apologies to unagi, yakiniku, and soba, they are pretty much what they are. And after discovering this fact after eating unagi, we opted not to eat okonomiyaki.  A quick word on yakiniku and soba: it’s not so much that we don’t enjoy those cuisines, but with yakiniku, Korean bbq seems like such a better deal, especially since you get the small dishes, and with soba, we’d just rather eat ramen.

Best Weekend Ever

So it’s been a while since I’ve posted anything.  It was a busy month of October, with the wedding and trip to Japan, and then getting resettled back to reality.  I’m not sure where to pick up, so I’ll just go through the past 12 months of planning that ultimately resulted in the best weekend ever.

There are lots of things to worry about for a wedding.  Big details like the venue and vendors.  Little details like escort cards, table settings, schedule.  And there’s the worry of coordinating all these details between the vendors and venue and friends and family helping out.  This is why people say you should pay for a coordinator.  But at the end of the day, I’m not sure if you really need one.  Our venue had a recommended vendor list, and everyone had worked together extensively off this list, so our caterer and DJ really helped coordinate the schedule and events of the day.  They talked to our photographer, the people making toasts, and the venue to make everything flow seamlessly.  There are little details like setting up favors and table settings, but those tasks are generally things family and friends are more than happy to do.  The only spot where a coordinator may have been useful is in the ceremony, but really, once you get someone who can cue the musician, it’s not very necessary.

Food is important.  So many weddings are stereotyped with having bad wedding food.  But if there is good food, I think people are generally happier and it always seems like a big, pleasant surprise.  A lot of venues these days have food prepared on site; our venue let us hire a caterer, which I believe is the way to go, because (1) they specialize in food, and (2) allowing some competition only makes the quality better.

Apparel can be a nightmare.  Not just men’s apparel but female apparel.  For men, apparently Men’s Wearhouse has some form of monopoly on tux rentals.  And despite giving them explicit instructions on what the groomsmen are wearing and taking size measurements, they still manage to screw up.  If we didn’t try on the apparel early, we wouldn’t have had time to get the alterations done.  My jacket and pants would have been too short, cl would have had MC Hammer pants, and ay would have had a shirt two sizes too big for him … wait, ay didn’t have time to get alterations.  And this doesn’t even speak to the nightmare that was the bridesmaid dress.  For females, what is the point of taking measurements, wait six months for the dress, and have to alter it anyway?  This makes absolutely no sense.  Ew was able to find a dress in Hong Kong, alter it to her size, and take it home within 2 days.  I’m pretty sure Hong Kong is not any more developed than the U.S.  And back to the bridesmaid dress, never, I repeat, never order from Bari Jay.  Not only did their dresses come in the wrong size, they claimed no responsibility and when ew complained to the BBB, they actually tried to fight ew on that claim.

Sometimes you have to let things go.  Nothing will happen exactly the way you imagine it will.  People always say that, and you kind of half-heartedly acknowledge it, but this is a truth that everyone should come to grips with.  Is one caterer worth 2x more than the other one?  Does the photographer really need to come an hour and a half out of the way to capture certain shots for half an hour?  Do all Chinese traditions need to be followed exactly?  The groomsmen boutonnieres may be the wrong color.  The bustle may not be high enough for the dance.  Shoes for the other dress may have been forgotten.  Table arrangements may look different from when you picture it on a piece of paper.  Photographs may not have captured every single aspect of the wedding.  I’ll admit, it’s hard letting everything go.  Everyone has a vision for what they want and this day only happens once.  But when I think about the day, my best memories don’t come from these little details.  All of that eventually becomes a blur.  What I remember is the emotional warmth of the day, from celebrating a truly momentous occasion with people who are there to support you.

Family and friends are the most important part of a wedding.  Ew and I had talked about how we didn’t want to deal with the stress of planning a wedding, from managing our vendors to appeasing our parents’ requests.  We talked about how eloping actually seemed like a fairly nice option; and after hearing the perspectives of many others, eloping did seem like a good choice.  But if I did it all over again, I don’t think the wedding would have been the best weekend ever without family and friends.  Ew and I are fairly private in our relationship.  We don’t really have public displays of affection; we don’t call each other pet names in public.  Eloping seems like it might have fit our personalities better.  We don’t like being the center of attention (at least ew doesn’t).  But ew’s cousin told us, “this isn’t a show, everyone’s here to support you,” and that’s what you have to realize.  All the attempts at appeasing everyone, of making sure the food and music are good, that guests are comfortable … all those people ultimately don’t care as much about that stuff as they do about being a part of the wedding celebration (at least if they are true family and friends).  And that’s what makes a wedding a wedding, from the help of liz’s family, to the ceremony performed by my sister, to the skit from the groomsmen, to the attention to detail by the bridesmaids, to the joyous smiles of family and friends seeing people dear to them get married.  And that’s how a private couple ends up being the center of a circle while Bruno Mars’s “Just the Way You Are” plays with everyone singing and holding each other, cherishing our bonds of friendship and love.