Today I got another biandong for 45NT$.  As I was eating my chicken thigh and picking out the bits of meat stuck in the joints, a random thought occured to me: If we were to witness the animal slaughtered, actually witness it lose its life for our gain, then perhaps, we would be less wasteful with food.

Nowadays, we don’t kill our own chickens anymore. My grandma used to chop off the head, drain the blood, and plucked its feathers and such. But times have changed. We go to the supermarket and buy it from the meat section, or order a ten piece from KFC. Being so removed from chicken deaths, when we mindlessly down another drumstick, it’s quite easy to forget that it once was part of something living, breathing, and … gobbling. It’s only when we’re reminded of that fact, that we appreciate it more. This is the value of life. And this reminds me of so many tangential ideas: Christ’s sacrifice, abortion…. Such is the power of chicken talk.

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Joyce had her first encounter with me sleep-talking last night. This is how the conversation went.

Joyce walking into the bedroom. I’m already sleeping. Apparently, I turn over to her, still asleep and say:

S: “Oh no!”
J: thinking I’m awake, “What Sam?”
S: “There’s icing inside the cockpit!”
J: “What?”
S: “There’s icing inside the cockpit!”
J: “What?”
S: “There’s icing inside the cockpit!”
J: realizing I am asleep. “Oh, are we in a plane?”
S: “Yeah”
J: “Oh where are we going?”
S: “…I don’t know…”
J: “So, what are you going to do about it?”
S: “About what?”
J: “The icing.”
S: “Oh,” pause for thought, “I’ll lick it.” then I turned over to face the other side.

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Just wanted to share a recent blessing.

Joyce got into a car accident last night on I-287 and US22. It happened really fast, but what Joyce recalls is that an 18-wheeler was changing lanes and side-swiped her causing her to spin, hit the divider, and then wind up on the other shoulder. Really, thank God, she’s perfectly alright–pretty miraculous. No whiplash, no concussion, no bruises, nothing. So all praises be to God!

In addition, I am eternally grateful for the brothers who helped her out last night. Her car was totaled, but these young men came to the rescue. Thank you for your love.

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I’m a week late, but happy new year to you!

I recently came back from a two and a half week trip to Taiwan. Still a bit jet lagged.

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On Saturday, when I was in the San Jose area, I went to the mall with Joyce and her mom. Apparently, every time she goes to the mall in California she gets a hot dog on a stick and a lemonade. (I think the chain is only found in California.) When I inquired further, she said it’s a fond childhood memory and tradition. She’s always done it since she was a little girl. Her face definitely lit up when she ate it.

When her mom reiterated this story a bit later, I started thinking about what foods I would definitely get if I were to go back to NJ. Though nothing from my childhood came to mind, the first thing that occurred to me was the grease trucks at Rutgers, haha. I think I can always eat a fat night. And since today I had a McDonald’s Fish-O-Filet, I’m reminded that if I were to go back to UIUC, I would totally get the Friday fish sandwich at Derald’s catering truck. So yummy. I guess I have an affinity to food trucks. Looks like they raised the price though. It was $3.50 when I was a student there.

Ah…to be a student again.

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