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The unwritten rule that only economic phenomena be considered in economic models, with agents as individuals, selfish maximizing, restrict the range of economic theory and in some cases even cause the economic profession to appear peculiarly absurd – because without relaxation of these rules, certain almost indisputable economic facts, such as the existence of involuntary unemployment become inconsistent with economic theory."

George Akerlof, An Economic Theorist’s  book of tales.

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Songs: 'Every Road' by Shari Ulrich, and 'St. Elmo's Fire (Man in Motion)' by David Foster and John Parr

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# of news items I've read/ listened to/ watched about anthrax scare/ war against terrorism: almost nil. Not interested. Ignorance is bliss is my attitude regarding this topic.

Did you see that commercial of all these male toy soldiers with toy war tanks, machine guns and chains of bullets? Ridiculous. Glorifying war. What idiot parents will buy these for their kids?

Some snippets of my life since last entry:

• Ice skating with the niece (a bust b/c they didn't have metal bars for kids so we used a pylon/orange cone), talking to a Ba'hai Iranian man with limited English about the Taliban, watching my niece (the kid who never speaks to any other kid) opening up and playing with his grandson (the kid who speaks to everyone). Unfortunately, they're not in the same preschool class.
• Wondering whether I'm wrong re: agreeing with Sunera Thobani's speech; thinking that if Thobani can be accused of inciting hatred against the US for publicly criticizing US foreign policy, then all right-wing newspaper columnists could be accused of inciting hatred against people who don't share their beliefs too.
• Watching Obachan's Garden, feeling damn guilty about not having attended my own great-grandmother's 100th b-day last year. In the docu-drama, they showed the Obachan (Japanese for grandmother) Asayo Murakami refusing to attend her own 100th b-day celebrations as her large extended family waited for her. Instead, she sat by herself in the dining room of her nursing home. Before the film started, Murakami's great-granddaughter Caitlin, dressed in a kimono, went up onto the stage and played 2 open-A notes on Asayo's old violin. Then the director Linda Ohama (Asayo's granddaughter) said a few words and then picked up a fuschia scarf/ obi and wrapped it around her neck before she descended the stairs. Later on during the film, you see the significance of the violin (Murakami's best friend in Canada) and the obi (just sth Japanese and which was displayed throughout the film to help along in the transition of the story, which took five years to make). After the film, Ohama, her daughter Caitlin, her parents, and her now 103 year-old grandmother went up onto the stage. About 30 minutes later, as my friend and I were eating at Kitto House (to keep up with the Jap theme for the day), I spied Ohama walking by with her daughter and another relative. I smiled at her and she smiled back. Don't know whether she recognized me from the theatre or whether she just spied my dog-eared copy of the Film Fest program guide on the table or whether she was just being polite, but it was a nice moment. (Ohama is on the board of Uzume Taiko Society, whose performance I had seen two weeks ago.)
• Apparently, despite the tremendous variety of films at the Vancouver INTERNATIONAL Film Fest, the only films that I've seen are Canadian ones whose directors are Asian or mainland Chinese films. I still have very narrow interests. The Chinese films that I saw made me feel guilty about how I'm lucky enough to live in the West and have all these opportunities in life, yet I'm not fully taking advantage of them. Guilt, guilt, guilt:
  • Roots and Branches -Melodramatic, cried more than I have ever cried in my life in a theatre. Felt I should've seen it with a boyfriend or someone really close. Instead, I sat amongst strangers, with no tissue. The white man to my right actually laughed at a really poignant part too! I hadn't heard any sniffles or seen anyone dabbing their eyes with a tissue, so I thought I was the only one crying. But when I went to the ladies' room afterward, I was pleased to see a long line of women with puffy eyes. I especially could relate to the eldest son who turned out to be a cabbie in Beijing. As he was the eldest, he wasn't adopted by anyone when his parents died when they were young. He was a loner who always got into fights. It was him against the world. And I actually didn't know whether his sister, who had been adopted and moved to the US would accept him once she returned to China as an adult to guest conduct an orchestra.  The four kids used to be so tight-knit and now they were strangers to each other. I was just sucked right in - didn't feel my emotions was manipulated at all. My favourite film this year. (The father is played by the "father of Chinese punk rock"!) 
  • Beijing Bicycle - just ok. Could've emphasized the snobbery and lack of respect of urbanites for people from the countryside of China more. Just a movie about teenage bullies. Not really into watching teenagers act.
• bike riding along the trails of Stanley Park to Beaver Lake, across the overpass overlooking the causeway, to Prospect Point and dying from the climb uphill. I'm completely out of shape.
• Fooling around w/ a violin
• Tennis: Once at night. The lights shone on only 2 of the 12 courts there. Surrounded on one side by a bunch of tall condo towers and on the other sides by the dark forest. The two of us playing, shrouded in darkness. Very cool. All that was missing was a coyote. The other time, same location but during the daytime. It had rained the day before, so there were still some puddles on the courts. Found a rag to wipe. Someone brought a broom, which was borrowed by others. A community of die-hard tennis fans there. I think I have a regular tennis partner now. Afterward, she treated me to a drink (watermelon slush with coconut meat) and then I bought some pre-marinated Korean BBQ beef. Expensive. Next time, I'll just make my own as long as I can find such thinly sliced sirloin at the store. It seems easy. Instead of adding salt with the soy sauce, it's all about using lots of sugar with the soy sauce.
• Envying: people who can draw so amazingly well in class, and admiring the people in the next studio who are in a Beginning to Paint class but can copy master paintings already (e.g. Mona Lisa, etc.)! I've set up a page recording what we've done so far in Drawing Class.