Snow footprints

I absolutely enjoy putting in my footprints on fresh pristine snow. There's so many emotions attached to that simple act, I can't begin to explain it. It probably stems from my slightly obsessive attitude towards order, I haven't figured it out yet!

I can sit hours looking at the snow fall on the side-walks, on the grass, on what was once the road and not bother doing anything else. The act of looking back and seeing your footprints or rather I must say shoe-prints is exhilarating, uplifting, simple as it may be.

Try it, it sure will give you a good feeling.

Here's a slightly skewed measurement of the snow we got this past weekend.

The lone glove

There she was sitting in the bottom drawer; she keeps longing and hoping that she finds her better half. She looked all around her and found another one just not like her, she was black, and the other was red, a little longer too. The black glove couldn’t quite fathom why she wasn’t discarded? It’s not like she could be matched with the red glove!

Yet, she still has hope, maybe when her owner rummages through her couch, she’ll find the one missing glove or maybe she’ll buy another pair just like her or maybe she’ll learn to live!

Come winter and I find myself missing a glove, so now I have two single gloves, I can’t discard them. What if it is a serendipity situation as unlikely as it may seem? Maybe I should also write my number on a 5$ bill before using it at the grocery store too.

Of course the attachment to the gloves is not as much to the head cap I lost a few days ago, the only one I’ve really bonded with, the one I’ve possessed since my sister gave it to me years ago, from the hills of kodaikanal.

This usually happens with socks, not to me though, maybe I’m more careful with socks, it could be the fact that I have a few that are all the same and it won’t matter if I miss one, 3 exact same socks will still make a pair, no?

And then there are those pretty earrings, about 4 dangling single earrings and again they can’t be worn mismatched. Maybe I’ll find the second one, maybe I won’t.

C'est La Vie

And as long as it does not hit the fan, it’s all good and even if it does hit the fan, as long as it does not hit you, it’s all good and even if it does hit you as long as you can clean up good, then it’s all good, maybe it was even worth it, maybe you’ve learned something, maybe it will enrich you!

That’s 2009 for me.

Spending the first four months of the year in my hometown sparked some much needed realization, re-thinking and resolutions. In retrospect, I think the initial charm of working in Mangalore had just started wearing off. It was an almost annihilation vs acclimatization scenario at work too.

Then the assignment, having heard of the single street, desi dominated culture, I was kinda prepared for what I was getting into. However I really got off the wrong foot on the start of the trip itself with trying to postpone the trip by a week so that I could cast my vote in the Loksabha elections (missed polling day by 3 days). I think it was disappointing with my enthusiasm for administration and politics at their zenith during the time especially considering the efforts to oust ‘anti-secular’ candidates, not that it was successful in the end and not that my vote would have made a difference to the result!

I did not particularly enjoy playing the lead role that was forcefully thrust on me in the movie that was titled with a literal definition of being taking for a ride in Mumbai and then having to deal with the most arrogant staff at the ATL airport was just over the top! Thanks to them, I missed my connecting flight and was subsequently on stand-by for 3 more and then had to spend a day in Atlanta, all this after a painful 17 hr journey plus the 15 hours in transit!

From the Pacific Northwest to Northwest Arkansas, the differences are stark. Of course, it’s not the geographies of a place that make or break you, it is the people. Nothing much changes at the workplace and even if it does, I don’t want to dwell on it here. Slightly averse to workplace friendships, looking back, it’s been a good year with friendships and despite all the long distance friends I have, I can count at least one good friend here.

Where would I be without my long distance friends? Be it the innumerable travel tales or the little pieces of advice on health-care, the constant cribbing about your ex employer or ex girlfriend, the countless pictures from every single occasion back home, the process of learning to climb trees while rediscovering myself in the most surreal ways, smiling more and being a part of me while I made sure my glass is always half full (be it with wine or vodka or more recently whisky!) . You’ve stood by me through the rain and snow, you are very much appreciated. And to my sister, you are beautiful in every single way, you are loved.

If you blame me for the decisions you made in life, fine. Get on with it, move on, I still love you, there’s no two ways about it.

To my two best friends who are expecting babies on the very same day and coincidentally on my ma’s birthday, I wish you the very best and to my friend who’s facebook status can no longer say ‘single and complicated!’ you’ll be okay, you have a beautiful future ahead of you and don't forget the enlightenment you still owe us ;’). To all that’s been amiss in 2009 may it find its right path, to each of you, to all that you do in this year, may it make you happy, may you have no regrets and at the end of the day, take the time to wait for the smile that the eyes began and keep smiling.

And now this sounds like a speech! Happy New Year 2010.

Feliz Natal

Merry Christmas to you all.

May this season serve as a reminder that the old has passed, there’s a new beginning.
It's a time for rejoicing in all that we see
A time for living, a time for believing
A time for trusting, not deceiving
A time for giving, a time for getting
A time for forgiving and for forgetting
A time for hating and fighting to cease.

Good Morning USA

'The best part of life is when your family becomes your friends and your friends become your family' -

What struck me the most about this report? certainly not the fact that Diane Sawyer is quitting GMA but rather the above remark. Is that what we aspire for? probably not, not consciously for sure but inevitably it happens and the journey people make from friends to family and vice-versa is truly remarkable and one to be cherished.

The few moments before I get on to the daily drudgery of work these past few years, I've spent with GMA, the drone from the show's anchors, Sawyer included have kept me company while preparing that cup of chai, through grabbing a quick breakfast or skipping it, through checking email and on those rare ocassions of searching for the keys!

Of course, I like the drone, it is very info-entertaining and will continue to be the show I watch in the morning, (if the cable works!) the little tidbits, the music and the little break for the local station with the weather which helps me make that oh-so-important-decision of 'Do I need to carry my tall umbrella to work!'

Deja vu

I'm still around, for anyone still checking! and of course, of late my thoughts are limited to 140 characters, not more. The word hectic is such a good excuse, I always use it as an excuse for not returning someone's call after having not called in the first place for months, for not crossing off items on my to-do list, for not cooking... well, you get my point, the list is endless.

And then there was the move, that was really hectic!

The best time of the year is here and if I ever get down to buying a Christmas tree then there'll be some pictures, if not there will be some thoughts if not in 200 words, then in 140 characters for sure.

What is my middle name?

I could probably have a number of middle-names associated with me but for today, ‘procrastinator’ seems to fit me just fine!

It is Sunday’s like this when I have no clue where I am headed, not that Monday’s are any better! I don’t really want to ‘set the world on fire’, not just yet but often times when a ‘choti si asha’ goes up in flames it’s probably time to start over, reassess or not. Could going with the flow take you anywhere?. Life of course takes the path that it’s destined to take however ever, whatever ever we may do to change it's course.

I admire people who can admit to what they are feeling, to just get done with it! I could do that on my anonymous blog but never where people know me! Bottled up would have described me perfectly for most of my life, but probably not as much anymore and despite all I am a through and through sucker for happy endings.

The list on the left can’t be comprehensive; one very important item is missing and maybe a million others ... I’ll probably redo it when I need another excuse for procrastination like today!

what might've been

Was watching an old episode of One Tree Hill yesterday and was struck by this voice-over.

'It has been said that the saddest thing a man (or woman for that matter) will ever face is "what might've been". But what if a man is faced with what was, or what may never be, or what could no longer be? Choosing the right path is never easy, it is a decision we make with only our hearts to guide us. But sometimes we find our way to something better, sometimes we fight through the regret and the remorse of our mistakes, our malice and our jealousy and the shame we feel for not being the people we were meant to be and that's when we find our way to something better or when something better finds its way to us'

An Engineer's hippocratic oath

Our convocation was held on Dec 8th, appropriately there was some kind of celebration in office too complete with a gourmet dinner, of course I did not think twice before skipping it! It's also the feast of Immaculate Conception, which is celebrated on quite a lavish scale in one of the parishes in Mangalore city.

We paraded around in our graduation gowns, ready to throw our caps in the air and posed for all those photographs although I must admit to have not seeing the output! Then came the dinner and most importantly the feeling that this part of the journey of our lives was just about done.

I don't quite remember if this was the exact version of the Engineer's oath we took, 'I solemnly pledge myself to consecrate my life to the service of humanity...', however since the person standing next to me seemed to have made up his own version of the oath, I think I was grinning silly more than actually reciting the oath!

It was an honor to receive the graduation medal and certificate from Dr. H.S Ballal and Dr. Ramadas Pai(I hope I've got the names right!)

Who lived in 110?

Apparently, no one did, until we came along! I think it was a last minute allocation. The room was tinier than a jail cell, seriously! okay, I have not spent a day in a jail cell, but I am willing to bet it was!

Anyway, it did not matter, we had the best of neighbors and it was still the I Block and we could get to the common phone with ease! Despite all, I think I spent the least amount of time in the hostel in my second year!

The one particular memory I have is of our attempt at cooking aloo curry in our room, now why on earth would we attempt to cook anything that had aloo in it, while the mess had an eternal supply of that particular brand of vegetable, is beyond my comprehension. I think we spent more time arguing on whether the onions needed to be washed before cutting and cooking them, than the actual cooking time and you can guess which side I was on!

That's pretty much for the pictures of the rooms we lived in, in MIT unless someone is willing to enter the nicer New Ladies Hostel or the Old Ladies Hostel (that name cracks me up to this day, there's a comma in there somewhere... you can decide where to put it!) to click pics of our rooms there!

If tomorrow never comes

A familiar face was missing when I went back home the last time, my grandma passed one day before I was scheduled to depart from the US, her favorite line to me was 'mote jaije, yeh burgainche jevan!' (you should become fat, this morsel of food is for kids). As much as you think you may be prepared, you can never anticipate how death affects you.

This is almost another one of those morbid sounding posts, so stop if any talk about death scares you! I have been pondering this thought since a few weeks, how fascinating would it be to write your own obituary? Ted Kennedy Jr, delivered a beautiful eulogy for his Dad, no doubt he wrote it by himself, however was there anything else his Dad really wanted to say about himself, his final word?

If I were to write an obit and knowing me, you'd probably need to take out a full page in Udayavani or Rakno (Konkani weekly)! The best part it's a work in progress, I can keep editing it.

That brings me to another thought, as I was writing about MIT and Manipal and all the growing up we did there, I realized that the memory of receiving that call on that fateful Sunday morning of Easter was still crystal clear in my mind, although the conversation itself wasn't. It was ironically the day before April fool's day, the day before our sessionals.

How unfortunate is it for a young girl to write an ode for her friend while still in college? (It was published in the year book along with his sister's own eulogy). I remember trying to confirm that it was the Sujit I knew, since there were many other kids with the same name in their class. The church bells were ringing and my tall lanky friend from Sunday Catechism was no more. The circumstances were unfortunate and it affected almost our entire batch. The service drew hundreds of our batch-mates and our Late Parish Priest (who spent most of his life as a principal of a college) had his heart in the right place when he almost gave us all a lecture on how to live a good life, how not to disappoint the people who love us.

Having studied in an only girls school, Sunday Catechism class was our first opportunity at male friends and he was among the first, the last bench of the notorious girls! vs the last bench of the troublemaker boys! One each from each row have already passed on to a different world. From awkward teens to competitors in coaching class to drifting apart ever so slightly in a professional college environment, yet managing to catch up on some of those hour and a half journeys into College on those early Monday mornings.

I'm sure they are all in a better place today, we will all be... one day.

A penny for me and a dollar for you

I was at the clubhouse today with an intention to watch the game (federer vs djokovic) on the big screen tv, but since someone else was watching some other game I decided to wait it out by the computers with my book for company. That's when I noticed them, a small baby sleeping soundly in her pram beside her Dad who seemed focused on noting down telephone numbers and filling in multiple forms online. On a closer look, I realized he was going through local employment classifieds online. I did not want to pry, but was close enough to see his screen without meaning to.

Anyway, when I decided to get out of there, he noticed me and brought a smile upto his face by way of greeting and as if on cue the baby started fussing a bit. As luck would have it, he seemed done and he greeted me verbally and started a conversation. Information was revealed that his daughter was 4 months old and that he was going to be out of a job next week and hence was looking for work. There was no mention of the lady but I'd like to assume she was back in the apartment. Southerners are known for their strong family bonding, more than the rest of America.

He spoke about health-care, struggling to make ends meet yet his attitude was positive, cheerful despite his plight. I know there are a lot of people in similar, maybe worse shoes the world over, but he chose to talk about it to me, there are so many such heartbreaking stories I've come across out of my limited volunteering work, yet each one touches you more than the other. I found myself praying to God so that he finds a good job and that they are kept in good health. That is all I could do today... unfortunately.

Bhagi Monthiche fest

Not wanting to sound redundant, I searched through my archives and found that I had posted twice before on September 8th. Well, the titles are pretty strange! but then they were not specific to this feast.

Of finger licking!, Eating right? I think I should start reading into my archives more often, it should provide an insight into what I was cooking, writing about back then ;'), probably not very different from now? Anyway, that in itself proves that this feast is a pretty big deal, more like was for me right now! although back home it still is.

You know the drill! kids offering up flowers in procession, the distribution of stalks of paddy and then sugarcane to the kids, preparing the novem jevan out of the rice distributed in the church and coconut milk (a specific combination of thick and thin), odd numbered dishes of vegetarian food and finally the most important of all, the entire family eating together. More than the event that this feast celebrates, it is the linkage with the harvest festival that makes it an event for the mangalorean Catholics, much like Onam, Pongal in other regions. No special significance is attached to the day here in the US and there is no special mass either.

This is where I digress from the topic in the title of the post, like I do ever so often! 

September 8th was like a July 16^th, the feast of Mt. Carmel, the day when we attended Mass and received brown scapulars or it was like those First Friday's of every month when the non-catholic students would get to play and we had to go to the church nearby for Mass. Teacher Joyce would macho up and be the pretend policewoman with her stud moves (hand signals to stop the traffic)! It was a sight to behold, a short petite teacher holding up traffic at a busy junction for minutes and queues and queues of girls in blue uniforms crossing the road! or the times when we had to mandatorily attend the 'Way of the Cross' on friday's of Lent in the College Chapel during our lunch hour. I do wonder if the Catholic institutions in the city follow all these customs to this day..., okay I agree September 8th can't be compared to any of this!

Wish you a Bhagi Monthiche fest, i.e. a Blessed feast of the Nativity of our Mother Mary.

On a footnote, Infosys started operations on this day in Mangalore 14 years ago and it became their second development center after Bangalore.

Room 206

My thoughts and memories are kind of juxtaposed right now and hence the chronological order of these posts will probably not make much sense, yet my goal is really not to document every single detail but rather those that are worth capturing and of course if my mind lets me. If I had to write about every single event from my four year stay in Manipal, I would probably have to quit my job which pays me to live here!


I don’t think I’ll ever forget that Sunday, a couple of bags were packed and we hauled ourselves into the cab that took us to Manipal. It was a day that will be etched in history forever, okay I agree, in my history only! On getting to the hostel blocks, it did seem like I was put up in a nicer looking block than the person I traveled with. The dinghy room, the fact that the best bed in the room was already occupied, the knowledge that my roommate was a keralite (call me racist if you may but this was my first time out on my own and familiarity does not breed contempt, although I did know that the third roommate was a school-mate) did not improve my mood that was slowly plummeting into an abyss faster than the elevator ride to the top of the tower of the Americas. It was only in the II year that I realized the true meaning of dinghy, we’ll probably get to that or not.

                                                                                      A view from outside, that corner room was ours.

The ‘how I came about being allocated Room 206’ is an interesting back story too. The nuance of room allocation was something I learned only after spending about two weeks getting to know the girls, including religion and region. And yes, I do believe those factors played a significant role in determining your room-mates. Our floor was pre-dominantly occupied by Konkani speaking girls, all speaking it with different accents, the GSB Konkanis from the area, the GSB Konkanis from Kerala and the Mangalorean Catholics. Most of the rooms had all GSB Konkanis, all Mangaloren Catholics, a couple of NRI girls with a girl from Mumbai and some mix and match like in our room.

Back to that first day in the hostel, I decided to leave the bed in the middle for the third person and plopped onto the hard bed in the corner facing the door opening, there really wasn’t anything to look around for, the custom desk and chair for each of us, the steel wardrobe and the whole row of bathrooms on the corner of the floor certainly did not look inviting. I unpacked the bare necessities and joined the others who were looking for a store to buy some more other bare necessities from! Trudging back from Kamath’s, which was right opposite the basketball court, I found more familiar faces and then ended up in the mess, it was called Ananya (it means single or unique). Rows and rows of wooden benches and tables lined the mess, aloo paratha and tea/coffee was on the menu and it was something I’d never eaten before and for some reason with the whole first day in hostel mood, I have always considered aloo paratha to be something I do not like! this is my probably my opening to mention that aloo was the staple diet in all our hostel mess's right upto the fourth ;') I promptly traveled back home the next day as we did not have a few hours! And that was just so classic of us from around the area, we could go back to our comfortable beds into familiar surroundings while the rest of the girls had to tolerate missing home, some bit of ragging on the weekends and could never complain.

My keralite room-mate was the sweetest girl I knew back in the first year.

MIT and Manipal was the place where the transformation happened, from a teenager to the twenty-something’s.

Gulping down Beaver Lake!

I think the weather of the past few days was the tipping point and the fact that most folks here seemed all set to resign themselves to a life indoors at the first signs of the fall season! Of course, we will not be joining their ranks anytime soon and are taking a few shots at the highly famed outdoor life here. This post will only talk about a few realizations from yesterday, I admit August is usually the month for realizations, but we'll get back to August and all of its life pondering questions at a later point!

This was my first shot at jetskiing, not counting the kinda jetskiing from years ago at the Calangute beach. The brave ones, me included signed up to jet ski while the others rented a very uncomfortable looking fishing boat! (well, for the only reason that no other boat was available to rent)

A few of my realizations!
1. I can't ride a Harley-Davidson nor a jet ski, my good ole' scooty is perfect (although she doesn't belong to me anymore!)
2. The water in Beaver Lake does not taste any different from the tap water in my apartment.
3. It took me precious seconds, maybe about 10-15 to realize that I could actually float with the life jacket on.
4. Rafting actually seems like a lot more fun and safer option (the life-vests were more snug too).
5. I can still talk coherently when I think I am going to drown!
6. Speed thrills until the realization of being surrounded by vast expanses of water on a speeding water motor bike with cranky waves cranks up the nerves!
7. Knowing how to swim, it would do wonders for my slight water paranoia.
8. A fishing boat with a steam engine can notch up a good speed too, but it's no good for your back!
9. I can narrate the Cinderella story to a bunch of grown-ups with ease!




And to top it all, can you imagine getting pecked by these ugly looking fish? (luckily I was not) and I don't think it would have felt like getting a pedicure!
p.s: Most important, I will be forever grateful to the person who saved my life.

What's in an email id?

I remember getting my first email id, two teenagers in a not so tiny cyber cafe on Light House Hill Rd in the Lobo Prabhu Apartments, I think it was called Cyber Delight and the rates for using the internet were hourly. Hotmail seemed like the one option, it was owned by Sabeer Bhatia then, anyway after trying for a bit we both ended up with some pretty good usernames for our email accounts. I desperately wanted an email id with both my first and last name but had to make do with just one of them and a combination of some other initials.

I’ve gone through many email accounts since then, some really obscure ones on rediffmail and indiatimes too! Today, despite having multiple email-id’s for various specific purposes, the usernames for most of them are something I have no contention with, except for a couple. Try as I may to retire that one email account, I have not been able to do it after starting the process about six months ago or maybe I’ve not tried enough. And then I think of the reason why I want to kill that email account, it’s not like it has some stupid name like cutegirl666! or is linked to some significant other who is no longer significant! Spam should be a good reason but then there is no surefire way to avoid it too.

Ever since I got my first gmail id on 6/28/04, it has trumped all and I receive *some* of my other personal email into my gmail account. Unfortunately, I do not have my very first email account today, due to the restriction that hotmail had in those days of logging in every 3 months, and it’s unfortunate because it had some important memories. Memories I know should be in the head although I think today most memories are on all kinds of servers around the world!

‘I have the helmet of God while in pursuit of fame and happiness all the while being slender and fair’

The ugly truth about the proposal with a hangover!

It seems like forever since I did one of these multiple movie reviews.

Two rom-com’s and one com on the table! That’s their classification, not mine.

First 'The Truth', which in my opinion is not as ugly as it is made out to be and I’m not talking about the movie here. I think whatever is wrong with the ‘Ugly truth’ stems from our need to google for every single thing in our lives and a convoluted belief that we can't do without it. Can I use the eggs beyond their expiry date? how do I overcome a lingering cough? and of course the most important of them all... advice. Of course, I am guilty of all this too and my web history is something I'm not proud of!

Except in this case, it’s not google, it’s the once sensitive bloke from P.S, I love you, Gerard Butler, to the now sexist TV personality doling out advice to women on the supposed ugly truth. And sucking on his every word is Katherine Heigl, she can certainly do better than the role of Abby, although I must not forget 'Knocked up'!

I think there’s no truth in this movie, it’s just demeaning to the female population and well if there’s any truth then it sure is ugly. Of course, the checklists, control freak are claimed to be classic modern women attitude but is that the justification for this version of the truth?, eating tricks, hair truths!, dirty jokes in the workplace that should ideally be limited to someplace else?

Despite all, it had it’s funny moments and will manage to make you laugh which is probably only just what you really want from a movie, without applying your analytical skills! Again, Why did they fall in love?

'The Proposal', another rom-com sure was a better watch despite being predictable, but the chemistry between Ryan Reynolds and Sandra Bullock… so not there.
And why is it always yin to yang, for once can't it be yin to yin?

'The Hangover', is a 95 min movie which seemed endless, that about sums it up, but no, the tireless charade through Las Vegas, the baby, Asian thugs, Mike Tyson and the protagonists… phew, what were they thinking? Stu was the only saving grace, who broke up with his long time cheating girlfriend. Lost tooth withstanding!

Chaddi Peter

A conversation with a friend on social networking turned to orkut and then to the one community I was a *owner* of on the site which is the only one reason for keeping my profile active and finally to Chaddi Peter, certainly not a delectable conversation turner but to cut to the chase, and boy do I love chases! Okay, okay, it reminded me of this post that has been languishing in my drafts folder for weeks if not months and it concerns St. Peter guarding the gates of heaven!

I think most Mangaloreans would know or have heard of Chaddi Peter. Sounds like an exaggeration? Would it be appropriate to say that most students in the city of Mangalore know of him? Or I could narrow the pool to students of a particular mighty all-girls institution and possibly students of a few co-ed and boys colleges too.

Chaddi Peter, a permanent fixture at the gate with his khaki shorts, whichever way he certainly has an envious job, not that I envy his job but I’m sure some would. His job profile does not match St. Peter’s at the gates of heaven to a T, his focus was more on making sure the girls didn’t slip out and even more on making sure that the boys did not sneak in although I must admit, I have not knocked on heaven's doors yet, so I can't speak for St. Peter's job!

I remember this one particular incident (I think it was the Hindi hour, certainly it had to be since it was the most yawn inducing class we had) when we were contemplating slipping out through the side entrance of the Bendur Church but then his stare made us stop and turn right back. So, technically it was not an incident and well, girls will be girls and had discovered other ways of breaking out of the campus (hush, hush). Of course I’ve heard of sob stories narrated, the devious little plans hatched to sneak out and even more interesting were the stories of those trying to sneak in.

It has been a long time since I visited my Alma Mater, the place where I literally broke through the shackles, although I must admit the process started sometime in the 7th Std! and came into my own. It sure was one of the best places to study in Mangalore and I believe it continues to be. The gate policy could well have changed over the years but the familiar figure of Chaddi Peter was proverbial when I drove by the college a few months ago.

To Thomas (a.k.a Chaddi Peter) and to St. Agnes (Deus Fortitudo Mea), the second Catholic Women's College in India, you may not be heaven but you certainly hold some of my fondest memories. How did this post turn into a love fest for St. Agnes, ah well… that's the thrill of the chase!

I don’t get Apollo 11

The Eagle has indeed landed and I will not be dwelling on conspiracy theories rather the fact that I don’t quite get Apollo 11 as much as I do Apollo 13! Of course this is purely personal and has nothing to do with the stereotyping of my gender or my generation. There could be the geek factor or lack thereof but then that could be discounted due to my fair bit of interest in anything that flies, no not anything! gadgets that fly, strike that too, planes it is. I dream of Jeannie, X-Flies, JAG should be proof of that, just don’t ask me for the how and why!

Another pretty obvious factor is that the event happened before I was born, but then so did the World War, so did West Bank! On the other hand is Apollo 13, forever etched and its fascinating portrayal of the turn of events by Tom Hanks, Gary Sinise, Kevin Bacon, Ed Harris and 'Houston, we have a problem'. Brilliance overflowing.



Not to take anything anyway from One small step for a man, one giant leap for mankind moment!
(The feminists would have been all over that one if Armstrong used that statement 20 years ago)


Neil Armstrong’s footprint on the moon.


Here’s my own little moon moment!

A decade gone by!