Once upon a time in DUMBO
Posted: June 25, 2006 Filed under: Living Comments OffI went to the Brooklyn Bridge park last Sunday.
Since last year I saw a picture on the cover of "L" magazine, I’ve been wanted to go there.
"L" magazine is a free weekly publication where you can find out every event currently going on in new york city. Especially during summer time, there’re usually lots of things you can do. It’s the worst thing to live in a great city like this and don’t know how to enjoy it.
I would pick up a "L" once in a while to read during a dinner. Last year in March or May, I don’t remember, I saw a picture of a nice green park with Manhattan bridge in the background on the cover. It looked so nice that I wanted to actually go there and check it out. I asked around but none of my friends were sure where it is.
A friend of mine, Toto, looked at the picture and told me it might be in Queens. Somewhere around Astoria. And he happily offered me a one day tour. Because that’s his neighbourhood. He drove me around in Astoria. We visited the Astoria park, Socrate sculpture park, Gantry plaza state park, Long Island City, Noguchi museum and museum of Moving Image. Apparently he mistook Manhattan bridge as Queens borough bridge. There are just too many bridges around manhattan that not everyone can remember which is which. So we didn’t find the park on the picture. However, we had a wonderful day hanging out.
I had to post online to ask if anyone knew about it. I got replies very quickly. People were very nice to point out where it is and even how to get there for me. But I didn’t make it until last Sunday. One year slid by without a sound of a pin drops on the floor.
It was a very sunny day. The sun was up early and there was not a cloud in the sky. The temperature got up to 83 degree around noon. I took a shower, put on my American Eagle blue cargo shorts, a sleeveless T-shirt, sunglasses, flip-flop and packed up my knapsack. It was a nice day for a picnic.
On my way to the F train, I stopped at a Duane Reade to pick up some sunblock lotion. Then one more stop at a Japanese bakery for a spicy chicken sandwich.
The subway station at 2nd avenue and Houston was almost empty. I got on the train. It made 2 more stops in manhattan before went down under the river and crossed to Brooklyn. It took about 6 minutes, I got off at York street station.
The exit is right under the Manhattan Bridge. This neighbourhood is called DUMBO, Down Under Mahattan Bridge Overpass. I was here once long time ago. It was in the first semester in my first year graduate school that I came to this part of the city without knowing anything about it. My impression of the neighbourhood at the time was one word, ‘scary’. There was nothing there. Deserted factories, waste lands were all you can see. During these eight years, everything has changed. The New York Times called DUMBO, ‘the new east village’. I walked around a little bit and the memories came back to me vividly. The reason I was so impressed with this area was actaully this one street where you can look down the street with Manhattan bridge sandwiched right in the middle of the view. It was also a great scene in one of my favorate movies, ’once upon a time in America’. You just can’t miss it and you won’t be able to resist taking pictures.
It’s nice that this area is not a hot spot for sight seeing. So there were not many people around. I got to the park. It’s just right on the bank of the east river between Manhattan and Brooklyn bridge. Most people here are locals. I lied down on the lawn, took off my T-shirt and read the book I brought. It’s a detective story written by Lawrence Block. A 25-y-o hooker was slashed to death in west village by a razor. The view was breath taking and the sky was blue and there were 2 air crafts writing some advertisement with smoke.
Summer is here in New York.
Talk to me
Posted: June 23, 2006 Filed under: Computers and Internet Comments OffI am a good updater. I update religiously.
Periodically I’d check for updates for most of the programs I have. It’s like a car needed to be filled up with oil. The computer programs needed to be updated. I take comfort in downloading updates. They constitute part of my pc’s health.
So I hate those ’automatic check for update’ thing. I would turn them off whenever I can. Cause not only it deprived all the fun I could have but it also depressed my self-confidence and self-respect.
Recently I have received a letter from The National Psychologist Monthly asking me about volunteering in a research program which will probe into the psychological damage ‘automatic update’ cause. I guess I am not the only one who started to suffer from ‘sitting in front of my computer but can’t find nothing to update’ syndrome.
That being said, however, I had been getting notice from MSN to update my messenger for almost 6 months now. I turned it down everytime. I was reluctant to update from MSN 7.5 to the so called MSN live messenger, namely, MSN 8.
The reason was that I had skinned my messenger to a mac OSX look and was unwilling to give that up for the unimpressive vista look and the advertisement.
I had checked out lots of introduction websites what MSN 8 was about and I was not terribly excited about the new functions they add in. I was fine with 7.5 and I had a great looking OSX Tiger skin (without the ads, sorry.)
Four days ago, on Monday June 19th, MSN 8 finally went out of beta and being released officially. I have been trying not to notice it, not to download it, not to update it. But I guess I must be constrained by the ‘update behavior’ now. I resisted for only four days and then I couldn’t resist no more.
Just updated to MSN live messenger. Wanna chat?
Almost a love letter
Posted: June 4, 2006 Filed under: Living Comments OffHave I ever written a love letter?
I woke up Sunday morning in a gray day. Outside the window everything seemed a little fuzzy.
I went to the bathroom, peed, washed my face. That’s my daily routine. I washed face to make sure I am truly awake. Suddenly a melody started to play in my head. It’s like a radio playing at the other end of 50 meter running course. I couldn’t tell what it was.
I dried my face and went into the kitchen to prepare my breakfast. There’re some hams in the fridge and a couple of eggs. So I took out the butter, sliced it, put a pan on the stove and cracked four eggs in the pan, started to stir them. Just when I was stirring the eggs, the melody came to me again. This time it was much clearer. It was playing in my head, but I almost felt like I was sining it.
I don’t want your freedom. I don’t want to play around.I don’t want nobody’s baby. Part time love just brings me down.
"Wham!". I blurted out.
Pre-George Michael era. Although I knew it was the beginning of the 80s, I am no expert on chronology. A quick google told me it was 1984. The year the duo came back together after a short breakup and George Michael’s widely successful solo ‘Careless whisper’. The year George Orwell’s ominous ‘near-future’ became today. The year Reagan ordered U.S. Marines withdrawn from Beirut international peacekeeping force. The year I was listening to American pop music non stop and writing tons and tons of letters while preparing the entrance exam for the high school.
I strived to get up every morning at 6 o’clock. Packed up those boring yet never seemed to be able to be finished textbooks. Ate a sunnyside up egg and half bowl of congee then off to school riding my blue Giant bike. Some times I carried lunch box but most times I didn’t. I disliked lunch box. Everybody’s lunch box was collected in the morning and sent to a huge steaming room to reheat for lunch time. I didn’t like the mixture smell of steamed whatever food there were. It’s like Beethoven’s symphony No. 9 played by a high school orchestra.
I was a normal student. Besides detest steamed lunch box, I was not too tall, not too short, not good looking, not ugly, not prominent, not a trouble maker either. I was just a perfectly normal 14 yo boy. I was always in the first middle part of the class. Some times I’d had bad luck in an exam and then dropped to the second middle part. Once in a while, I’d get scores up to the top 10 of the class. But that’s as luck would have it.
80s in Taiwan, pre-high schools still separate boys and girls. So the school would divide to two parts. But my parents sent me to a private school where they believed coed was a more nature and healthy idea. It turned out, through out all my life, I’d never been in a monosex environment except in the army.
Maybe that’s why I sort of felt like I missed my adolescence. While most of the boys sitting in a class of the same sex, deepdown their bodies hormone bubbling, constantly peeping out the window looking for a girl to pass by. I sat next to 25 girls under the same roof. I didn’t have to think about them, nor did I have to plan to hide somewhere after school just to see them. I could actually talk to them, read the same book and eve hit by the same rod when the result of our math exam were ‘under appreciated’.
As I said, I was a normal guy. Even with the girls around, I did not make any special impression on them. I could be sick and absent for one day, then return to school the next day, no one would notice it. I didn’t have friends. Perhaps it’s because where I lived was at a different direction then everybody’s home, so I always rode home alone and didn’t hang with any of the classmates. Thinking of it was kind of strange: 50 person in the same class, saw each other everyday, knew who is who, but never really make conversations. Of three years in the same class, I only knew 2 person and where they lived.
The year of 1984 was an intense one. It’s the last year for our high school entrance exam. You want to score high to get in a good school for a guaranteed future. That’s for everyone else. For me, I wanted to get out of that small town. I wanted to get in to a school as far away as possible.
The textbooks seemed indefinitely boring and undecipherable. I used to listen to the radio play top 10 while studying. And I honestly couldn’t remember why I started to exchange letters with this girl in my class. She was a smart girl. Looked smart, a cute round face, always in top 10 of the class. A bit chatty, friendly, but quite have her own opinion. Hermione in Harry Potter but with a thick glasses on might sound like her. If there were a list of celebrity in the school somewhere circling around, her name was definitely on it. That kind of thing, you know.
I didn’t know what happened. Why she picked me or how the thing got started. She wrote me a 5 pages letter. Then I replied. The same length. Then she wrote more. And then I wrote more. Every time it was like a contest, to see who could write the letter longer. By the end we were writing 15 to 20 pages every week.
As to what we wrote about, I seriously couldn’t recall anything now. The only thing that popped into my mind was those nights at home sitting in front of my desk, writing and writing, as supposed to be studying those boring textbooks, I wrote. While the radio was playing Duran Duran’s "Hungry like a wolf", Yes’s "Owner of a lonely heart", Pointer Sister’s "Jump", Culture Club’s "Karma Chemeleon", Tina Tuner "What’s love got to do with it", Wham "Wake me up before you go go", I wrote. Page after page.
What I wrote to her was far from a love letter. Neither were hers.
Come to think of it, I have never written a love letter in my life.
wham | 1984 | love letter
The season finales — life of a TV series addict
Posted: May 23, 2006 Filed under: Entertainment Comments OffOnce my allergy was gone, I knew the summer had officially arrived.
And that happened several days ago when I found myself finally could sleep through the night without having to wake up coughing and gasping for air.
The end of May this year in New York City was way cooler than the previous one. The weather kept lingering around 45 to 57 degree after 6 o’clock. There’s no sign yet it’s going to get hot anytime soon. But there’s no sign the other way around either. It didn’t matter that much. As far as I am concerned, my life is coming to a screeching end because all the TV series it depended on is airing their season finale this or next week.
I had no idea who invented this rule of game for the TV series that "let there’d be Spring season and Fall season". I think lazyness does it. Those guys they just want to be like us sipping drinks with little umbrellas on the beach and not having to worry about shooting an episode during the summer. But, WHAT ABOUT MY SUMMER? I want to be able to sip a Pina Colada on the beach and when I come back to the city, I’d still like to turn on my Tivo and see my favorite shows as well. Summer is not for reruns, you stupid.
My social life depended on the TV series. I went to see "The Apprentice" with a bunch of friends in one of them’s chelsea apartment while in the mean time meaninglessly flirted with Linda. I went to a bar on Sunday night to see "Desperate housewives" and tried to pick up anyone as desperate as me to spend yet another empty night on earth. I watched "Las Vegas" at home so I can rewind as many time as I’d like for a scene that Danny McCoy and Delinda Deline made out. And I paused "Medium" when things got really wacky and called my cousin to discuss how funny Patricia Arquette looked when she was close to a nervous breakdown.
No. That was all but a joke.
Each one of them accompanied me through all those nights when I had absolutely nothing to do, and didn’t want to do anything. Of course I have Tivo. But let’s just say they really helped. Only by watching them then I realized how effective a screenwriter is to a TV series just as it is a director to a movie. And I started to appreciate it. Nevertheless, they all tried to over impress you by the finale. Which wasn’t as bad as it sounded.
Thank god this summer there will be a new season, the summer season. There will be ‘The Closer’ with Kyra Sedgwick which I thought both the script and the acting in the first season last year was phenomenal, and there will be HBO’s "Entourage" I thought was very much fun to watch.
They both starts two weeks from now.
Now I can happily enjoy my season finales and wait for the summer season premiere.
God bless the guy who invented Summer TV series season.
Where is MY george?
Posted: May 22, 2006 Filed under: Living Comments OffI ran into this project 5 months ago. It’s called "Where’s george?" which is a project that tracks a bill.
You can start the game by marking on a bill, ask people who got the bill to go to the website and report where he got it from. Or you can go shopping and expect to find one in the change you’ve got. And there’s a map where you can check out how far and how long the bill has traveled.
I thought it was illegal to make any marks on the currency. At least that’s what I guessed. Apparently it didn’t bother these people too much. Accroding to the law, People also own part of the rights on the design of the currency. So it is allowed to be used in art work but of course not ‘reproduction’. I remember reading about an article telling you how to scan a bill and import it into photoshop. There was a deviced built in photoshop to recognize a bill and it will refuse to open the file.
Not until last week I ran into a one dollar bill that has a line of red printed words www.whereisgeorge.com circling along the left side "H" mark on the front of the bill. I wouldn’t pay any attention to it if it were not the person who gave me the money took an extra second looking at it curiously. I also look at it after he handed me that bill, and it was funny I suddenly felt like I was recruited in some sort of clandestine organization.
I put the bill in my wallet and went about my things for the rest of the day. Just before I got home, I went into a supermarket and bought something for the dinner. It was not expansive, so I paid by cash. And what did I do? I gave the bill to the cashier. I realized it right after I went out of the store but I quickly turned around and went to the cashier asking for my money back. She was confused for a moment but I explained I WANT the one dollar bill with ‘whereisgeorger.com’ on it and will give her another dollar for a fair exchange. But it was too late. There’d been two or three customers in between and she must have given it out.
Oh, well. I know, I know. Life is not perfect.
Talking about money, Andy Warhol had been asked why he painted money. He said,
"I’d asked around 10 or 15 people for suggestions. Finally one lady friend asked the right question, ‘Well, what do you love most?’ That’s how I started painting money."
Making peace with memories and history — [A wild sheep chase] chronology
Posted: May 10, 2006 Filed under: Books Comments OffFor more than 10 pages, Mr. Murakami rattled on and on about the history of this small town called Junitaki. By the end, he tried to explain it to his girl friend by drawing a timeline to show her.
"I used a page from my notebook to make a simplified timeline based on the summary at the back of the Authoritative History. On the left of the page, I listed dates and developments in the history of Junitaki-cho and on the right the major events in the history of Japan in the same period. …"For example, in 1905 Port Arthur fell and the Ainu youth’s son was killed in the war. And if my memory served me correctly, that was also the year the Sheep Professor was born. Incrementally, history linked up."
So it occured to me to sketch out the main events in the story. Thus, I added ‘The Boss’ and ‘The Sheep Professor’ on the list. Interestingly enough, history does link up.
(The picture above is actually an excell spreadsheet file. Leave me a note if you are interested to see the whole file.)
Drawing restraint 9
Posted: May 3, 2006 Filed under: Movie Comments Off
We sat at a bench in a kids’ playground across the street from the IFC center’s movie theatre, sharing a chicken fajita panini. It was about 9pm in west village. Thursday night. It’s spring but still got kind of chilly after dark. The traffic on 6th avenue was horrandous. I couldn’t believe there were so many people out. It didn’t seem like a nice night to go out. But people got agitated in spring time, I guess. They would find any reason to come to the city even it’s not yet the weekend.
I gave her a third of the panini and a paper napkin. In the mean time I was explaining why I brought it with me. "I know we are having dinner after the movie, but this was supposed to be my late late lunch which I was hoping to put in my stomach earlier. Something came up, I just didn’t have time to eat it."
"Thank you. This is awefully nice. Considering I only ate cereal and bananas all day." She said.
"So about this movie, I thought I should give you some preparation." I said. God, why do I always do this? I can’t never seem to choose a right movie when hanging out with girls.
"Right, I can’t remember I said I wanted to see this movie." She said, taking a bite out of the panini.
"Well, you sort of mentioned it. You probably forgot. But this movie…, do you know Matthew Barney?" I said.
"Nope." She looked at me with her big blue eyes.
"How about Damien Hirst?"
"Nope."
"Geeee…" I wished I had chosen [Basic Instinct 2] over this one. "How do I start? O.K. What we are going to see, is not in any sense a traditional definition of ‘movies’. There is no story line, no dead people, no explosions. As a matter of fact, you even might not make out what exactly it’s about after the viewing…" God, I really hated myself now.
"It’s experimental." She added.
"Yeah…, I guess you can put it that way." I wiped off the beads on my forehead.
"So this Mr. Barney shot a series of ‘experimentals’ called ‘The Cremaster’. From 1 to 5. And showed them along with sculptures in Guggenheim. I thoguht it was a very interesting exhibition." I said.
"Did you see all of the five movies?" She asked.
"No. It’s like 6 to 7 hours all together. Couldn’t possibly make it. But I saw bits and bytes along with his sculptures." I explained.
"Multimedia." She took another bite of the panini.
"Yeah…, you are right again." I started dig in my food. We’ve got 20 minutes.
I handed her my Snapple Iced tea, she declined politely.
"So, this movie, Mr. Barney collabourated with Bjork…" I kept going.
"You said Bjork’s in it?" She asked, looking at me again.
"Yes. She is the co-star. And she scored the music." Finally, I saw some hope. I felt like the moon was shining a beam of light on me.
"Right. I remember now. I did read something on paper about it and I think I did mention I wanted to see it."
"So, it’s not my fault if the movie is bad, right?" I tried to get myself off the hook right away.
Detour
Posted: April 25, 2006 Filed under: Computers and Internet Comments OffRecently found out ‘blogger.com’ is still blocked in China.
That means my other blog —"A huge pill", written in Chinese, was not able to be accessed by the biggest market in the world. 
Since my blog is nothing related to anything they would need to censor, I will justifyingly offer a workaround to access it.
然後點選任一連線 在展開網頁後 再輸入網址
www.ahugepill.blogspot.com
There. I think that will do now.
solution | proxy | workaround
ZICAM Allergy Relief
Posted: April 20, 2006 Filed under: Living Comments OffZICAM Allergy Relief (Non-Drowsy version with 50¢ coupon)
1. Remove cap and
safty clip.
2. Hold with thumb at bottom of bottle
and nozzle between your fingers.
3. Before using the (((while I am writing this, a string of water runs down my left nostril. I have to get up and retrive a tissue from the bathroom. — Now I am back. Let’s continue.))) first time, prime pump by depressing several times.
4. Place tip of nozzle just past nasal
opening (approximately 1/8").
5. (((My nose is itchy. I might need to sneeze anytime.))) While inside nasal opening, slightly angle (((now there’s a string of water comes out from my right nostril. It sort of hangs on the tip of my nose. I tilt my head and hold a steady position. I might be able to finish this line.))) nozzle outward, as shown.
6. Pump once into each nostril. (((Need to go to the bathroom. Oh, no. I see the old tissue I just used. It’s still usable. No need to move.)))
7. After application, press lightly on outside of each nostril for about 5 seconds.
8. Wait at least 30 (((HHHHHa—choooo, excuse me.))) seconds before blowing nose.
9. Use once every 4 hours. (((What? Really?)))
10. (((I am thirsty, I need to get some water. Back. While I was in the kitchen getting water, I blowed my nose and dried it with dish towel.))) Optimal results may not be seen for 1-2 weeks. (((WHAT??))) After 1-2 weeks, may need to use only 1-2 times daily. (((Dude!! No kidding!))) For best results, use up to one week before contact with known causes of your allergies. (((Uhum?)))
Children under 6 years of age: consult a doctor before use.
Active Ingredient: Luffa Operculata 4x, 12x, 30x; Galphimia Glauca 12x, 30x; Histaminum Hydrochloricum 12x, 30x, 200x; Sulphur 12x, 30, 200x
(((left nostril, not kidding, nose water running down ever slowly. I can feel it running down my nostril. Now it’s at the tip of my upper lip.)))
Inactive Ingredients: Benzalkonium chloride, benzyl alcohol, edetate disodium, glycerin, hydroxyethylcellulose, potassium chloride, potassium phosphate, purified water, sodium chloride, sodium phosphate
Warnings: For nasal use only. Ask a doctor before use if you have ear, nose or throat sensitivities, or if you are susceptible to nose bleeds. (((oh damn, there’s a faint blood color on the tissue. Let me see… I am not sure, it looks pinky…))) When using this product, avoid contact with eyes. In case of accidental contact with eyes, flush with water and immediately seek professional help. The use of this container by more than one person may spread infection. Stop use and ask a doctor if symptoms persist. If pregnant or breast-feeding, ask a health professional before use. Keep out of reach of children. If swallowed, get medical help or contact a Poison Control Center right away. (((where is that?)))
Zicam Allergy Relief
No known drug interactions
No ordor or bad taste
No drowsiness No jitters
Non-habit forming (((wait, I find sticking the tip of that thing in my nose kinda fun.)))
Homeopathic
Satisfaction guaranteed
allergy | instruction | relief
The war of supermarkets
Posted: April 11, 2006 Filed under: Living 2 Comments »For almost 3 years the ground floor at 14th street’s NYU palladium dorm had been left empty.
If you lived in New York long enough, NYU palladium dorm is just one block away from Union Square, you’ll know how hot that location is. It would be insanely expansive to rent that space. But then only NYU has the amplitude to afford leaving it empty for such a long time.
When I just got here, I lived in a hostel for a while. Which located on 15th street and Irving place. I loved Irving place. It’s such a nice little street filled with quiet delicate atmostphere and a view of Chrysler building in the middle of the skyline. But that’s not the point here. When I just got here, the palladium place was a dead spot. I remembered walking pass the big dark block on my way to bars in east village. People told me it used to be a famous underground club. All the celebrities were there, Andy Warhol, etc etc…, and Andy Warhol, I only remember Andy Warhol. Anyhow, they were all there. And then the club closed down. Everything was gone. The glamour, the crowd, the light. All gone. I missed the time, all I could see was the graffiti filled iron door and the dirty sidewalk in front of it.
Not for too long. NYU came in. The place was torn down, a new modern building was erected. Somehow ugly. The worst news is, it is to be a dorm. But then this is just my incidental whine, I aimed to talk about something else.
In the beginning, there was only one supermarket around Union Square. On the eastside of the square, open 24 hours, called A&P, later renamed Food Emporium. Such a bad name. It took me several years to finally able to remember the name and I can hardly utter it out of my mouth in a conversation.
"Hey, neighbor, where are you going?"
"I am going to…, you know, to…, that supermarket near Union Square."
And then Garden of Eden came along. It saved me a little trip to west village. But it can never replace Jafferson market and Gourmet Garage’s superior place in my heart. During the weekend, it’s actually a nice walk to Gourmet Garage and Jefferson market then back to east village where I live. Sometimes I would go up to chelsea to the wholefoods market. That’s when I was in an extremely good mood.
About a year ago, finally after a long wait, wholefoods market opened in Union Square. People rushed in like a bunch of refugee just got off from a boat. Without comparison, their stuff was definitely fresh and delicious. But their price was redicurously high.
3 weeks ago, the fourth supermarket opened near Union Square, at the ground floor of the NYU dorm. It’s also Trader Joe’s first store in Manhattan. Again people rushed in like the food is free plus there’s another Katrina coming. The line for check out circled the entire store and out of the door. I tried to avoid rush hour and got in there several times. The first time when I checked out, I thought I won the lottory. Cause for the grocery I bought, normally it would cost me $70 bucks at wholefoods, and Trader Joe’s only ask $40. My god, I said to myself, ‘this is amazing.’
Then I was hooked. I noticed a roast beef sandwich was only $4.50. A protein shake was 1.25. I brough back home two huge brown bags of food only cost me $45, top. They don’t have fresh sea food and meat stand though. NO, I can’t complaint, I can’t complaint. How can I say any bad things to these guys who make living in New York City so much easier. They are god sent, aren’t they? (Imagine my eyes filled with grateful tears.)
Today, the fourth time I went there. I picked a less crowded hour but still, people were buying like there’s no tomorrow. I was just gonna pick up some basic groceries and get out of there asap. But then I couldn’t believe my eyes. The price has gone up. How could they do this? How could they do this to me? Oh, no, I mean, how could they do this to all the people who loved them? I couldn’t balance myself. Even though I am usually very shy about speaking up, in this case, I found myself looking for someone to give me an explaination.
"Excuse me, " and I am so good at picking person, that I picked the girl holding a [here is the end of line] board.
"Can you tell me what’s going on here?"
"Uh?" She was totally confused.
"You guys are raising the price already?"
"No. We never raised our price." She answered with a smile.
"Yes you did."
"Well, sir. That’s not possible."
"But you did. See, a dozen of eggs used to be .99 cents. Now it’s 1.10. I am not kidding."
"Really? Gee…, maybe you wanna talk to our manager."
"I…, well, uh…, manager?"
"Yeah, he is that guy over there with a blue shirt."
Then she went to get him for me.
"Hello, sir. How can I help you?"
"Hello. I… I have a question." I lowered my voice, sort of whispered to him. " Did you just raise the price?"
"No, that’s not possible." He whispered to me too.
"But the eggs are more expansive now…" I proved my point.
"Oh, the dairies sometimes fluctuate a bit. In order to keep it fresh and keep an ample supply." He said.
"Oh, I see." I was still whispering, "I understand. Thank you."
I quickly gethered my stuff and went for check out.
