Five years ago, I was diagnosed with primary mediastinal diffuse large B-Cell lymphoma, a subset of Non-Hodgkins lymphoma, a blood cancer (background: Living With Lymphoma). But with the help of my family, friends, and a wonderful team of oncologists and nurses at Stony Brook University Medical Center, I went into remission on September 2, 2005. After six rounds of chemotherapy, I’m now celebrating my fifth year of being cancer-free.

But others aren’t as lucky. Each year since 2006, I’ve been participating in the Leukemia & Lymphoma Society’s Light The Night Walk, which is held every October at Suffolk County Ball Park in Central Islip. It’s a nationwide event to pay tribute and bring hope to thousands of people battling blood cancers and to commemorate loved ones lost.

Each walker carries an illuminated balloon—white for survivors, red for those who support them, and gold for remembrance of a loved one lost to blood cancer. There are still too many gold balloons—and I am asking for your support in helping me raise money so we see even more white balloons at future Light The Night events.

To celebrate my fifth year of remission, I have set a goal to raise $5,000 before the October 23rd walk. And as an incentive to business owners, every business that donates $50 or more will receive special recognition on my Light The Night fundraising page, my website, and Twitter — as well as have its logo prominently displayed on a banner that will be carried by team Squash Lymphoma on October 23.

Please help me help other blood cancer patients reach the same milestone that I have—every donation, no matter how small, makes a difference. If you wish to donate, please go to my fundraising page, where you can make your donation securely by credit card. I also accept check donations made out to The Leukemia & Lymphoma Society, mailed to Amanda Marsh, PO Box 406, Islip, NY 11751.

Please feel free to e-mail me with questions.

My first attempt to use the beer was Susan’s Beyond Easy Beer Bread. And it was indeed easy! From bowl to piping hot loaf, it only took an hour. I modified the recipe to make four different flavors. The result:

• Top left: Onion (added a packet of Lipton’s Recipe Secret Onion – but if you do this, nix the salt in Susan’s recipe)
• Bottom left:  Cranberry (added lots and lots of Ocean Spray Craisins and replaced Susan’s granulated sugar with brown sugar)
• Top right: Italian (added dried parsley, oregano, powdered garlic, and fresh Parmesan cheese)
• Bottom left: Spicy (added curry and cinnamon – I ran out of flour, so that’s why it’s smaller and denser. It has the consistency of pumpkin bread)

So each bottle of beer will make approximately five loaves. I’m going to try all different types of flavoring. Next, I think I’ll try cinnamon and raisin, again replacing the granulated sugar with brown sugar. It’s a tradition for Mom and I to have a slice of toasted cinnamon raisin bread and a cup of coffee on the first day of school (the Wednesday after Labor Day on Long Island). Even though I’m no longer in school, we still have our bread and coffee!

In hindsight, the weekend before Labor Day was probably not the best one to schedule a party – a bunch of my friends and family couldn’t come because of prior engagements. Everyone seemed to schedule a summer’s-last-hurrah on Saturday. When I ordered and paid for the beer keg a week earlier, I’d been expecting a certain amount of people – many of them beer drinkers. As the week progressed, I did receive some RSVP cancellations – and mostly from the beer drinkers. (Maybe it was the Miller Lite that scared them away. I don’t drink beer, so I asked my brother what I should buy.)

I decided to go along with the keg anyways, convinced my party would drink my money’s worth had I purchased bottles. As people trickled in and out, I suggested they drink some beer. As the night progressed, “suggested” slightly turned into “ordered.” I began posting  (rather, begging) on Facebook, offering free beer and food. I just wanted the keg to go away – I knew that keeping it cold over the next few days was going to be a big chore. No one grabbed at the ice-cold opportunity. Seriously, was it the Miller Lite? By the end of the party, the keg was still about 75% full, despite the 60 or so attendees. I dumped the last of my freezer’s ice tray in the big bucket, filled it with water, and called it a night.

Day Two

Sunday, my sister told me her boyfriend’s brother was having a BBQ later that day. Perfect! I could dump the keg on him! He gladly accepted, and the beer keg made the quarter-mile trip down the road to his house. I could forget about icing the 75%-full beer keg for an entire day. Life was grand.

Day Three

I woke up bright and early, with visions of an empty beer keg in my dreams. I dialed my sister’s number. She picked up on the seventh ring.

“So, how’s the beer keg?” I asked.

“No one really drank the beer,” she replied.

%$#@! I knew it. The responsibility was back on me. I drove to his house to pick up the still-heavy keg, and we heaved the metal canister into the back of Mom’s Toyota Sienna. Now what to do? Quite a few friends on Facebook had already been asking what happened to the keg.

I thought for a minute. Beer bread. Beer-battered shrimp. Beer and cheese soup. Yes, I can cook with it!  But storing the keg would be a problem. I then decided it would be easier to keep the beer cool in the empty soda bottles from the party (yes, the drink that everyone drained instead of the keg. We had to make three 7-Eleven soda runs).

But I’d be damned if I had to drag that keg out of the car again. No worries. I carried nine empty soda bottles to the end of the driveway, unhatched the back door, and tapped the keg right in the back of the minivan.

Or, attempted to tap.

As I was tapping the keg, my hand slipped, and I accidentally pushed the lever down. Which sent a stream of foamy Miller Lite straight into my eyes, temporarily blinding me. I began flailing and screaming, further sending a geyser straight towards the car ceiling, distributing the beer to every last square inch of the back of the car. Drip, drip, drip. Not only was the car’s interior covered in beer, but I was drenched from head to toe. Even my socks.

Creak. Creak. Creak. A older man slowly peddled to the end of my driveway and asked if I needed help finishing that keg. I wanted to knock him off his bike. By then, two hornets started swarming around me. I was covered in beer and was wearing a brightly-colored flowered shirt. I might as well have been wearing a giant bullseye on my back with the words STING ME. Did I mention that I have a severe allergy to hornets?

Mom, who’d been watering plants in the back yard, heard my screams and came to the front yard.

Did I also mention that Mom had just gotten the car detailed at the Toyota dealership last week?

The meticulous polishing gave way to puddling, golden liquid. Boy, was I in trouble. But just one look at my pathetic, dripping body holding an unattached tap, she erupted in laughter. She grabbed some towels and began to clean the inside of the car as I finally tapped the keg. Luckily, the Toyota dealership did a bad job of rinsing the shampoo out of the carpets, so we even had some nice soap to work with.

After I filled the nine bottles, I took a long shower, changed into fresh clothes, and returned the keg to Islip Beer Distributor. I never wanted to see that keg again. Didn’t even give it a goodbye – just grabbed my $100 deposit and ran.

Next time I’ll just stick to good ol’ Sam Adams in a bottle. On the bright side, I now have shiny, manageable hair. Who needs Body On Tap?

Armed with a pound of Oscar Meyer Bacon, a bag of Hershey’s semi-sweet chocolate chips, and some slivered almonds, I made quite a mess of the kitchen tonight.

I laid most of the bacon across cooling racks before putting them in the oven, so the fat dripped off of them and they stayed flat. The ones that were laid directly on the baking sheet curled too much and it was hard to coat them with chocolate. While the bacon was cooking in the oven, I melted the chocolate in a double boiler (or in my case, a sauce pan inside a sauce pan). I read to add a little vegetable oil to thin the chocolate a little bit, otherwise the chocolate would overpower the bacon. Of course, I added my own secret ingredient – pepper, madam? Lexcie hand-chopped the almonds, but it would have been much easier had we purchased slivered almonds.

Nice and crispy – you don’t now how difficult it was not to eat a slice of bacon before it hit the chocolate! The chocolate was the perfectly smooth and covered the bacon evenly – I just had to make sure to let the excess chocolate drip off the bacon. I then laid it on a piece of parchment paper (another commenter said not to put it on metal or the chocolate would crack off). Thirty minutes in the fridge, and voilà! A crispy, chocolaty, perfect-blend-of-sweet-and-salty snack. It’s delicious! I will definitely make this again, and may try using maple-flavored bacon next time.

“Chocolate is sacred – you just defiled my church. I still love you, but respect you a little less. I can’t wrap my head around this.” – Deena Baikowitz

Yesterday, I was at camp, minus the s’mores – Social Media Camp Long Island, that is.  The first-ever event was held at St. Joseph’s College in Patchogue, and included a day full of social media-related sessions, a panel discussion, and networking. It was perhaps the only place that someone wasn’t insulted if you were tweeting or posting on Facebook while talking to him!

The three blocks of sessions were attendee-influenced and led by local experts from all realms of social media. Twitter, Facebook, LinkedIn, journalism, podcasting, privacy – so many topics were discussed at once, and it was difficult to choose which breakout session to attend. I settled for three on business and Twitter, event planning, and local news. What I enjoyed most about it is that no one spoke at you – even though someone was leading a session, everyone shared ideas and learned from each other. Here are some takeaways:

To Tweet or Not To Tweet… That is the Question! (Is Twitter a Useful Business Tool or a Devious Distraction?)

The session was led by Aleweb Social Marketing‘s Tara Alemany (@eandtsmom), and focused on ways to use Twitter to promote your business. Besides personal tweeting, I’m also setting up an account for Angel Bridals and tweeting for Journey to the Cure (@journey2thecure). Part of it was Twitter 101, but I learned:

• Do not use an auto-follower. It’s all about building personal relationships, and you don’t want a computer to do that for you.
• The best time to post is at 4:01 pm. That’s when the majority of Twitter users are online and reading.
• Monitor your name constantly, like Domino’s after one of its pizzas was not delivered hot to @interactiveAmy. Domino’s' immediate video apology.
• Use the minus sign (-) to streamline search results. For instance, if you’re searching for Long Island, but only get posts of the iced tea variety, search “Long Island -tea”
• Save searches you use often. And search for misspellings of yours or your business’ name.
• Two useful websites: Hashtag.org and Tagal.us

Create a Successful Event – Case Study: Long Island Restaurant Week

The session was led by WordHampton Public Relations‘ Lindsey Jaffe (@LindseyJaffe), and focused on how to use social media to create a successful event. Lindsey discussed how it worked for promoting Long Island Restaurant Week, and attendees shared what they’ve learned along the way. Some talking points:

• Don’t just focus on one element when sending out invitations. Some people prefer to receive e-mails, others Facebook.
• Use Excel spreadsheets to keep track of attendees across different invitation media so there aren’t double or triple RSVPs (a mistake I once made after inviting people via Evite, Facebook, and MySpace, and subsequently ordering too much food).
• If you’re looking for a single invitation mode, try Facebook, as you can send the link to people. They’ll get the vital information without having to sign up for Facebook, and can either call or e-mail you to RSVP.
• E-blasts are still great for getting the word out.
• Try Facebook ads – you can hit targeted demographics for your event. However, don’t use keywords (they will pare down the number of people the ad reaches) and keep it simple – the more basic, the better. And make sure the accompanying image is not too busy – go for impact. Recognizable logos are great.
• Use a service like SurveyMonkey after the event.
• Media sponsors provide a great return. But if you want to partner with someone, don’t ask, “What can you do for me?” Instead, ask, “How can I partner with you?”
• Monitor your event afterwards. Lindsey always tries to reach out to those who had a bad experience with Restaurant Week and amend the situation with the restaurant.

The Social Media Revolution: How Social Networking Sites Can Make or Break Your Career

The self-explanatory panel included Communication Journey‘s Louise DiCarlo (@LovelyLu), WordHampton Public Relation’s Steve Haweeli (@SteveHaweeli), Long Island Patch‘s David Reich-Hale (@drhli), and St. Joseph’s College’s Thomas Whitby (@TomWhitby). Some points discussed:

• There’s no longer a separation between social and traditional media
• Patch.com is seeing traffic pouring in from social media sites
• In order for professors to stay relevant, they have to keep with technology. Students are digital citizens.
• Using social media, potential employers can find out information about you that they’re not legally allowed to ask you in an interview
• Google yourself at least once weekly
• Technology is shifting towards the smartphone
• You have to stay on top of social media if you want communication to keep going.
• Brian Solis and Chris Brogan are highly recommended social media sources
• The ideal personal tweet to sale tweet ratio on Twitter should be 10 to 1

As Local As Local News Gets

Back for round two with David Reich-Hale, who was joined by former Long Island Business News colleague Carl Corry (@CarlCorry), who’s now with Newsday. (I’d met Carl a few weeks ago at the first-ever Newsday Tweet-Up, which he put together.) The duo honed in on using social media to take news to a more local (and in Patch.com’s case, hyperlocal) level. Both publications are very active on Twitter (@LongIslandPatch and @Newsday). Patch.com requires its local reporters to be posting something at least every four hours on Twitter and Facebook; Newsday, on top of linking to stories, uses it to tweet other items of interest to Long Islanders that may not necessarily make it to publication. Newsday‘s seeking to become even more localized, and is incorporating more reader-generated media, such as photos and videos (case in point: yesterday’s Twitter request for storm photos). Long Island has a dearth of community newspapers, which is why the region was one of Patch.com’s first targets – we’re not like David’s former stomping grounds of New Haven, Conn., which had five or six alone in the surrounding community.

You can find out more about the event by checking out the other sessions and following #SMCampLI on Twitter. The day ended with lots of door prizes, the top being a highly sought-after iPad. I didn’t win the iPad (I guess winning one Apple product in the past year was enough), but I did win a pair of fabulous garnet and labradorite earrings from jewelry artisan @SueanneShirzay (you can check out the Alejandro earrings and the rest of her jewelry at Etsy).

Alejandro Earrings by Sueanne Shirzay

Afterwards, most of the attendees met at Public House 49 in Patchogue for a post-event happy hour. While walking down Main Street, I encountered a man sitting on a planter. He was holding a brand-new package of three washcloths. He took out the top one, and asked me what color it was. I replied, “Teal,” assuming his spectrum was limited to Crayola’s 16-color box of crayons and he didn’t know the fancy name for the bright cloth in front of me. He said, “I’m colorblind – just making sure it wasn’t pink.” Gotcha. I pointed out that one of the other washcloths was pink. He quickly pulled it out of the package and said, “Here! You take it!” He seemed offended by it – guess he was too manly.

I now own a fuzzy pink washcloth.

I was also taped along with a few others for a short video clip:

Exciting!

You can tell easily tell the beachgoer from the regular commuter. Beachgoers are Teva, Havaianas, polo shirts, and sundress-clad; smell heavily of suntan lotion or preppy cologne; carry Vera Bradley duffel bags and totes; have cell phones glued to their ears; and sometimes bring along a small dog, usually without a leash or crate. Your regular commuter is dressed for work, whether business suit or hard hat; has a monthly pass hanging around his neck; carries a newspaper and cup of coffee or platform beer; and attempts to sleep the entire way home.

There are unspoken rules that the regular commuter follows. If there aren’t enough seats, allow someone to sit down next to you. If someone was on the platform before you, allow them to enter the train first. Speak softly on your cell phone. Don’t bug to the commuter next to you if he’s sleeping. Don’t eat smelly food or wear heavy perfume. For the most part, this ends in a peaceful ride home (at least when there aren’t service delays).

But not on Summer Fridays.

The beachgoers arrive in one big swoop, acting like they own the railroad for $46 round trip. You wouldn’t believe the rudeness I’ve encountered. One man sat in the middle seat of a three-seater and refused to move when two people asked him to scoot over so they could sit together. More than once I’ve been woken up by a loud cell phone argument or having beer spilled on me. And in 2006, a beachgoer had her poodle in the seat next to her, while I had a long day at work and just wanted to sit down. She told me, “No, my poodle is sitting here.” Well, Mr. Poodle was not in a carrier, which is against LIRR rules, so I summoned a conductor. The conductor asked her if the dog had a ticket (of course not) and forced her to move to the vestibule – success!

Oh, those poor conductors. I know they have to deal with much more than us regular commuters fighting for a seat. You can hear a certain testiness in their voices some Fridays. “Move your bags! Your dogs must be contained! No, you have to switch at Babylon, not Jamaica! Get your feet off the seats, I told you twice already!”

I’m not saying that all beachgoers are rude, but the more-than-few are enough to make me work remotely on Fridays. On those rare Fridays I don’t work from home, I always leave from Long Island City to avoid the Penn Station logjam. I’m not asking that the beachgoers take the Hampton Jitney every week – only that they follow the unspoken rules that us monthly commuters already have in place. It will make the ride much more pleasant for everyone.

Recommended Reading:

The Rude Hamptons

The first show, in Holmdel, NJ went off without a hitch (except for my funky dance moves, which really was spazzing from my post-Neulasta injection bone pain). Two nights later at Jones Beach, Long Island, I was determined to have even more fun. I danced wildly to “Don’t Stop Believin,’” ran to the stage to catch a flying drum stick, and even went backstage to meet the band. In the midst of all the excitement, the temporary port that was put in my arm for chemotherapy fell out. Oops.

Me and Journey lead singer Steve Augeri, the night my port fell out

The next day, I marched into the oncologist’s office with the snaking port in a gallon-sized Ziploc bag. The RN looked at me incredulously, and said, “Don’t you know that you are sick?”

I replied, “I’m not sick, I just have cancer.”

I wasn’t sick. Perhaps minorly inconvenienced. Cancer wasn’t, isn’t, and will never rule my life, and yesterday, I had the pleasure of meeting hundreds of young adult cancer survivors with the same kick-ass attitude at I’m Too Young For This! Cancer Foundation‘s third annual OMG! Cancer Summit for Young Adults at Pace University in New York City.

When I was originally diagnosed, I admit that I was scared. I had a somewhat rare form of lymphoma that mostly hits adults in their 50s and 60s, and didn’t know much about fighting cancer. I went to church the week after the diagnosis, where a woman came up to me and said, “I want you to meet my friend. She had cancer, and can tell you all about it.”

She walked me over to her friend, and introduced me. Apparently, her friend was not warned that she’d be talking to me. She put her nose up and said, “We don’t talk about that. It never happened.” Then she walked away. Walked away. She had a chance to do something good, but instead shunned me.

That was only the beginning of the isolation I felt as a young adult with cancer. Sure, I had family and friends to support me, but most didn’t understand what I was going through, except my friends Sheena and Tanya, who were also young. Most cancer survivors I met were much older, and didn’t have the prospects of a post-college life ahead of them. I sat down once with a social worker, who suggested I go on anti-depressants and see a psychiatrist even before I opened my mouth (and not realizing how okay I was with having cancer). And I was the only person under the age of 45 who attended my local  Look Good… Feel Better program. There weren’t many resources for cancer patients my age.

What I learned yesterday: there are over a million young adult survivors out there like me. Seventy thousand young adults aged 15-40 are diagnosed with cancer each year, yet our survival rates and quality of life has not increased in the past 30 years – 10,000 die each year, which according to i[2]y’s website is seven times greater than those who die of childhood cancer (check out i[2]y’s sizzle video for more stats). Not cool.

Despite the odds stacked against many of us, I did not meet one Debbie Downer in that room. We’re not sick, we just have cancer. Even a thirtysomething woman who is scheduled for a radical double mastectomy in two weeks had one of the biggest smiles in the room. Lymphoma, leukemia, cervical cancer, brain cancer, testicular cancer, uterine cancer, sarcoma, melanoma, nasopharyngeal carcinoma – those weren’t even half of the cancers I encountered. We shared similar stories of being misdiagnosed, the fun side effects, our uncertainties, and our hopes. Regardless of our different diagnoses, we were all there for a common cause: to collaborate, communicate, and get the message out there that the young adult cancer community will no longer be ignored.

The summit included panel discussions on oncofertility, employment and insurance, social media advocacy (neat video they showed), sex and relationships, and survivorship. There were also keynotes by Stand Up 2 Cancer‘s Diane Balma and Survivor: Africa winner Ethan Zohn (check out his video on cancer filmed for People magazine). One of my favorite quotes came from testicular cancer survivor Matthew Imerman, who said we should be called cancer crushers rather than survivors.

After I went back to work in 2006, I lost touch with my cancer self and a lot of what I promised to do for others undergoing treatment, including volunteering. Yesterday inspired me to return to the cause and not become the person who shunned me when I needed help. When I got home, I signed up for Imerman Angels as a survivior. I’m also walking in the Leukemia & Lymphoma Society’s Light the Night Walk for the fourth year ( join me October 23 at Citibank Park on Long Island, or donate).

If you couldn’t attend the summit, it was taped – you can view the video here.

Other Recommended Links:

• i[2]y: Website | Twitter | Facebook | The Stupid Cancer Show
• Oncofertility: My Oncofertililty | Fertile Hope
• Employment and Insurance: Cancer Legal Resource Center | CancerCare | Cancer and Careers
• Social Media: Mashable
• Support: Tamika & Friends | Life With Cancer | Imerman Angels | The Yellow Umbrella | First Descent
• Times Square’s Naked Cowboy gives cancer the finger (via i[2]y founder Matthew Zachary)

The song is from a video called Be Somebody… or Be Somebody’s Fool from 1984. The video not only includes Mr. T, but a young Martika (of “Toy Soldiers” fame) and Stacey Ferguson, also known as Fergie of the Black Eyed Peas. Both were in the ’80s show Kids Incorporated.

He yelled for me to meet him at the next station, so I waited for another Beitou line train (which he was on). I didn’t realize that the train following his, a Danshui line train, would also stop at the next station. (For you New Yorkers: it’s just like taking either the C or E to get to 23rd Street, yet one ends in Manhattan while the other ends in Brooklyn.) So when he didn’t see me get off the following train, he hopped on to see if I was still on the train, traveling to yet the next station.

Meanwhile, I get off the Beitou line train, only to find no Lexcie on the platform. I stay put, hoping (and starting to get a wee bit panicky) that he will realize I was waiting there. He did catch the next train back, and we were reunited. Success! But we then realized we never discussed a game plan if we’d gotten separated. Eleven days with no separation seemed too good to be true. With only a day and a half left to go, we deciced that if we were to get split up again, we’d meet at Taipei Main Station, in front of the souvenir shop. Girl and Boy Scouts, we are not.

Sunday

Sunday, we decided to spend in the morning in Hsinchu, where Lexcie lived for a few years while he was in middle school. We took the train to this beautiful, historical station. Hsinchu was yet another bustling city, with much of what we’ve seen already in Taipei and Kaohsiung, yet on a smaller scale. We only had a few hours, so we decided to walk around town.

We happened upon a small river, which we found out was once a moat. Right next to it was the Yieng-Siyi Gate, which it protected. Now the moat is filled with to the brim with fish. We at first thought it was just a few koi, but as the fish food we threw down disappeared with no koi nearby, we realized there were tons of black and grey fish that were hardly discernable also swimming about.

We then hopped the local Number 1 bus to take a ride to Lexcie’s old hometown, where he showed me what it was like to be a suburbanite in Taiwan. Unlike Taipei’s buses, these were practically coach buses (and when you wanted to get off, you pressed a button that played “It’s a Small World.”) See the multi-level condos? That’s what’s considered suburban houses. Single-family homes – at least what we’re used to in the US – are rare, although we did find a classic Chinese-style single-family house off of an alleyway.

We didn’t have time for lunch, so we stopped at a 7-Eleven for a quick bite. or a Big Bite, in my case. I thought it was the perfect time to see if their New York hot dogs were indeed like home’s (and not trying to pull the same trick a Massachusetts vendor tried to pull on me when he handed me a white sausage and proudly called it a hot dog). It looked the part, until I found out that the store only had honey mustard. It would have to do, because I was not going to put ketchup or thousand island dressing on it. And the taste result? Pork flavored tofu. It tasted exactly like a Not Dog. Fail.

After we left Hsinchu, Lexcie wanted to ride an EMU300, an older Italian-made train. Unlike most train systems, Taiwan Railways Association tells you what train is going to be on each route. So we took followed a certain schedule to assure we’d be on the EMU300. However, on our way to Hsinchu earlier, we had seen the empty train sitting in a station, which wasn’t a good sign. The train never came, and was instead replaced with an everyday piece of equipment, which was a disappointment. However, skipping that train allowed us to catch an EMU100, which had already been retired but was running as an extra.

For dinner, we had Sushi Express, a conveyor-belt sushi restaurant. The dishes come past you, you take what you want, then pay $30 TWD ($1 USD) per plate you eat.

We finished the night (after the whole getting-split-up incident) at the Shilin Night Market, which is one of Taiwan’s most famous and largest night markets. However, we were disappointed. Too much of a tourist trap – food was overpriced, it was much too crowded, and we were night market-ed out by that point. We did get this humungous semi-cured sausage that cost $100 TWD (about $4 USD) and this HeySong (Taiwan’s local beverage company) lemon drink that I can only describe as melted Jell-O or congealed lemonade. It was certainly a strange texture.

On the way home, we met two tourists from Chicago who were only in town for two days. It was a stopover before China for one; the other just joined him for the two days. I wouldn’t be able to handle such a long flight for just 48 hours!

Monday

The skies finally cleared up, so we decided to go back to Taipei 101 to ride the world’s fastest elevator up to the 89th floor (only 37 seconds) and get some great shots of the city. The world’s second-tallest building (which was knocked off its pedestal in January by Burj Dubai) offered spectacular views, so we took some shots before checking out some artwork scattered about the floor and the building’s tuned mass damper (the golden globe below), a sort of pendulum that sways to offset building movement from typhoon gusts or earthquake tremors (speaking of, one hit Sunday, but we didn’t feel a thing). It’s the first publically viewable one in the world, and spurred Taipei 101′s “Damper Baby” characters, which are seen in little statuettes around the building. On our way back, we were forced to walk through what may have been the world’s largest gift shop, where Lexcie made a new friend.

A funny sign in Taipei 101′s restroom. Westerners have trouble with the Eastern squat toilets; guess it’s the same the other way around? However, I don’t think that the building gives people enough credit to not pee on the floor if there’s obviously no hole in the ground to do so.

Afterwards, we went on the seach for the elusive EMU300 train, but was again hit with a replacement train – guess it wasn’t meant to be (but here are most of the tickets from our train trips this vacation, some which were used to chase this train). On the opposite end of the train spectrum, we also rode TRA’s newest Taroko train, which reminded me of Amtrak’s Acela.

By then, we were starving, so we headed back to the Shilin area to eat at one of the most uniquely themed restaurants I’ve seen. Toilets. At Modern Toilet, you sit on toilets, eat on a Plexiglass-covered sink, drink your coffee and eat your food out of mini porcelin toilets, have ice cream in mini squat toilets, and use toilet paper for napkins (against a Louis Vuitton-inspired wallpaper). The ambiance is provided by modified urinal lighting. Below, Lexcie got beef curry and I coconut chicken; we were surprised that we didn’t receive chocolate swirl ice cream for dessert.

And so ends our trip to Taiwan. We’re leaving for the airport in a few hours and should be home by 10 pm on Tuesday. We have a six-hour layover in Japan; then we’ll fly to JFK, take the Air Train, and then the LIRR to home sweet home. I’m looking forward to my comfy bed – all the beds here are slightly softer than rocks. However, this was one of the best experieces of my life and I was happy I could share it with you all.