Humor 5/25/99: Views on Aging & A Birthday Party

Hi everyone,

I had a great weekend in Seattle. The weather was awesome. My friends
and I went to the flagship REI store and climbed the 65 feet indoor
mountain. They have all the climbing equipment and employees who will
make sure you are safe. If you ever visit Seattle, I would highly
recommend it.

I saw "Phantom Menace" on opening night. I liked it a great deal, but
it was not as good I had hoped it to be. I guess I'm a victim of the
hype. What do you think of the movie?

This coming weekend I'll be going to my church's conference at the
Arrowhead Springs site in the mountains. It should be a really good
conference.

This past Saturday, I crashed the surprise birthday party of this really
nice guy because my friends in Seattle were all going to it. (Happy
birthday Tim!) So, in honor of birthdays, the thought provoking
question, humor and inspirational story will be related to birthdays.

This week's thought provoking question is: "If you could have stopped
aging at any point in your life up to the present, how old would you
want to remain?"

This week's humor email was forwarded by Jennifer Chin, and the
inspirational story was forwarded by someone from the IVGCF mail list.
Enjoy!

-Josh.
_________________________________________

Views on Aging

Do you realize that the only time in our lives when we like to get old
is when we're kids? If you're less than ten years old, you're so excited
about aging that you think in fractions.

"How old are you?"
"I'm four and a half."
You're never 36 and a half ....you're four and a half going on 5.

You get into your teens; now they can't hold you back. You jump to the
next number. "How old are you?" "I'm gonna be 16." You could be 12, but
you're gonna be 16. Eventually.

Then the great day of your life; you become 21. Even the words sound
like a ceremony. You BECOME 21....Yes!!

Then you turn 30. What happened there? Makes you sound like bad milk. He
TURNED; we had to throw him out. What's wrong? What changed? You BECOME
21; you TURN 30.

Then you're PUSHING 40....stay over there. You REACH 50.

You BECOME 21; you TURN 30; You're PUSHING 40; you REACH 50; then you
MAKE IT to 60.

By then you've built up so much speed, you HIT 70. After that, it's a
day by day thing. You HIT Wednesday...

You get into your 80's; you HIT lunch, you HIT 4:30. My grandmother
won't even buy green bananas. "Well, it's an investment, you know, and
maybe a bad one."

And it doesn't end there....

Into the 90's, you start going backwards. "I was JUST 92."

Then a strange thing happens; if you make it over 100, you become a
little kid again. "I'm 100 and a half."

Happy aging!
____________________________

A Birthday Party

Tony Campolo, professor of sociology at Eastern College, tells the story
of his visit to Honolulu for a Christian Conference. On his first night
there, he awoke sometime after three (a six hour time difference had
confused his sleep pattern) and left the hotel in search of a place to
get something to eat. Eventually he found a tiny coffee shop. He walked
in and sat down. Here is his description of the events:

The fat guy behind the counter came over and asked me, "What do you
want?" I told him I wanted a cup of coffee and a donut. As I sat there
munching on my donut and sipping my coffee at 3:30 in the morning, the
door suddenly opened, swung wide and to my discomfort in marched 8 or 9
provocative and rather boisterous prostitutes. It was a small place and
they sat on either side of me. Their talk was garrulous, loud and crude.
I felt completely out of place. I was just about to make my getaway when
I heard the woman sitting next to me say, "You know, tomorrow is my
birthday. I'm going to be 39." Her friend responded in a rather nasty
tone, "So what do you want from me? A birthday party? What do you want?
Do you want me to get a cake, and sing happy birthday to you?" "Come
on," the women sitting next to me said, "why do you have to be so mean?
I'm just telling you that's all. Why do you have to put me down? I was
just telling you that it is my birthday. I don't want anything from you.
I mean, why should I have a birthday party? I've never had a birthday
party in my whole life. Why should I have one now?"

Tony Campolo goes on; "When I heard that," he said, "I made a decision.
I sat and waited until the woman left and then I called over to the
counter to the fat guy and asked him, "Do they come in here every
night?" "Yeah," he answered. "The one right next to me", I asked, "does
she come in here every night?" "Yeah," he said, "that's Agnes. Yeah, she
comes in here every night. Why do you want to know?" "Because," I
replied, "I heard her say that tomorrow is her birthday. What do you say
we do something special for her? What do you think about throwing a
birthday party for her, right here in the diner?" A cute kind of smile
crept over that fat man's chubby cheeks. He answered with measured
delight, "That's a great idea. I like it. That's great. Agnes is one of
those people who is really nice and kind. I don't think anybody has ever
done anything nice and kind for her." "Well, look" I told him, "if it is
OK with you, I'll be back here tomorrow morning at 2:30. I'll decorate
the place. I'll even get a birthday cake for her." "No way," he
retorted, "the birthday cake, that's my thing. I'll bake the birthday
cake."

Two-thirty the next morning, Tony Campolo reports, I was back at that
diner. I picked up some crepe paper and other decorations at the store,
and made a sign of big pieces of cardboard that read, "Happy Birthday,
Agnes!" I decorated that diner from one end to the other. I had that
diner really looking great. The word must have gotten out on the street
because by 3:15 that next morning every prostitute in Honolulu was in
that place. There was wall-to-wall prostitutes - and me. At 3:30 on the
dot the door of the diner swung open and in came Agnes and her friend. I
had everybody ready; after all, I was sort of the informal master of
ceremonies of this whole affair. It was my idea, so when they came in
we all jumped up and screamed and we sang, "Happy birthday, Agnes!" And
you know, I've never seen a person so flabbergasted, so stunned, so
shaken. Her mouth fell open, her knees started to buckle, her friend had
to offer her arm to steady her, and I noticed she had started to cry.

When the birthday cake with all the candles was carried out, that's when
she just lost it. She started sobbing. Harry, the fat guy, behind the
counter he gruffly mumbled, "Blow out the candles, Agnes, blow out the
candles." Then he handed her a knife, and he ordered, "Cut the cake,
Agnes, cut the cake." Agnes looked down at that cake, and then without
taking her eyes off it, she slowly and softly said, "Look, Harry, is it
all right with you if I, I mean, if I don't, what I want to ask, is it
OK if I keep the cake a little while? Is it all right if we don't eat
it right away?"

Harry shrugged and answered, "Sure, Agnes, that's fine, you want to keep
the cake, keep the cake, take it home if you want." "Oh, could I?" she
asked. Looking at me she said, "I live just down the street a couple
doors; I want to take the cake home, is that OK? I'll be right back,
honest." She got off her stool, she picked up that cake, and she carried
it out of that diner like it was the Holy Grail. She walked slowly
toward the door, and we all stood there just speechless. When the door
closed behind her, there was stunned silence in the place.

Not knowing what else to do, I broke the silence by saying, "What do you
say we pray together?" Looking back on it now, it seems more than a
little strange that a sociologist from eastern PA would be leading a
prayer meeting with a bunch of prostitutes in a diner in Honolulu at
3:30 in the morning. But I prayed. I prayed for Agnes. I prayed for her
salvation. I prayed that her life would be changed, and that God would
be good to her. And when I finished, Harry leaned over, and with a trace
of hostility in his voice he said, "Hey, you never told me you were a
preacher. What kind of preacher are you anyway? What church do you
belong to?" In one of those moments when just the right words came, I
answered him quietly, "I belong to a church that throws birthday parties
for prostitutes at 3:30 in the morning." Harry thought a moment, and
then almost sneered as he answered, "No you don't; there is no church
like that. In fact," he concluded, "if there was, I'd join it."
--
_____________________________________

Joshua Li
431 S. Burnside Ave. #12 B
Los Angeles CA 90036
(323)936-8476
Permanent Email: joshli@post.harvard.edu
http://personal.anderson.ucla.edu/joshua.li/

Humor 5/17/99: Nu Yawk, Nu Yawk & Things to Remember

Hi everyone,

It was a beautiful weekend here in Southern Cal, and I had a good time
hanging out with friends in Newport Beach and Irvine. This coming
weekend, I'm looking forward to visiting Seattle and seeing some good
friends from college and my old church in Boston. Next week's humor
email will probably be a day or two late.

Most likely I'll be working in Silicon Valley this summer in high tech
marketing, doing something related to eCommerce. I'm still waiting to
hear back from a few companies. I can't wait to see you all in the Bay
Area, go to Napa for some wine tasting, travel around the area, etc. I
think the summer will be awesome.

This week's thought provoking question is: "If you could have any type
of fresh cut flowers delivered to your home every week, what one type
would you pick?"

A few months ago, I sent out a humor email about Bawstin. This week's
humor email comes from Dave Shim, and it's about my hometown, New York.
After that is an inspirational piece forwarded by Anna Man.

Enjoy!

-Josh.

P.S. By the way, even though you get emails from this joshli@ucla.edu
address, please don't send any emails to this address. I only check
this once a week when I send out these humor emails. Please email me at
joshli@post.harvard.edu, which is my permanent forwarding email address.

______________________________________________

The Top Twenty Signs You're from New York

1. You say "the city" and expect everyone to know that this means
Manhattan.
2. You secretly envy cabbies for their driving skill.
3. You have never been to the Statue of Liberty or the Empire State
Building
4. You can get into a four-hour argument about how to get from Columbus
Circle to Battery Park at 3:30 on the Friday before a long weekend, but
can't find Wisconsin on a map.
5. Hookers and the homeless are invisible.
6. The subway makes sense.
7. The subway should never be called anything prissy, like the Metro.
8. You believe that being able to swear at people in their own language
makes you multi-lingual.
9. You think $7.00 to cross a bridge is a fair price.
10. You've considered stabbing someone just for saying "The Big Apple"
11.Your door has more than three locks.
12.You go to a hockey game for the fighting....In the stands....To
participate.
13.Your favorite movie has DeNiro in it.
14.The most frequently used part of your car is the horn.
15.You consider eye contact an act of overt aggression
16.You call an 8' x 10' plot of patchy grass a yard.
17.You complain about having to mow it.
18.You are a skee-ball juggernaut.
19.You consider Westchester "Upstate". (Because it is, DUH!)
20.You cried the day Ed Koch took over for Wagner.

Bonus Points:
21. When you say "New York" you mean New York City. The rest of the
state is not worth mentioning.
22. The purpose of the Governor is to give our hard-earned tax dollars
to the undeserving people upstate.
23. You know that nobody actually pronounces "33rd and 3rd" as
"turdy-turd an' turd"
24. Jaywalking is an important skill you were taught when learning how
to cross the street.
25. Pedestrians have the right of way at all times, unless you are
driving a car, in which case they are a nuisance and all deserve to be
shot.
26. People from Brooklyn, Queens, Staten Island, the Bronx and New
Jersey are referred to as "Bridge and Tunnel People."
27. You know that all people from places outside of New York/Tri State
Area are inbred hillbillies and often have six fingers.
__________________________________________________

Things To Remember

Your presence is a present to the world.
You're unique and one of a kind.
Your life can be what you want it to be.
Take the days just one at a time.
Count your blessings, not your troubles.
You'll make it through whatever comes along.
Within you are so many answers.
Understand, have courage, be strong.
Don't put limits on yourself.
So many dreams are waiting to be realized.
Decisions are too important to leave to chance.
Reach for your peak, your goal, and your prize.
Nothing wastes more energy than worrying.
The longer one carries a problem, the heavier it gets.
Don't take things too seriously.
Live a life of serenity, not a life of regrets.
Remember that a little love goes a long way.
Remember that a lot goes forever.
Remember that friendship is a wise investment.
Remember where you've parked.
Life's treasures are people-together.
Realize that nothing is ever too late.
Do ordinary things in an extraordinary way.
Have health and hope and happiness.
Take the time to wish upon a star.
And don't ever forget-for even a day-how very special you are.
And also, you shouldn't leave home without a major credit card.
--
_____________________________________

Joshua Li
431 S. Burnside Ave. #12 B
Los Angeles CA 90036
(323)936-8476
Permanent Email: joshli@post.harvard.edu
http://personal.anderson.ucla.edu/joshua.li/

Humor 5/9/99: Just Inspirational Mother Stories

Hi everyone,

Happy Mothers' Day, especially to you moms out there! I hope the rest
of you gave your mom a call, took her out to lunch, or did something
special.

For those of you in the LA area, one cool town to visit is Solvang.
It's about 2.5 hours north of LA, off of the 101. It's a quaint,
Norwegian-like town. All the shops off the main road have that
Swiss-looking architecture. It looks like they have lots of restaurants
and shops with a European flavor. It's a place I want to go back and
really explore.

This weekend I only drove through the town. A group of us officers and
directors from the Entrepreneurial Association went to Prof. Cockrum's
ranch in Solvang to plan out all of next year's events. For those of
you who don't go to Anderson, Prof. Bill Cockrum is an outstanding
professor in the field of entrepreneurship and finance. In fact, he is
rated the best entrepreneurship professor in the country by Business
Week. What really amazes me is that he donates all of his salary back
to the entrepreneurial activities at the school. He doesn't need to
work, because he was a very successful investment banker and corporate
officer.

This week's thought provoking question is: "If you could do any job in
the world for one day, what would it be?"

This week, instead of having a piece of humor, I will just have
inspirational stories involving our moms. The first poem I first sent
out two years ago for Mother's Day. Members from the drama team at my
church in Boston acted this poem out in a pantomime. It was really
touching and I asked someone from the team to send me the words. The
second story is from the Chicken Soup series, and the third one is from
Ethel Lai.

Enjoy!

-Josh.
__________________________________________

When You Thought I wasn't Looking

When you thought I wasn't looking, I saw you hang my first painting on
the refrigerator, and I wanted to paint another one.

When you thought I wasn't looking, I saw you feed a stray cat, and I
thought it was good to be kind to animals.

When you thought I wasn't looking, I saw you make my favorite cake just
for me, and I knew that little things are special things.

When you thought I wasn't looking, I heard you say a prayer, and I
believed there is a God I could always talk to.

When you thought I wasn't looking, I felt you kiss me goodnight, and I
felt loved.

When you thought I wasn't looking, I saw tears come from your eyes, and
I learned that sometimes things hurt, but, it's all right to cry.

When you thought I wasn't looking, I saw that you cared, and I wanted to
be everything that I could be.

When you thought I wasn't looking, I looked... and wanted to say thanks
for all the things I saw when you thought I wasn't looking.

--David Walls
_________________________________________

Steeped with Meaning

My mom and I sat in the small college cafe with out large mugs of
something that smelled like lemon and tasted like home. We were
catching up on the past four months of our lives and the hours just
weren't long enough. Sure, we had talked on the phone and occasionally
written. But the calls were long distance, and it was rare to find a
moment when my roommate wasn't waiting for the phone or my younger
brother or sister weren't waiting for my mom. So while we knew of each
other's experiences, we had not yet dissected them. As we discussed her
new job, and my latest paper, my new love, and her latest interview, I
leaned back into my cushion and thought: I always knew when she became
my mother, but when had she become my friend?

As far back as I can remember my mom was always the first that I came to
with every tear and every laugh. When I lost a tooth and when I found a
friend, when I fell from my bike, and when I got back on it, she was
there. She never judged me; she let me set my own expectations. She
was proud when I succeeded and supportive when I didn't. She always
listened; she seemed to know when I was asking for advice and when I
just needed a good cry. She multiplied my excitement with her own and
divided my frustrations with her empathy and understanding. When she
picked me up from school, she always asked about my day. And I remember
one day asking about hers. I think I was a little surprised that she
had so much to say. We rarely had late night talks (because she was
already asleep), nor early morning ones (because I was not yet up), but
in between the busy hours of our filled days, we found the time to fill
each other's ears with stories and hearts with love. She slowly shared
more and more of her own life with me, and that made me feel more open
with her. We shared experiences and hopes, frustrations and fears.
Learning that she still had blocks to build and to tumble made me more
comfortable with my own. She made me feel that my opinions were never
immature and my thoughts never silly. What surprises me now is not that
she always remembered to tell me "sweet dreams", but that she never
forgot to tell me that she believed in me. When she started going
through some changes in her life, I had the opportunity to tell her that
I believed in her too.

My mother had always been a friend. She had given me her heart in its
entirety; but her soul, she divulged in pieces, when she knew that I was
ready.

I sat across from the woman who had given me my life and then shared
hers with me. Our mugs were empty, but our hearts were full. We both
knew, that tomorrow she'd return to the bustle of Los Angeles and I'd
remain in the hustle of New Haven. I know that we are both growing and
learning. Yet, we continue to learn about each other and grow closer.
Our relationship was like the tea we had sipped, mixed with honey and
lemon, the longer it steeped, the better it tasted.

from A Second Chicken Soup for the Teenage Soul
Copyright 1998 by Jack Canfield, Mark Victor Hansen and Kimberly
Kirberger
_________________________________________

THE MEANEST MOTHER IN THE WORLD.......

We had the meanest mother in the whole world! While other kids ate
candy for breakfast, we had to have cereal, eggs, and toast. When
others had a Pepsi and a Twinkie for lunch, we had to eat sandwiches.
And you can guess our mother fixed us a dinner that was different from
other kids had too.

Mother insisted on knowing where we were at all times. You'd think we
were convicts in a prison. She had to know who our friends were, and
what we were doing with them. She insisted that if we said we would be
gone for an hour, we would be gone for an hour or less.

We were ashamed to admit it, but she had the nerve to break the "Child
Labor Laws" by making us work. We had to wash the dishes, make the
beds, learn to cook, vacuum the floor, do laundry, and all sorts of
cruel jobs. I think she would lay awake at night thinking of more
things for us to do.

She always insisted on us telling the truth the whole truth, and nothing
but the truth. By the time we were teenagers, she could read our minds,
and life was really tough.

She wouldn't let our friends just honk the horn when they drove up.
They had to come up to the door so she could meet them. While everyone
else could date when they were 12 or 13, we had to wait until we were
16.

Because of our mother we missed out on lots of things other kids
experienced. None of us have ever been caught shoplifting, vandalizing
other's property, or ever arrested for any crime. It was all her fault.

We never got drunk, took up smoking, stayed out all night, or a million
other things other kids did.

Sundays were reserved for church, and we never missed once. We knew
better than to ask to spend the night with a friend on Saturdays.

Now that we have left home, we are all God-fearing, educated, honest
adults. We are doing our best to be mean parents just like our Mom was.

The world just doesn't have enough mean moms anymore.

GOD BLESS ALL OF OUR MOM'S LIVING OR DECEASED...
WE LOVE THEM AND THANK THEM FOR BEING SO MEAN TO US.....
--
_____________________________________

Joshua Li
431 S. Burnside Ave. #12 B
Los Angeles CA 90036
(323)936-8476
Permanent Email: joshli@post.harvard.edu
http://personal.anderson.ucla.edu/joshua.li/

Humor 5/4/99: Baked Beans & The Window

Hi everyone,

Some of you must be wondering what happened to me. It's been about
three weeks since my last humor email. Well, I've been extremely busy.
For the first of the three weekends, I went up to Stanford for the
annual business school charity & sports competition. I played table
tennis for our school. I'm glad to say that UCLA won back the trophy
this year (Golden Briefcase). However, I ended up hanging out with some
of you in Palo Alto and San Francisco, and didn't really even watch too
many of the events. But I had a great time.

Two weekends ago, I was busy working on my business plan for the Knapp
Business Plan Competition at our school. In fact all last week, I
generally slept 4 hours a night, and the night before it was due, I
slept only 1.5 hours. Needless to say, I was extremely tired. But I
got it in on time.

This past weekend, I worked on the Powerpoint presentation for the
business plan. I presented my idea to a panel of venture capitalists
last night. Even though I didn't make it to the final round, the
learning experience is quite valuable and I received some good
feedback. I guess during this summer, I'll continue to refine my idea.
Basically, it's an Internet start-up that will deliver various
productivity tools to businesses over the Internet.

I did have some fun mixed in with all the work. I saw "The Matrix" and
"Entrapment". I liked both and recommend them if you haven't seen
them. I also spent a day in Santa Barbara with my entrepreneurial
mentorship group. For part of the day we met on the beach, then played
beach volleyball. We had dinner at this really good restaurant called
"The Palace". I highly recommend this place. Make reservations.

Now that I'm done with the business plan competition, I can get to some
of the things that I've neglected, including looking for a summer job.
I'm still not sure whether I want to work in the Bay area or here in LA.

For those of you in the Seattle area, I'll be visiting from Thursday
night, May 20th, to Monday May 24th. Hopefully we can get together and
hang out.

This week's thought provoking question is: "If you could eat one food
in any quantity for the rest of your life with no ill affects
whatsoever, what food would you choose?"

This week's humor is really funny, and it was forwarded by Susan
Hasegawa. After that is an inspirational story sent by Monica Quock.

Enjoy!

-Josh.
________________________________________________

Once upon a time there lived a woman who had a maddening passion for
baked beans. She loved them but unfortunately they had a very
embarrassing and somewhat lively effect on her. Then one day she met a
guy and fell in love. When it became apparent that they would marry she
thought to herself 'He is such a sweet and gentle man, he would never go
for this carrying on.' So she made the supreme sacrifice and gave up
beans.

Some months later her car broke down on the way home from work. Since
She lived in the country she called her husband and told him that she
would be late because she had to walk home. On the way she passed a
small diner and the odor of baked beans was more than she could stand.
Since she still had miles to walk, she figured that she could walk off
any ill effects by the time she reached home. So, she stopped at the
diner and before she knew it she had consumed three large orders of
baked beans. All the way home she putt-putted.

Upon arriving at home she felt reasonably sure that she could control
it. Her husband seemed excited to see her and exclaimed delightedly,
"Darling, I have a surprise for dinner tonight". He then blindfolded
her and led her to her chair at the table. She seated herself and just
as he was about to remove the blindfold from his wife the telephone
rang. He made her promise not to touch the blindfold until he returned.
He then went to answer the phone.

The baked beans that she had consumed were now beginning to affect her.
The pressure was becoming almost unbearable, so while her husband was
out of the room she seized the opportunity, shifted her weight to one
cheek, and let it go. It was not only loud, but it smelled like cabbage
cooking in a high school locker room on a hot August afternoon. She took
her napkin and fanned the air around her vigorously. Then, she shifted
to the other cheek and ripped three more. At this point it smelled like
a bulk truck full of rotten potatoes running over a skunk in front of a
pulpwood mill.

When the phone farewells signaled the end of her freedom, she fanned the
air a few more times with her napkin, placed it on her lap and folded
her hands upon it, smiling contentedly to herself. She was the picture
of innocence when her husband returned. Apologizing for taking so long,
he asked her if she had peeked, and she assured him that she had not. At
this point, he removed the blindfold, and there was her surprise! There
were twelve dinner guests seated around the table to wish her a Happy
Birthday!!
_________________________________

Two men, both seriously ill, occupied the same hospital room. One man
was allowed to sit up in his bed for an hour each afternoon to help
drain the fluid from his lungs. His bed was next to the room's only
window. The other man had to spend all his time flat on his back. The
men talked for hours on end. They spoke of their wives and families,
their homes, their jobs, their involvement in the military service,
where they had been on vacation. And every afternoon when the man in the
bed by the window could sit up, he would pass the time by describing to
his roommate all the things he could see outside the window.

The man in the other bed began to live for those one-hour periods where
his world would be broadened and enlivened by all the activity and color
of the world outside. The window overlooked a park with a lovely lake.
Ducks and swans played on the water while children sailed their model
boats. Young lovers walked arm in arm amidst flowers of every color of
the rainbow. Grand old trees graced the landscape, and a fine view of
the city skyline could be seen in the distance.

As the man by the window described all this in exquisite detail, the man
on the other side of the room would close his eyes and imagine the
picturesque scene. One warm afternoon the man by the window described a
parade passing by. Although the other man couldn't hear the band he
could see it in his mind's eye as the gentleman by the window portrayed
it with descriptive words.

Days and weeks passed. One morning, the day nurse arrived to bring water
for their baths only to find the lifeless body of the man by the window,
who had died peacefully in his sleep. She was saddened and called the
hospital attendants to take the body away. As soon as it seemed
appropriate, the other man asked if he could be moved next to the
window. The nurse was happy to make the switch, and after making sure he
was comfortable, she left him alone.

Slowly, painfully, he propped himself up on one elbow to take his first
look at the world outside. Finally, he would have the joy of seeing it
for himself. He strained to slowly turn to look out the window beside
the bed. It faced a blank wall. The man asked the nurse what could have
compelled his deceased roommate who had described such wonderful things
outside this window. The nurse responded that the man was blind and
could not even see the wall. She said, "Perhaps he just wanted to
encourage you."

Epilogue...There is tremendous happiness in making others happy, despite
our own situations. Shared grief is half the sorrow, but happiness when
shared, is doubled. If you want to feel rich, just count all of the
things you have that money can't buy.
--
_____________________________________

Joshua Li
431 S. Burnside Ave. #12 B
Los Angeles CA 90036
(323)936-8476
Permanent Email: joshli@post.harvard.edu
http://personal.anderson.ucla.edu/joshua.li/