A Journey (Closed)

Start Proper, End Proper

2006-08-31T08:00:00.000-07:00

It's a sunny but chilly day today, just the kind that all students want for school.

I mean it to be my last entry in this blog.

To get myself into the departing mood, allow me to summarize my first year in BU first.

My worst time would be early May this year. Love became an illusion and confusion. I had insomnia for the first time in my life, staying awake until dawn. And the next morning, I slept in. Kathryn yelled at me unpleasantly, "Tian, you got to get up!" I seriously consider it my worst point in BU. I was hollow, emotionally barren, sterile, and as thin as a dried membrane, prone to crack into millions of pieces and unable to assemble from any moment on. I remained silent in front of all of my friends. Nobody knows. The worst thing was my birthday was coming up so fast. May 9. My two final examinations fell on May 7 and May 8. I didn't know who would celebrate for me. I was deadly afraid of growing old and ugly. I sat shrinking in bed for hours, wanting to study my notes, yet failing to absorb any material at all.

My birthday celebration came to me fine. Julia, Kesha, Jessica, Eileen, Rose, and I went to Noodle Street for dinner. Later, Julia bought me two birthday cakes in Cold Stone. We had my birthday cake in George Sherman Union. They sang me a birthday song and were joined by the other people in the hall. Quite a few of them had final examination on the next day, but they came to celebrate my birthday early because by the time my birthday really arrived, they would be gone, no longer in Boston.

One day before my birthday, Penny, Keoki, Vincent, and I had dinner in Brown Sugar. It seemed fine. Vincent was our new friend. Usually our meal time clique would include just Penny, Keoki, Mike, and me. Vincent was a fast-speaking guy. He had a lot to talk about. So our dinner turned out to be quite lively.

Because Penny mentioned to those two guys about my birthday, they got excited to celebrate it for me. But only Keoki came the next day. I was supposed to go to his place for a drink, but there was a fierce storm outside. I declined his invitation. To my surprise, he bought champagne and six packs of Bacardi and visited me in my room. I remember he withdrew his demand about why I did not want to have dinner with him that evening because I hesitated to give the answer for a long time. I remember he asked me to get plenty of toilet paper in case the champagne would spill all over the place. I remember he poured half a cup of champagne and said "happy birthday" to me. I remember he touched my right cheek when I said the champagne made my face glowing. I remember when I stood up, for the first time in my life, I knew what it meant to be "sober" and "tipsy."

Yes, one little pathetic lonely birthday turned out to have two grand celebrations, which I can have no complaints at all. My prevoius plan was to sit along the lazy river and cry all night, but that never happend. I thought my birthday would be the most miserable birthday in my whole life. My prediction was terribly wrong. My desparation once droved me to write emails to some friends and ask them to send postcards to me. I received postcards from Chang Loong, Peng Le, Zhu Xueni, and Lei the day before my birthday. I am really grateful to them. I showed Keoki those cards when we were in my room drinking.

But, all I want to say now is the last paragraph of You Remind Me of Me by Dan Chaon. Everything has happened too fast to allow you any quality time to think through. Celebration, dinner, Penny left, drinking, moving out of my dorm, and moving into Professor Levine's basement. Those were a lot, man. I had been emotionally paralyzed for more than a week after that.

And you know what? It started raining right after I sent Penny off in the airport. The rain had continued for three weeks afterwards. Boston was under national security guard because many towns had been flooded badly. It was the worst in years. I sat in my apartment thinking why was everything so wrong. I couldn't find a job despite many attempts. I was very miserable. And I was all alone.

Now come to think about it, how did I ever manage to walk myself out of it? Keoki asked me to go to his apartment for drinks. I went. He asked me to have drinks with his friends. I didn't go. Keoki asked me to go for a rumba class with him. I said "yes." But he changed his mind right before the class. Why didn't I have dinner with him on my birthday? I have to keep that secret for a litter longer.

I have indeed gone though so much. On the outside, I am so strong buecause I seem never crashed by anything. Yah, yah, yah, I am resilient.

That's too fast. I could have indulged myself in the expressed sadness for a little longer. I could have. I wanted.

But I still have more to type. This is the last entry. I can't afford to think about unhappy things. It is like the last moment of your life. Can you ask yourself to think about unhappy things for too long? You can't.

What is my happiest moment in BU last year? Well, it must have been the afternoon Penny and I spent at Boston Common. We just walked around and spoke to each other sporadically. We took pictures. You can see how happy both of us seem in those pictures. I am not a photogenic, but I look really pretty in those pictures. I was truly happy.

There are other times when I was happy. Well, when my first paper ever written in English, and in philosophy got 92, the second highest in class, I was extremely happy. When Mike said "I love you," I felt extremely sweet. When Ms. Feng Tianfang, my middle school teacher, also my favorite teacher in China, came and visited me, I felt extremely blessed. (Her husband died from cancer in America a few weeks before she came and visited me. She was pale.) When my writing professor praised my writing, and when I got two A's for my writing courses, I was elated. When I talked to my cousin a few weeks ago, when I found that she was no longer the shy and speechless girl that I remembered, when she took the initiative to ask me questions and seek solutions from me, I was delighted. When Lei told me that Dad went to Singapore and she showed him my hostel, she brought him to the rooms where I had prevoiusly stayed, I was touched. When Mom told me that she still had a dream, I was happy. When I met Solly online one time and another time, I was happy. I am happy. I am happy now. I am really happy now.
How surprizing, so many things have happened in just 367 days!

Solly just went online. Penny followed. And here comes Mr. Coconut. Just when I was typing "Penny followed." I am hidden. Why? If I am online, just show I am online. But my mood is kinda complicated right now. I don't think I am in a right mood to talk to any of them. But then Solly's words are ringing in my mind, "Share." Share, oh, what does it mean?

I haven't not finished my entry yet.

Live in the moment. But look into the future.

I am taking five courses next semester. I love all of them. And I have made the determination that I will not drop out from any of them. I will not work unless it is school holiday. I will keep writing and reading passionately. I will make lunch sandwiches for myself in my apartment before I leave for school each morning. I will cook Chinese dished for dinner every evening. I will keep watching movies and writing reviews about them. I will speak more in class, just the way I have talked to Solly in the past few weeks. I will hold a birthday party for Jessica. I will sing. I will swim. I will contact those professors who will help me in my future career. I will go to Liu Chang's place and have a chat with him occasionally. I will stop talking to Mike because we are not the same kind although if I were more confident and outspoken, less restrained and polite, we could have been together. That's past, not future. I will maintain my scholarship, so that I will have no worries in the following fall recess and spring break, and I can go on vacation again! Maybe I can go to the Grand Canyon with some old or new good friends. And I will go to Panama next summer. And I will go home next summer. And I will take Nana on a tour. And we may ask Solly to join us. I just can't wait for all my wills to happen at the moment. Well, who knows? Everything is happening now because everything never stops from happening. The clock tickles, time flows.

Ok. Ok. Assure myself again. I am ok, good for the continued journey. May my happiness be shared with all my friends, including my parents.

Not the Reminiscing Kind

2006-08-28T14:14:00.000-07:00

I went to pay the school fees, complete the semester verification, buy the textbooks (both online and in the Barnes & Noble campus store, and send the postcard this morning. I am going to watch Pride and Prejudice after lunch. And I will buy two huge plastic container in order to start packing this evening.

The campus looks revitalized. I could see more students everywhere, in George Sherman Union, in Mugar Library, and in College of Communication. It feels good to see the young faces, some innocent-and-fatuous-looking but lively and energetic anyway. I began to recall the first day when I arrived in BU last year. My planed landed in Boston on August 29, probably right at the hour when Hurricane Katrina hit New Orleans on the land. I came to have a campus tour all by myself on August 30 and got many administrative chores done. Boston is a young city. I remember very clearly that when my plane landed, the sky is clear. All the colors that I could spot were bright and outstanding. That was a wonderful feeling. Despite having no sense of being home, I was elated.

Talking about the sense of home, last Friday when Peter Pan, my bus arrived in Boston, and right at the moment when it passed Boston University, when I saw the three buildings of the West Campus Student Residence, when I then saw Nickerson Field, then Boston University Fitness and Recreational Center, then Aggainis Arena, then Boston University Photonics Center, then Marsh Plaza, then Warren Towers, then the School of Management, I felt home. No kidding, it was exactly like, "I am finally home!" Not to mention the bus was late for one hour due to bad traffic. The trip from New York City to Boston was supposed to last only 4 hours and 30 minutes. I arrived at South Station in Boston at 6:30PM.

Anyway, I am about to end this entry now. I have a queer feeling that any entry that I am writing now may be the last entry of this summer, and of this blog. Right, I will start a new webpage for the new semester. It's more organized that way. Nice and easy.

Past to Present

2006-08-27T13:22:00.000-07:00

I was trying to find a poem that I wrote in December 2003 so that Solly could read it. However, I tried and tried without any luck. I lost the poem. In fact, I lost it with chunks of time and memories around that period. As I browsed through my past emails to Deshuo, to what's his name again, oh, Qiu Yujian, to Hu Lianyi, to Li Shiwen, I realized that Solly is not the first boy/male who enjoys talking to me or writing to me very much. I have turned all the people in the past away despite their sincerity to be my good friend. Why did I do that? I did not like them whole-heartedly. I felt like tricking them into feeling falsely that I liked them whereas in fact I did not at all. I felt like flirting irresponsibly. I felt like revenging for all those women who I have seen or read about, who scourge because of their loved men betray them. I was young. I was silly. I was surly. Levity was all that drove me behind my actions and my words, which were deceiving. Part of the reason was also what my Dad has taught me. I only learned that I should not trust people easily. I had not learned how to trust people until I met Solly. I mean, he is not the solely reason for my big change. But he is crucial. When everything is ready, he must be there to give me the final push. I am sorry for the boys and the men I have talked frivolously in the past. I am really sorry if I have hurt them. But I really hope Solly would not turn me down because of what I have done to others in the past. I don't want to give up another friendship kind of relationship because of my levity. I know I will regret forever if I dare to hurt Solly the same way that I have hurt other people in the past. Solly is not my boyfriend. He is his ex-girlfriend's boyfriend. His heart always reserves a place for her no matter what happens. Even though I can never compete with his ex-girlfriend in terms of many things, and I don't have the energy or impulse to compete with any girls in his life, I don't want to treat Solly the same way that I have treated others before. Solly is really changing me from inside out. Nobody around me knows his existence. But behind many things that I am doing now is Solly. It is that kind of sincere friendship. I love my friend. I finally learnt to love and trust my friend.

Lei is a similar person to Solly. But I have never had the impulse to write something to thank her in this way until yesterday. Mom told me that Lei's mother called her and said that I said she was cute because she sent Lei some duck necks from Wuhan with the help of my Dad. Both mothers were deeply bothered by one comment that I uttered unintentionally. Of course, if Lei never mentioned that to her mother, my mother would never start to think about her past and me. So, Lei caused it all. Lei knew everything before all of us then knew. She never said anything to me. But I know very surely that she knows the kind of person I am. I don't feel threatened at all because she knows me because she is my friend, now and forever.

Even though Solly and I are far apart and we have indeed not known each other very well, I trust him, and I know he trusts me. I really appreciate that. I really do. I also appreciate my friend Zoe. Penny, Zoe, Dad, Mom, Lei, and Solly are the people who said they believe in me. I remember them saying that very clearly. My other friends may have said something similar. But the problem is I only remember them. I only remember them.

Solly is starting to sound like me. I wanted to tell him that I usually got annoyed when that happened in the past. But I held back my tongue. Things are happening happily for Solly and me. I believe so. I called Mom yesterday. Mom said randomly that I should not be very cold to people. She said she regretted that in the past she had been unconcerned about her friends. She said that she did not want me to become her. She said she was not happy that way. If Mom had never told me those things, I would possibly treat Solly just as another passer-by in my life. But her words struck me just at the right time. I became totally touched at that moment. I seemed to get all she wanted to tell me all at once, spontaneously. I don't want to be cold to Solly although I always have the intention to be cold. I feel warm when he is present. I finally let go of my restrains and tell him parts of what I really feel. Like today, I waited for him to go online. I waited half patiently and half impatiently. The fact is that I have waited. And when he was online, I was happy. That was all. If there is a key to my heart, I so wish that Solly will the one who holds that key.

In the past, I didn't want to trust people whole-heartedly because I was afraid that I might get hurt. I might get hurt like the people I have hurt. This time, I don't think so anymore. Although I am still a little angry at Solly, and a little afraid too that he starts to sound like me, I decide not to disturb the natural process of changes. Solly said it might be assimilation. When I saw that word, my anger vanished immediately. Why? I am afraid that he changes to what I like. I am also afraid that I change to what he likes. Assimilation would be the happy medium. I just want we to get used to each other but not totally deferential to each other. I don't want us to become unnaturally ingratiative to each other's needs. I think that would be a disaster. That's why I wanted him to stop becoming me so badly and I wanted to keep my mouth shut so badly. I know he understands. I know he understands perfectly.

He did not make me unhappy today by telling me he missed me and so and so. He was not sentimental or sensitive today at all. We talked about his research. We talked about the modern Chinese history. He told me a book he has read about the relations among China, Japan, and America. We talked a little bit about poems. We talked about a little bit of his sister coming to the States. A little bit of everything. It was totally soothing and fine. We both wanted to school to start just finely. It was just one of those peaceful and engaging conversations that I will remember for a lifetime. You know? It is one of those holy moments which you will remember the feeling of it for the rest of your life. I love it. The word "love" is not being used abusively here.

What will become of us? I hold the same attitude as before. He is holding the same expectation as I do. Assimilation. Good. Solly is taking Film Theory and Criticism next semetser. He said he would think of me on the first day of his class. I would definitely think of him during my film class. I wish he could just be sitting next to me. But it's okay. We can handle dream and reality well. I do. So does he.

Although I am rependent about my past, I will not let myself be burdened by my memories and my actions. I am young, I gotta move forward. I am sorry, but I still have to move on. One day I will handle my past. But not now. I have nothing to lose. I mean, I have to make wise choices for myself after all, right? Right!

It's a happy day for me. I hope that it's a happy night for Solly.

Tug of War

2006-08-20T19:20:00.000-07:00

I saw Solly's email. I wanted to write him back. I could not.

I saw Solly's new entry. I think I understand what he is trying to say. Happy Americans. Happy. I wanted to reply. I could not.

Just because I said I was on vacation. Just because I never said I would miss him. Just because I don't wanna appear anxious over him.

Don't I really care? Don't I really miss him? What's wrong with me?

I watched all the video's of Natalie Portman with Jessica. But I couldn't write a word in his Xanga. Why do I pretend that I did not receive his email? Why do I pretend that I did not see his entry? Alright. Ok. I get it now. I am just tragic. I asked for it after all.

Damn, why do I think about him? I should just calm down and go to the beach with Jessica's family tomorrow.

We went to Applebee for dinner yesterday. Today we went to the woods. Barbecue. Went to see the waterfall. Lily is a ferocious dog. I just learned to get along with Lily.

Really, with Solly, everything thought is a tug of war.

....

Tug - of - War

2006-08-18T16:16:00.000-07:00

I just saw Solly's latest entry in Xanga. He named it Tug of War. The same name as my entry a few days ago. I have to say that what he wrote has gone through my mind already. I am glad to see him thinking the same as I do. I am also forced to look at my own thoughts more closely. We are having a game of tug-of-war. Tension arises when we disagree. Tension arises within ourselves because of the different ways that our hearts and our minds work. But at the same time, we also have a rope. That's a connection. One day, the game may no longer be a game. We just walk closer to each other with the rope in hand and leading us. I suddenly thought of Jane and Mr. Rochester. What Jane told him when he told her that he was going to get married.

http://www.online-literature.com/brontec/janeeyre/23/

One of my favorite passage from Jane Eyre by Charlotte Bronte.

What's with Solly

2006-08-16T19:06:00.000-07:00

It's not easy to recount the whole story at this moment. I want to write everything; but at the same time, I don't want to think too much. Everyone learns from their past mistakes. I'm smart; I learn by heart.

It's my hankering now to sing this song with all my heart.

Tale as old as time / True as it can be / Barely even friends / Than somebody bends / Unexpectedly
Just a little change / Small, to say the least / Both a little scared / Neither one prepared / Beauty and the Beast
Ever just the same / Ever a surprise / Ever as before / Ever just as sure / As the sun will arise
Tale as old as time / Tune as old as song / Bittersweet and strange / Finding you can change / Learning you were wrong
Certain as the sun / Rising in the east / Tale as old as time / Song as old as rhyme / Beauty and the beast

Tug-of-War

2006-08-13T07:31:00.000-07:00

Waiting nothing isn't a pain. Waiting for something, and someone is a pain.

I feel I am no longer in control of myself. I feel I was being too sweet. (Our black chef walked up to me and said, "Someone said you were singing. Sing for me!" And he said something like "a signiture of romance.") I feel I shall not apologize. At the same time, I feel that I shall at least apologize for something. I feel I just need to talk to Solly. What the hell! Where is he?

The Last Bit of this Summer

2006-08-09T09:13:00.000-07:00

I said I would write stories and reviews. I also said I would not force myself. I did not. I started writing them only in August. But everything seems fine.

Recently "moderate," "too much," "too little," and other adjectives that we often use for quantifying amount and intensity are demanding for my attention very stridently. I gave them a thought in a split of my mind every now and then. In the end, should I not know how to define them, but should I know I have learnt and used them, and learnt them again.

Solly questioned me my standards for "often" and "usually." I only start to look at those two words now. His is a brilliant question.

Spontaneousness

2006-08-08T19:19:00.000-07:00

So many things have gone through my mind recently I hardly know what to write here. I don't even have time for blog entries. I have been writing emails, chatting with a friend, and writing stories recently. Everything's so spontaneous. Just all at once. All.

Cut from my Xanga:

I wrote a few stories these days. Writing felt like dreaming, without a concrete plot. I allowed my storylines to change so that my stories would be unpredictable. It's not that my ultimate purpose is being unpredictable. As I wrote, I just explored the possibilities and followed my heart. A very romantic way of expression. Rick changes his mind several times in the movie; but he always chooses the right. I have the same belief in myself and my stories. In the DVD version, the scriptwriters of this movies admitted that they also had a hard time making their minds what should happen in the end.

I may look a little obssessive in outlying each split of the mind in my writing. I may even be termed as being too dreamy. I have too much focus on myself. My characters, no matter how many there are, are essentially one character, that's myself. (This is such a harsh criticism. I said it myself.) But this is not the end of it. This ought not be. I can't see the beauty of myself just like someone may not see the beauty of himself or herself. This ought not be the time to give up my dreams. Everything I am doing now is not well-thought, but artistic. Let me drift away into the newfound land.

Fall

2006-08-07T10:04:00.000-07:00

Why does "fall" mean a season? It's a verb.

Recently, I can dream with my eyes open easily. I can't remember which movie it is in, but it goes like this:

Woman: There're signs.
Man: Signs~ (He goggles at her, throws his arms into the air and waves.)

For a moment, I want to be extremely sentimental. This is bizarre.

I see signs, all around me. Even I don't care to see them, they still pop up in front of me.

The TV is playing Winter Sonata. This is America!

I was taking pictures of my wall. I noticed the girl I painted long ago looked like a real girl.

I walked in the street and it felt exactly like last May.

"Say 'Stop'!" Then I heard Celine saying it.

I will regret I wrote all this down. I am sure.

I Need An Audience

2006-08-06T08:10:00.000-07:00

I realize I am like this: I need an audience. Solly appeared to be nocturnal occasionally in the past two weeks. He preyed on me. I ended up chatting with him for hours, twice. Talking to him is an enriching experience. Our conversations also opened up a myriad of doors for our seemingly precarious friendship that is based on nothing but one meeting and similar interests.

This is like an official opening paragraph. I've put everything in check. So organized and neat. Towards the end of our conversation, Solly would redirect our topic. And it turned out to be relationship. Yesterday I told him something secret, not out of blue, but out of his presence. I never have to tell, but I told. It's fine.

I wrote a story and emailed it to him. A little story tended to help him with his vocabulary, not to mention to satisfy my own mysterious desire to write.

Why do I say I need an audience? Every time I chat with Solly, I have the enormous new energy to learn and learn. I want to have an even greater conversation with him next time. But before I can do that, I have to have substance to tell.

Memories? Solly is unwilling to let it go whereas I never cared too much. If I forget, sometimes I even choose to forget, I don't feel that I've lost my precious memories. I don't mean that I don't remember anything. But definitely I am not as sentimental as he is. Or I have grown out of being sentimental. Why? It's an inscrutable mystery only the Holy God can tell. (I am not religious.)

I called my cousin Nana this morning. She was bright and sprightly as ever. She played a game with me. She posted ten questions for me.

1. What's the smallest bridge in the world?
2. What's is it that has one eye but can't see?
3. What's is it that has two legs but can't walk?
4. What kind of room do you never walk into?
5. What kind of ship is the most difficult to conquer?
6. If you want to remain rich, what should you do?
7. What is it that you always have to break before you eat?
8. What is it that you never borrow but always return?
9. What kind of light is of the best quality and free-of-charge? Not sunlight, but close to it.
10. I really can't remember.

We then talked about ancient Chinese poems. I am surprized that I still can remember so many so well. We enjoyed reciting some of them together. In the end we even sang the one that has been composed to a song.

I could not remember one line. After Nana told me, we commented that it is a very good line in that poem. 此事古难全。

Nana also told me her favorite line in another poem. She asked me to remember by heart.
自古多情伤离别，更那堪冷落清秋节。

As I was Working Just Now

2006-08-03T09:11:00.000-07:00

I recalled Mike's frivolous remarks. I said I read the poems of Edger Allen Poe and remember especially well the one he wrote for his dead wife. Mike said something like: Do you really think that he loved his wife so much that when she died, he led a miserable life? No, his life was already shattering when she died. It was not because of her death.

It's strange I still recall bits and pieces of the conversations I have had long ago with someone. They just pop up from nowhere at random moments. And then I begin to think back, what was my reaction back then? And so what?

Holy Moment

2006-08-02T18:19:00.000-07:00

I was stupid to walk along the Charles to catch a holy moment. It never comes that way. I failed miserably. That's why I am here, nowhere.

Yes, I have another blog where I basically keep track of all the films I have watched, the books I have read, and the music I have listened to. The blog is supposed to be reviews only. But I was never motivated to write a good review as I used to do in junior college.

This evening, on the spur of the moment, I wrote five short paragraphs. They came out of me so naturally that I can't really describe how or explain why. A voice in my head tells me that one day my work will pay me off and win my spurs as a true film-maker. But I almost instantly subdue my own voice (probably in this case it's my own) so that I could refrain myself from dreaming too far ahead and becoming delirious.

Something's bugging me these days. Little things like: what if it's true that our brain enters the dream territory the moment we die? Those six to twelve minutes of brain activity without possible bodily actions will just make us feel like dreaming. We dream and we dream, and we will not be able to get out of the dreams because we are dead. We will keep waking up yet we will always be waking up to another dream. We will be stucked in dreams. And that could be our life really. That could be eternity.

When we dream, are we exposing ourselves to other of our own selves who live parrallely to us? All the possibilities that have gone through our minds go off and live in their own state. There are several we's because we make choices, and in the end, we can only have one choice. Where do the rest go? Well, they become other lives. When we dream, we tap into the general conscious pool.

When babies are born, they have billions of years of memories to draw from. That's how they inherit. That's how they have their conscious.

Not my idea. All of the above belongs to the write-director Richard Linklater. A true film-maker.

Mrs. Feng asked Lei to dissuade me from pursuing film as a life-time career. As I was walking along the Charles today, I recalled the time when she was in Boston and when we were walking along the Charles and when she gave me the same advice, only implicitly. I could have told her at that time that: If I didn't choose to study film, you would never see me in Boston, not America either. It's overdramatic. Good that I never said it in front of her.

But right now, I really have nothing to say about my life-time career, or film. I quit mentioning it to the world that I am a film student. I think it's a wise choice.

Waking Life

2006-08-01T14:16:00.000-07:00

Two sufferings in life: lack of life, or overabundance of life.
Is it fear or laziness that creates the diversity in the human race?
What's the best defense against tyranny?
It's like entering a spectrum of awareness.
The Holy Moment
The instant is the eternity.
Constant saying "No, thank you!" "No, thank you!" until you say "Yes, please!" to God's offer of eternity.
Leon F. Czolgosz once said, "I am not sorry."

A Good-night Chat

2006-08-01T09:05:00.000-07:00

Solly is the boy who came with Jie to Boston last year. He is a philosophy student who is also very interested in film. Sensitive, sentimental, sympathetic, and suave.

A few nights ago, I saw his message in my MSN space. He said he wanted to meet me. Immediately, I knew he didn't mean he would come to Boston again but would like to chat with me online. I signed in my messenger and knocked at him immediately.

We talked about our summer. I was completely oblivious to his unsaid need to clarify a doubt. It was about a girl. He was tormented in her ambiguity of her actions and her words. He wanted to know if she really liked him.

What I had helped him then was none other than answering a few questions from the perspective of a girl who might like him. It was very easy for me to answer those questions because I had always appeared as a rational, logical, and reasonable girl in front of him. I gave a sensible reply to each of his doubts. In the end, he felt much helped.

Yes, you are right. A story can be told as simply as what I have above. I've said so much, but I've also chosen to hide very much too. To hide the rest is to pretend that I'm not sentimental; but to write it down is not to show you that I'm sentimental. Just as the opposite, to write it down means to let it out for me. Yay, to let it out, to make it go, and to move on.

Yesterday I watched Waking Life by Richard Linklater. It's a movie about life versus death, and dream versus reality. Richard Linklater's films always deal with profound philosophical questions. He puts those seemingly erudite ideas in an approachable way, no longer intimidating but engaging. His films speak honestly of what he has always pondered over and what he has struggled to convince himself and others. This earnest presentation of his inner world destines to attract sprightly souls like mine.

I recommended this movie to Solly, although he seemed not to appreciate my effort to make him know it. To tell the truth, I have always wanted to tell somebody that he and I are very alike. But I have never done such a thing. I knew he would not like to know that. And to tell him is like jumping of the cliff of our friendship. I don't want to make a list of how and why we are alike. My statement is purely based on a determinist instinct, which I believe so so imperviously.

When I was chatting with him, nothing seemed weird or out of place. However, after a few days of silence, I started to feel odd. Chatting made us closer, and now he seemed to be drawing away from a closer friendship. I wouldn't say it's unnecessary, but I do find it unacceptable and unfair. (I have had such difficulty to come up with those two adjectives.)

Sergio claimed that he would write a book named Silence. If I start now, I will be faster than him. I will also have more to say. Silence is working between Solly and me just like the way it has worked between Mike and me. Neither of the boys will admit it when confronted. But that's ok, I am writing it down for myself.

I don't exactly hate silence. But I just marvel at the fact that someone could be like me, and I could be just like someone so much. If there's really a God, why would he make me see myself in Solly? Reflection and a chance to reflect? Am I a secret missionary that he has sent to this world? On the other hand, why do I always like to add something divine to my own experience and encounter? And am I questioning too much about the trivial and impractical? What if I keep questioning and one day I am able to make a film like Waking Life? I somehow feel like Richard Linklater has stolen my dreams and thoughts. But he's faster. I'm way behind. How dreadful.

I don't think it's a good idea that people, especially potential boyfriends read this entry. I willfully believe that this unnecessary exposure of my inner self will push us farther, and farther.

In the Mood for Love

2006-07-20T08:58:00.000-07:00

Dismantling.

I have no idea why this word seems so fit for my present taste in movies. Pirates of the Caribbean - Dead Man's Chest isn't bad at all, but I just could not enjoy it as I did for similar movies before. I said I would open my mind and open my heart, but I have only grown narrow-minded after all. Some movies are so bad that I haven't the least patience to finish watching them. Supposedly Happy Together is one of Wong Kar-wai's best films too, but I gave up watching it after the first three minutes. Why? I couldn't stand watching two men having sex. I felt so deceived, disgusted, and hurt.

Below's some scribbling during work today.

Most Americans think that keeping one's feelings to oneself is unhealthy. While that may be true for some, it's too convenient to draw the conclusion that being quiet is unhealthy as well. I don't think that being quiet is a problem at all, both personally and interpersonally. More often than not, it's nothing about being suppressive, or sulky, or gloomy. I'm very surprized that in English there aren't many positive words for being/keeping quiet. The most neutral one I know is probably "reserved." But this one does not hold the equivalence to the Chinese word han xu, which is a combination of being indirect, polite, and suave (without the negative connotation of "suave").

Another thought that has been occupying my mind recently is that finding flaws in one's culture is ridiculous. It's almost the same as finding flaws in one's character. Can we possibly judge which trait is superior over the other? No, not at all. Take anyone as the example: Captain Jack Sparrow, Tony Leung, etc.

And Tony Leung.

You can say he didn't do a good job at the press conference in Canada for In the Mood for Love. He was shy, taciturn, and restrained. But at the same time, he was sensitive, polite, and humble. His English is decent, but he never tried hard to answer any of those questions. Laid-back? That's Maggie's public way of putting it. I know I can be just the same as both of them in different situations. Which do I like better? I have no answer for this question. (Sergio used to laugh at me for my slowness and unwillingness to answer such questions, two choose one. Yes, I always have difficulty choosing which. Two options race in my mind shoulder by shoulder. I don't like to answer. Couldn't you be the same?)

I feel very privileged. And then, very ambitious. And then, very calm. And then, serious. And then, bored. And then, sulky. And then, helpless. And then, suddenly strong, resilient. And then, mature. And then, positive. And then, privileged. And then, ambitious. . . .

Wong Kar-wai: falling in love with his movies; feeling that he could never let it end.
Wong Kar-wai: improvizing on set.

Wong Kar-wai, Michael Wong. And somewhere, I.

Scorching Sun

2006-07-18T09:27:00.000-07:00

In the next three weeks, there won't be a single droplet of rain.
Boston is already scorching under the scorching sun.

Today I saw on the TV at Starbucks (inadvertently) that China's GDP grew 11.3% last year.
And then a surge of joy invaded all my cells.

Jessica invited me to go Wildwood, New Jersey with her family. I'm going.

I finished reading The Keepers of the House by Shirley Ann Grau, which won the 1965 Pulitzer Prize.

Jay threw a big ant on a spider net. We then watched the spider killing the ant. He, then, burnt both using his lighter.

I have become totally disinterested in talking to Sergio. But when I saw so much white hair on his head, I felt very complicated. He's 27 already.

In Singapore, do people say EEkia or Aikia? (IKEA) I remember it's the later. But my Taiwanese friends say that in Taiwan, they use the former.

Blue

2006-07-12T10:08:00.000-07:00

Sieslowski The Color Trilogy

Julia's birthday's coming. Friday's coming. I have totally toally broken my friendship with Sergio.

Vicious Me

2006-07-09T09:42:00.000-07:00

Why do I only know how to hurt people?? People who come close to me??

Went out with Julia, Aileen, Julie, Donavan, and a group of Italian girls to Indian Quality on Friday evening. Had Shrimp Korma as my dinner. Later we went to Newbury Street and enjoyed the ice-creams at Ben and Jerry's. I had a strawberry kiwee smoothie.

Yesterday barbecued with Jay, Amy, Hari the Thai girl, two Koreans, and Joe. We played frisby. I hit the can on the stand first. But Jay hit it three times. So he won eventually. Sergio came back with a book Antipoem. For me. I put on a disinterested face. He went to sleep with his book. Embarrassedly.

Called Mom and Dad. Tried to call Lei three times, failed three times. Called my cousin instead. She was excited. She said she was interested in philosophy.

I hope in future I will hurt fewer people. If I don't have a damn thing to say, just keep quiet. Don't say things that I'll regret. Haiz. Most of the times I don't even mean what I say. A surplus of emotion throw those words out of my mouth. That's all.

Good Writer

2006-07-06T19:29:00.000-07:00

I admire Michael. He has done so much in so few years. Documentaries, feature films, and more. He's very helpful. He always presents himself with good writing. And I think I have the same taste in films as he.

Watched The Dreamlife of Angels (1999) today. I love the ending. Haven't seen such a good movie that moves, strikes, and pokes me in every way possible in so long. Isabelle and Marie.

Started reading The Prince by Machiavelli. A textbook for the European history course next semester. The Prince and the people, and the nobles. Memories are eliminated because the indentation is followed by another.

It's like great ideas all floating in the air. And it's so fortunate that I caught a few today.

Yesterday I read Matt's Beat Zen, Square Zen, and Zen. I couldn't have said it better even in Chinese. A great article to note. Very useful in future. The documentary that I watched a few months ago about the Beat Generation in the 1950s in America has come handy.

One thing that I learned most today, that worths being remembered forever, worthing being entrenched in me is this:

The worst tortue is hating yourself.

The Boston Pops Fireworks Spactacular

2006-07-05T09:00:00.000-07:00

Yesterday, I ran. Along Commonwealth Avenue. Only for a closer view of the fabulous fireworks. I waited for the last minute to leave the house. Amy and Jay invited me to go with their friends to the Charles River before 9PM. I hesitated and let them leave first.

I watched the TV by myself, assuming that I was alone in the house, until Sergio popped up behind me like a ghost. He is back?! I didn't know that.

Maybe it was him, maybe it was something else. Anyway, I was truly triggered to go outside and watch the fireworks although it had already started. I ran to the door, to the street, to the Charles River. I saw people on the bridge. Then I saw more people at the river bank. All heads tilted towards the same direction. All eyes silent. All hearts pounding with excitement.

The fireworks were truly spactacular, fabulous, beautiful. When I finally stopped at the sidework of the Storrow Drive, I was grasping for air. I felt blood boiling in my legs, which could not be moved an inch farther. But so what? I had fireworks in front of me. I didn't care what physical pain I was in at that moment.

I guess I had ran for roughly 5 to 10 minutes, and I only watched the fireworks, the last bits, for about 2 minutes. But I remember every bit vividly. I was excited, unlike those people who had sat along the banks, anticipating the fireworks for hours.

I don't know. Running out of the house, driven by the sudden strong will to see the fireworks with my naked eyes, is an inpromptu decision. Honestly I did not think about it earlier.

I did write in my previous entry that I would go with Amy, Jay, and their friends to watch the fireworks. But when Amy and Jay left, I did not follow. I was feeling something complicated: everytime there's fireworks, I . . . .

This sounds silly, yet not truly silly. You can call me sensitive, but so I am.

Looking back, am I always the sort of person who catches the last train? The person who is unaware of the beauty of her destination, keeps denying her opportunities, but still manages to do the good for herself in the end? In that case, you will call me Miss Lucky. However, this whole success thing built on being lucky is precarious. Don't you think? Having caught the last trains does not mean I will always be able to catch the last train? Shall I ingratiate myself to my mood or my reason? Which should be driving my decisions? If I think it's reasonable for me to do thing A, but it's emotionally unsatisfying for me to do thing A for the moment, shall I do thing A or not? You tell me.

Whichever I choose, will it then become my habit, or my way of doing things? Does that make me predictable in other people's views? Even if I don't choose now, does it make me someone of an illusive personality? An odd ball? I am already odd enough. (Laura in The Blind Assasin reminds me of me. )

By the way, I am still damn serious to Sergio. He starts to show signs of frustration. (It could be that I showed my frustration towards him first.) But why? Can't I just be friendly with people? Why must I be damn serious? You know what? I don't think I can change myself now. I wanted to be humorous, I tried, but I failed every now and then.

Last night, I dreamed of Hao Heng and Liu Jicheng, why them again? I start to think that the boys of my class in Huayi are the only boys I feel comfortable being with. I never again feel comfortable with any other boys. Not the ones in Singapore, not the ones here. Not the same at least.

I want to talk to Professor Voskeritchian. I have questions for her. I have questions for my philosophy professor.

I love to ask myself: Why am I doing what I am doing?

More often than not, I need an answer in order to move on.

The Blind Assassin

2006-07-04T07:52:00.000-07:00

I finished reading another summer book. The Blind Assassin.

I strongly recommend The Blackbird House to Lei. I still haven't bought her any gift for her birthday. Maybe I shall give her a book. But will she like a book? But it's a good book. Hmmm, I shall make up my mind faster.

Last Day of June

2006-06-30T12:20:00.000-07:00

Many events are going on in Boston because July 4th is coming. A big day in the U.S. Jay and Amy invited me to go Connectcuit with them, to a casino. I don't think so. But we will go for the concert and watch the fireworks together at Boston Esplanade on the eve of July 4th.

Gotta do some shopping: sandals, bed, table, chair. I am going to move to my apartment in September. I am excited to decorate it myself.

One Step Closer to My Dream

Yesterday

2006-06-29T19:40:00.001-07:00

Students studying for Summer Term 1 have left for home. I don't have many customers.

After Keoki left last night, I thought a lot about him and about Mike before I could sleep. It's amazing how vividly I still recall some things between Mike and me. I could still feel the pent-up anxiety locked in me at the time our friendship got complicated. We never exchanged many words, but most that were exchanged got remained somehow, in his memories, I believe, and mine.

Only I am recalling some scenes now. He definitely never cares. I always say I don't know what was happening between us. But for sure, there was confusion, frustration, and mutual determination to give up on each other. I think he allows nobody to go near him. Exactly, I am like that too.

Did I try to hurt him? Was it me behind his shabbiness in the last few days of school? Did it matter to me whether I knew what he was really thinking about? Did it matter to him? Did I deprive him of the chance to tell me what he was thinking about? Lei asked me to think about whether Mike treats every other girl the same he treats me. Well, no every other girl. Maybe there are, but I never see, I don't know.

Anyway, thinking about him makes my stomach sour, my vision hazy, and my head dizzy. Maybe I like feeling this way because I am still thinking aobut him. It's so stupid and unreasonable, why do I want to think about someone who does not care to think about me?

Oh yah, Keoki came at a quarter to twelve last night. His second arrival in my apartment for the same night. I bet he carried that bottle of Bacardi he had intended to drink with me. He said he wanted me to keep his blanket and glass. I was surprised: didn't he have just a little more room for his glass in his suitcase? When he finally arrived at the door, he told me he changed his mind. Only the glass, no blanket. He stayed briefly, the time that I persuaded him to just leave the glass in our kitchen instead of our living room. Later when I went to bed, I realized something funny. He wanted a drink with me. He might have even planned to stay overnight. But I did not realize that earlier and I did not respond as what he might have thought about. Keoki's a super sensitive and shy guy in a similar way as me although both of us try hard to hide. If he sees this, he will probably be angry at me because either I said the dangerous truth which he does not like to know, or I am being too presumptuous.

No matter how much I think about Mike, at some time I still have to stop. I just don't know when. Maybe after this. After tonight.

Christy and Keoki left their stuff with me.
Christy and Flora travelled back to Hong Kong.
Summer Term 1 ended.
Sergio said he would be back from Chile yesterday, but he's not back today.
I helped an unknown Chinese graduate do a survey, a communication studies student.
Talked with Tony Tao Junjie today. He told me he is in Wuhan right now. He studies Information System. He opened an Internet Cafe with two of his friends. He talked in a self-effacing manner.

Scribbling

2006-06-28T09:45:00.000-07:00

After I translated his dream from Chinese to English, I have heard nothing from him again. You can treat silence as a sign of loss of interest. In that case, something that I did was not appreciated. You can also treat silence as a complication. Sometimes people have so much going on in their minds that there's nothing that they can really talk to you about. Talking about this reluctance to share one's feelings and thoughts with others, I notice many novelists love to portray such a state of the mind. I am wondering, could this inability to speak one's heart and soul be a kind of psychological disorder? This bothers me because I am often taciturn.

All of a sudden, I want to have the magic power to cast dreams on people. I would make them see both beautiful and ugly things, just to make them open their minds, their hearts, and they eyes.

Getting married, having childrean.
Having boyfriends, making love.
Relationship, kinship, friendship.
All so good.

I don't, obviously, like all my customers. One professor always treats me as if I am stupid, ludicrous or something. The way he acts shows how privileged he thinks of himself and how low he thinks of me. In my head, I've always imagined him as an economy professor, just another professor in the School of Management who knows how the money in the world flows. Every time he sees me, he does not see the person in me. He only sees my value. You know? A foreigner doing a low-paid job in his country, fitting into the economic system his fellow smart heads have established. Now do you realize I'm really nasty and sarcastic?

I you don't like a place, the thought that you will be stucked there for years does hurt you. Vulnerable, depressed, and hopeless. Marrying someone not of your choice is more than frustrating. In fact, marrying someone gives me the same fear.

By the way, I stopped talking to a male employee in my work place after he grabbed my hand out of the blue the other day. He shouldn't have done that. It's harrassment. Now, he does not talk to me any more, maybe in fear of offending me again. Clever, if he does it again, I will let my manager know and will be really serious about it.

Talking about that, I have to admit that I am more comfortable with girls than boys. But that doesn't mean I am a lesbian. The only kind of female that I don't get along with is grannies. Old, nagging kind of women. In fact, any woman who nags drives me crazy.

I read Xiaoyue and Minyi's MSN spaces, peeping through their words into their lives. Yah, I am kinda dreamy compared to them. I remain happy so.

He Dreamed of Me

2006-06-26T14:08:00.000-07:00

I received an Email today from Yading, a long time friend. He wrote there he dreamed of me and this was the story. My translation.

I dreamed of you.

The story will start today. I meet you in a class. The kind of class that requires you to live on campus. So both of us live together in a building of about twelve or thirteen floors. In front of our building is a pond where lush bottle gourds grow. Our school does not fulfil the promises they make about our living conditions and teaching facilities. Thus many students grumble. They gather together voluntarily and decide not to pay the fees for the second half of their semseter. However, this only makes things worse. The school hire a group of gangsters to watch over us. And that is what triggers us to run away from this place. The gangsters chase after us all the way. I'm shot from behind. My blood is everywhere. We spot a truck underneath a bridge. Both of us jump onto the truck. The driver of the truck is taken aback by the gruesome scene of my blood. He leaves the truck, and you jump onto the driving seat.

Where do you think we shall go?
Up to you. Elliot or..?
Elliot is not a name for a place.

I laugh at you hysterically. My shoulders hurt a lot. We pass a little cake shop.

Do you wanna anything to eat?
Sounds good. Let's go.

Unexpectedly, no one's selling any cakes in the shop. Instead, there is a wedding ceremony going on. We drive farther until we see a gulf.

After this place, we will be in Turkey.

Cows chewing on the grass quietly.

Well, why don't we go to my friend in Argentina? (By the way, Turkey and Argentina are far apart.) He is the chief of his village.

Then we pass the Canal of Panama. We can see lines of mountains.

We may get lucky if we take the right lane.
No, but if the tides rise, we will be drowned.

We stop at a small village. It has very modern tracks. I find a friend among a group of beggers. He says he makes about 1000 dollars by working in a mine every day. I ask him to take me there too. He says although 1000 dollars are a lot, if you choose to have a lodging, the rent for a single day is about 950 dollars. Nah, I don't care. We rent a house.

You and I live in that house together. We have a little window in our room. A little window with light blue fiber curtains. I work in the mine in the day. You and I have lovely chats in the night. One day, I buy a Qin for you. You learn slowly how to play it. You play it for yourself at times. Another day, the mine where I work collapses. I remember running to the exit like mad with my fellow workers. After this incident, my boss changes his mind. He will give me 5000 dollars per month without charging me for the house. I change my mind too. I don't want to work there any more. My boss then only gives me 2000 dollars in total.

We use the money to open a school for the orphens. One day I want to visit my friend and we sell the school to the local government. The government gives us a car as the compensation. We drive to my friend's place, which has become very dilapidated and lifeless. The elevator is broken, so we have to climb up the stairs. When we finally reach his house, we see a piece of paper cut in the shape of a circle on his door. His neighbor tells us that he became unemployed six months ago and his family have fled this place. We push open the door anyway and sit on his dusty carpet.

Just at this moment, someone nice-looking but with a scowl on his face asks me to go out for a while. I follow him out just in time to notice he is the person who opens the school that I escaped with you earlier on. Some guys take me away. When I turn my head and see you, you change completely. Your hair is golden and you seem to have grown taller suddenly. Some people in white grab you hard. They seem to want to take something from your pocket. You are screaming for help. And I tell you not to be scared because the night will pass soon and I need to get up soon. I will try to rescue you when I am in a dream again tomorrow. And I wake up.

HAHAHA

2006-06-25T13:16:00.000-07:00

Oh my God, what a waste of emotions and reasons!!
I found my pencil. Jay took it. It's in his pencilbag.
Nah~

My Pencil

2006-06-25T11:42:00.000-07:00

Do you have a very personal object that you keep for a long time? Like a necklace, a bookmark, or a scarf? I have a mechanical pencil, which I bought when I was in Secondary Three. I realize that I have really lost it this afternoon. That drove me crazy.

At first, I was searching every corner of the apartment, wishing I could remember something somehow and find the pencil. When I finished going around the house for one time, I began to feel a little sad. In addition to that, I began to talk to myself as if talking to my pencil. Sweet words and threatening words, neither had worked. That was when I started to throw a tantrum. My face must have all wrinkled up, ugly-looking, and scary, but nowhere was my pencil to be seen. I used up almost all of my energy to search the house again until I collapsed in my couch finally and became languorous.

You may have felt the same as me. When you don't have any physical strength, even when you feel terrible, your brain still function and reason. I was regretful that I did not take good care of my pencil because I did not remember where I put it after I used it to write some French last Friday. Then I began to blame myself for never taking care of any of my belongings seriously. I have lost numerous hairbands per se. I thought I could use other pencils to do my vocabulary this afternoon. But when I picked them up, they looked so odd in every way that I could not use them at all. I assured myself again and again that only my old pencil pal could give me a kind of confidence when I wrote. I began to, although I had done before too, appreciate the texture of my pencil. It always gave me the best hold, the best flow, the best quality. Yet once it was gone, all were gone! My pencil has been with me for years. We have travelled together from China to Singapore, to Malaysia, to Hong Kong, to Korea, and to America. We have been through my examinations, my blue days, and my lovely happy times. We share memories. Yet it left me without a note, so silently and slyly, leaving no clues, no traces. Was it my fault then?

Fine! Since I lost it, I will learn to use other pencils. To think even more positively, I shall not depend my confidence on a stupid little pencil. When I write, write with the confidence within. I shall focus on what I am writing instead of what I use to write. Afterall, what's going to count more? My pencil? Or my knowledge, my learning? Why would I want to lament over the loss of a pencil? Why do I grow emotional with a pencil that I can possibly lose forever?

But the above thoughts no longer sooth and please me as similar thoughts before have soothed and pleased me. What a fanatic of reasons, what a rational extremist would say and think that way? I am a human being, I have feelings and emotions, I can't just live by my reasons!

Yet still, I have to face certain facts. I lost it. I miss it. I know I can lose other things as well in future. I know I always don't have a lot of belongings that will stay with me for very long. For instance, my bed. I have changed so many beds and rooms in the past nine years. From 1997 onwards, I have been nomadic. If I can't live with the loss of a pencil, how can I live with my past experiences? Since I have lived with my past experiences of moving, changing, and being homeless, why can't I live with losing my favorite pencil?

This really feels like disecting human emotions. How oddly looking and cruel! If today I can really face the fact that I lost my pencil, I may develop a good attitude towards others things in life as well. Maybe I won't even be easily depressed whenever I think about my being nomadic. But at the moment, I have thought so much about a single emotion that my emotion has evaporated. I don't feel anything for my pencil now. I am again, so rational. So, I, am rational?

Am I happy for being rational about losing my pencil? No. But I don't really want a miracle. That is to find my pencil. But I am not happy. I am not happy no matter I have my pencil back or not. This is driving me crazy. Since it's driving me crazy, why can't I just drop the subject?

Any pencil is fine. Any bed is fine. Anything is fine. You just be adaptable and anything everything is fine! What the hell is that? The Americans complain about this and that, even winter being cold is not acceptable. And I am Chinese, I am fine with geting a low-paid job of $7.55 per hour. I am fine with living in the living room for $350 per month. I am fine with everything and anything and I don't complain. Why don't I complain? Why must I be fine with using any pencil but not that particular one? Why must I be fine with sleeping on different beds every now and then? Why can't I have my own apartment and my own bed and my own belongings and possessions? Why can't I?

Still, any pencil IS fine. It's more important that I use the pencil to write well. Any bed is fine, so long as I use the bed to sleep well. I don't have to complain too much because I am not a millionaire. Being not rich is not being easily humiliated. Being not rich is being stripped of many choices, meaning, just the bare minimum. Still, I can be positive. I know if I can sleep well on this bed, I can sleep well on any bed. If I can learn a lesson from losing my beloved pencil, I can learn to 1. be more careful in the future (this is very unlikely) 2. overcome some emotions in order to grow stronger, maturer, and happier.

Now, that sounds not bad. I will drop the subject now.

Lucky

2006-06-23T16:06:00.000-07:00

Mrs. Thompson introduced me to Professor Beinstein today. She said I was the girl who came to Krasker for a movie everyday. Nice!

Relief

2006-06-21T09:05:00.000-07:00

BU has reissued me my scholarship for the next academic year. I'm so glad. Also, yesterday I applied for an overload waiver. I checked my student account online today. It's been updated. I can overload my class schedule next semester up to 20 credits. Hooray!

Mrs. Thompson from Krasker finally talked to me. I didn't have the gut to talk to her first. Yah, I am the one student who goes to Krasker almost everyday to watch a movie these days. She must have known my face by heart. Mrs. Thompson said she introduced Professor Beinstein to Professor Levine and both of them were good people. I suddenly felt it was very silly of me to think bad of Professor Levine. By the way, I have watched Professor Beinstein's movie before. He also gave a speech after the previewing. It's a Danish movie dubbed Turn Right at the Yellow Dog. A very interesting story.

Jay's girlfriend Amy has her contract ended this August. I'm going to take a look at her apartment. Slow me - I am still looking for an apartment after August. All of my friends are all set by the time now.

Sergio Colvin left for Chile to fix his visa problem. He said he would bring each of his roommates a gift. I have specified what I want in a short letter, which I put under his door before I left for work this morning. We took a few pictures last night. Sergio asked for it. Wait for me to upload the pictures.

What shall I watch today?

COM

2006-06-20T09:14:00.000-07:00

COM still gives me the inexplicable jitters.

Whenever I walk into the COM building.

Whenever I am with a group of COM students.

Worried

2006-06-16T08:52:00.000-07:00

Now I think yesterday is fine. In fact, it wasn't. I arrived at work seeing Peggy the nagging old lady there. Every time she's there, she will nag about what I shall do to make the store look nicer. The things that she mentions are trivial. Moreover, those are not what Yohan the Indian guy who now is back in India told me to do. Peggy just made me look so bad in front of Roger our boss. I hate her.

In the afternoon I checked my student account and discovered that my school fees for next semester along is about 21,000 USD. They did not award me my scholarship and charged me for the extra credits that I will take. I was so mad and worried that I almost could not sleep.

This morning, I checked my emails, which included ones that sent by the Financial Aid Office. Shoo, they are still processing thost scholarships and I just have to wait before the end of this month to see it show up in my student account. Okay, that at least does not mean I don't have any scholarship anymore. Calm down.

Without scholarship, that is almost like a lightening to my head. A punch on my stomach. A speare to my heart. : (

So, let's wait and see first.

Dead End

2006-06-11T10:40:00.000-07:00

He said the history of a person is important. I said not at all. We argued. Neither was convinced of the other. I wonder if I have been wrong all the while. That's a horrible idea to me. So am I the one with no stable morality? What's right? And what's wrong?

Oh Boston

2006-06-05T20:01:00.000-07:00

Oh Boston, I need to fall in love with you because I am with you for the rest of my summer. How am I supposed to fall in love by instructing myself to fall in love? This feels so weird.

Melissa and Huilian are travelling to China. Without me!!

I almost forgot, Sergio Coolvin told me today was the day he broke up with his girlfriend. He couldn't forgive her for what she had done. He is a man who prizes justice, but seemingly without mercy. Oh, what can I say? We had a hearty talk, basically he was talking and I was listening. He said in a relationship, a guy's job is to provide protection and make sure that his girlfriend feel safe. He wanted to continue his poetic parallelism, but his poor English stopped him from doing so. He also talked briefly about his relationship with his parents, the topic of which I did not question a lot because I did not know what to ask or to say. We got started when he started chuckling, louder and louder until I had to turn my head to him and asked him what he was laughing at. When I turned, well, he burst into hysterical laughters. "You are so serious!" Some irony, some jeer, some unreasonableness. Jay walked by and said in Chinese that girls were supposed to be cute when they were serious. I don't think Sergio could have guessed what Jay had said. Anyway, Sergio was not embarrassed by what he was doing to me. I really did not think about anything at all when he saught to talk to me about himself. At one point, I did want him to stop because I did not need to know everything. I don't know, I just felt weird. We also mentioned stuff like our future spouses would have the qualities that our parents don't have, and they don't have the bad aspects that we don't like about our parents. I remember Sergio started to tell me his ideal principles in a relationship that he wants to have. The only question I had then was: Sergio, why are you telling me all these? He was talking and talking so I had no chance to ask him that question. Because I wanted him to stop talking, I showed less interest in the subject. And you know what? Soon after he changed the topic, or at least, the orientation. He started to predict that one day I was going to have a boyfriend and then I would understand what he meant by the things he said. I bet.

Now here is something private, I don't expect people to understand. My favorite character in The Lord of the Rings is Aragon. Sergio just looks like Aragon, with that rough, hairy, and heroic looking. When serious, a brave, serious, and responsible man; when not, fun-seeking, energetic, and exciting. I think someone like him will have a girl like Erwin. When Sergio told me that he thought being smart was more important than being pretty, when he told me that he liked girls with "the brain" rather than "the body," I was dumbfound, basically astonished and wordless. Was he, I mean, was he drunk?

He prizes simplicity and justice; we have talked about those two subjects for a long time. We have also since we first met, argued about the nature of competition and aggressiveness. It's not that I don't agree with his opinions; it's just that I like to argue with every statement he puts forward. I thought that was fun. He made me read his little entry in his class conference. He wrote a piece about his back pain, "the generic problem" inheritated from his father. After I finished reading, he asked me if I liked to read such stuff. I was playing dumb and asked him, "What?" He sighed. Oh, what was indeed in my head? Why couldn't I just face the fact that he was, actively making an effort in getting closer to, me?

See, I really wish I could get involved in a relationship this summer. I am free. I am, I should be ready. I, though never made any birthday wishes upon blowing my birthday candles, still wish something could happen to me. I am just extremely afraid of being hurt and being heartbroken and being disqualified in the relationship game. I am afraid that I will be a very bad girlfriend. I, basically don't believe in myself. I still don't think I look attractive. I still, think I am the kind of girl whom guys don't mind having, either do they mind losing. You know? Just the ordinary ordinary.

See? I am afraid to see Sergio in my apartment. I took a long walk to a park at St. Mary's St and played the swing there for almost one hour, watching little kids and their fathers playing with sand. I am at George Sherman Union now, a few miles from home. I walked here by myself. I am going to walk further to Barns and Nobles and buy something before I head back along the Charles River. Somehow I wish, he sees, some of my paragraphs. But I will never ask him to, because I will be embarrassed, my face will go red, and I . . . . He said simplicity, and he asked me why I wanted to think in such complicated terms, I should have told him that I could not help it. Here, now, really, not.

Dear Marmee

2006-05-31T17:17:00.000-07:00

Remember I told you once you know something, you can't pretend that you don't know it? Dear Mom, I wish I could give you a more appropriate simile because this one doesn't sound quite right: I am transforming from an ugly little caterpillar to a gorgerous butterfly!

The changes are inevitable. They are taking place inside me even when I am dreaming. Recently my dreams have been too colorful for my limited vocabulary to express. I said I won't use many adjectives but verbs in my future writing. That just makes it even harder to write down those dreams.

Look at my feet: I was playing the swing, watching people walking and running by Charles River.

Couples getting married behind the flowers: I tiptoed behind the lovely flowers.

Isn't this incredible? I find my home in Boston. Hahaha.

When My Problems Arise

2006-05-27T15:20:00.000-07:00

When my problems arise, I am the most miserable person in the world. Even the fact that I am saying so makes me the most miserable person in the world. I told my parents that my mood goes up and down easily and drastically. They won't believe me.

I Love Every Moment Now

2006-05-26T09:14:00.000-07:00

I am just about to write a long piece, all well-thought, all prepared and ready, totally eager to start, when I see Mike walking by. I haven't seen him for a while. He hasn't changed much: the same black polo-shirt and a black shirt. Only his hairstyle is different: now parted in the middle. I think he looks cool now. Not exactly cold, but composed and confident. I am confident too, thanks to Serjio.

Yesterday after work, I didn't go back straight away. I went to the BU beach and had my sandwich on the lawn. Usually I tell people that I dislike summer because it's so hot. But I sometimes enjoy the slow pace of summer afternoons, and the cool breeze of summer evenings exceptionally. When I am conscious of my surroundings, not exactly of myself, I often feel I grasp my life better. You know, when you are not busy, you seem to live a high-quality life, that sort of feelings.

So, serjio. Serjio is from Chile. He speaks Spanish. ("The worst Spanish in the world" according to him.) He is 26. He has studied law for four years, changed his major to philosophy and continued philosophy for another three years. He has been in the navy for two years. Because he disliked the unfair nature of competition in the navy, although he was the second best there, he quitted that path. He came to America not long ago to study English in Boston University. He wants to study Business and Management in the School of Management in BU. He loves sports, especially squash, snow-boarding, and hiking. He told me that he used to camp in the mountains in southern Chily with his friends, which I think is so wonderful and enviable.

At first, I did find his life experiences rich and admired the way he has dealt with his life. However, Serjio's English is very bad. He has a very limited vocabulary, yet he always wants to tell me very complicated things. I did find listening to him was a pain. However, I am sympathetic to him because I was like him once. Whenever he came to me and wanted to talk, I gave him the chance. (I am not taking any classes at the moment. This makes me free to associate with many kinds of people. I love this wondering around kind of life for my summer. This is exactly what I want for this summer.)

Serjio is Catholic. He told me a lot of stuff about the conflicts between communists and captalists in Chile. Since he studied law and philosophy, our topics always landed themselves in these two areas. Sometimes I would start talking about my life, or my philosophy, and we never ended up with those girlish personal talks but broad and intellectually stimulating concepts and arguments.

In fact, our first argument, an ongoing argument is the nature of competition. He abhors it while I praise the idea of competing. I know what he means by businessmen coorporating to produce better profits and to serve their customers better. However, I am this mean girl who never easily buys other people's arguments. I challenged his idea in many ways, pushing his limits and forcing him to explain using his bad English. I would correct him at times, but he never remembered. For example, he keeps making the same mistake: "they don't do nothing."

What Serjio did make me feel better because of the validity of his argument was that he said that I didn't have to feel bad about myself for failing those interviews. He never mentioned that I did not have to care about those interviews, but he convinced me exactly so. I said I hated myself for being so passive, and he said there was no problem of being passive. He was against the American way of being aggressive in order to win. He was against the American way of waving those flags of open-minded ness and tolerance in order to make what doesn't work right work. Things like single-sex marriage, lesbians and gays, corruption, divorce, etc. Serjio hates injustice in the world. He was fumbling for words that could express his anger, but he often ended up saying "a piece of fucking shit."

Serjio told me the most important thing in his life is family. I understood Serjio at that moment like how I understood Chang Loong and those family-loving guys I have met in the past. Such guys are nice, very nice. I can't be sarcastic now.

One other thing that I learned from our conversation is that Serjio told me the truth about what he thinks as the most important thing. Unlike those guys who try to impress you the first time they meet you, Serjio is someone who takes it slowly, and lightly. I wouldn't say he has achieved a lot, I wouldn't say he is very smart, or a prodigy, or someone who oughts to make a difference in the world, or in Chily now. But his life is interesting and solid. He is so true to himself. He knows what he wants and who he is, unlike me because I often can't decide for myself if I should change or not.

Apparently, he admits the world is complicated even though at first he insists life and happiness are both simple and easy to achieve. However, although he thinks the world is complicated, he encourages me to stick to who I am. He said it was his personal opinion, but it is valid to think his way: if I am whatever, I don't have to tell people I am whatever.

I argued with him fiercely that in America, you have to tell people you are whatever, you have to be aggressive in order to survive. But he still shaked his head after all I had to say. He nodded once. But he became absorbed in his thoughts afterwards. I think it's a tough topic.

But anyway, he made me feel better about myself. I just wanna say, after talking with him, I felt like I should be confident again. I should always be confident no matter how little I realize I know and how insignificant I can be sometimes. I understand that I should be confident simply, only, and just because that I am a good person. If I am a good person, why shouldn't I be confident of myself after all? I know some people are like this and that, they know more than me, they are richer, they are prettier, they are more privileged, they are more talented, they are faster, they are more attractive, they are luckier, they are funnier, they are what they are, but I am a good person, the end!

Haha, one thing good about living with people who are older than you and who come from different parts of the world is that they make you open up your minds and open your eyes. I know what Serjio hates about some politicians using the word "open-minded" and "tolerance" to achieve their political goals. But I believe what he knows what is intrinsically attached to the two words is very good.

We played the balls that Zhipeng gave me. We made jokes. He squeezed my cheeks with those balls. I laughed at him because he did not kick the balls into the box. We played hitting the person with balls. He is just like my elder brother. How fun.

Wishing for Wishes

2006-05-24T09:11:00.000-07:00

I wish a fairy comes to me after everybody leaves the house. I wish she gives me three wishes and I can tell her the wildest. most desperate and private things that I want. Am I sick? Or am I really melanchonic?

My past goes away like a bad dream. . . .
I have no character. . . .
I am not guided, not purposeful, not strong-minded. . . .
Sometimes I just see myself as a piece of shit.

Sarah, radiant smile, she drives a big car, always chic and pretty.
Helen, care-free, she has her character, rich, smiling, caring, friendly, etc.
I am sulky, ugly, melanchonic, closed-minded, immature, sarcastic, even venemous.

Let it all out, girl.

Walk Away Walk Afar

2006-05-23T09:55:00.000-07:00

Keoki sounded as cold as iron. He must have first found out I am a cold person before he turns to me, as cold as iron. And since I have always been incredibly like that for many years, I remain so now.

Now, this: If I were born faulty, this would be exactly what was wrong with me. If I say I am a person as such (in fact, I don't have to say it at all), he'd better run away before he gets hurt. I'm such and such and such an odd ball, really not made for most boys. Ironically, I am both laughing and pitying at myself.

Breadwinners

2006-05-18T07:58:00.000-07:00

After a week of hitting on various job applications, I have finally met my employer Riva today. She explains to me the routines of Breadwinners, briefly but with abundance of information. In fact, I am flustered at the end of our meeting because I doubt my readiness to take over the station after tomorrow's traing. My goodness - we are talking about a whole store here. A whole store with me alone, all summer. But think it again, if I can do that, it'll mean I am really something.

I am going for the job affair this afternoon. I just wanna get a hang of talking to real white collar bourgeoisie. I can be really bad at that, but I am going to give myself a try anyway. After all, it is time to shake off my nervousness and get some real business down now.

Smile and be confident.

Bad Telephone Skills

2006-05-16T13:16:00.000-07:00

I called Rita. She wants me to work at Breadwinners this summer. She said that I can work at Starbucks for summer term 2 as well. I was so quiet and shy in the phone that she had to initiate questions to break the silence. Damn!

The pay is $7.55 per hour. I think I will start my summer with this job at the cashier first. 12 hours per week. Sounds alright.

Thursday 1PM. The paperworks with Rita.

Persistence

2006-05-15T18:19:00.000-07:00

I just sent out the fourth job application email this summer. So far I have received no positive replies. It's sometimes raining, sometimes drizzling, sometimes pouring outside. My heart is somewhat dampened, especially at night time.

The first one is about the mail/copy room assistant. It is still pending because the employer says he has many students at hand now and will contact me later if he needs me. The second one is about the facility supervisor at Boston University Fitness and Recreation Center. I have received no reply so far. The third one is about the clinical data assistant at Boston University Bio-medical center. It is pending too because the employer is still waiting for more students to apply, among who he wants to find someone who will work long-term with him. The fourth one is about the cashier at Breadwinner in School of Management. It's on its way. Unpredictable.

I feel more at ease writing job application emails now. I wrote some bad ones before, ones that only specifies that I want this or that particular job without further references to what kind of a person I am or what specific objectives I have in mind for the job. I also attach a resume with each of my email. I realize that resumes make my applications look far more formal and serious. My confidence level also arises as a result of that.

Honestly, I can't be frustrated about applying for a summer job. Everybody has to go through all the previous steps such as emailing, calling, interviewing, doing necessary paperwork before she or he actually gets a job and starts working.

Even though I am spending money each day on food, leisure, and all sorts of things each day, I am patient with my job applications. I know some day later, I will be able to secure a job. As for now, just keep trying and reflect on ways that I can improve.

I helped Christy move her stuff to her dorm in Bay State road tonight. We ran into Julia, Danielle, Eileen, Julie, Cherry, Helen, Alex, Jason, Jane, and Keoki. Many people are moving in their dorms for summer school today although it is drizzling. It is the most lively day in BU after school closes on May 10th. I am happy to see so many students running up and down the streets because in that way I don't feel lonely.

Christy treats me at Ginza, a Japanese restaurant for dinner. It costs her $45. I will treat her next time. Christy and I usually speak English to each other. However, after we start eating, we automatically switch to madarin. She tells me the stories of her learning to swim and some of the funny stories of her aunts and uncles in their childhood. A very relaxed conversation, purposeless, purely relieving, and soothing, and delightful late afternoon indeed.

Eileen's parents are helpful. They help Christy with her heavy trunk, the one which none of us is capable of carrying it upstairs. They also help Julia and Julie later on because they have a car. Kind-hearted Bostonians, not exactly easy to find in Boston.

I will prepare some more resumes and practice my interview skills tomorrow. I will go to the International Students and Scholars Office to change my address and ask them what I need to do before I can go Panama. I will visit the Careers Service Office too because I will need some revision for my first draft resumes. Maybe I can ask for Professor Levine's help too since he won't mind helping me, at all.

I know the summer goes kinda of slowly these days. I am not doing anything much except a little reading and cooking, and applying for jobs. I hope things will fall into places soon: a job, maybe two; a regular get-together session with my friends (who happen to live on the same floor on 159 Bay State Road) and watching movies and cooking dishes together; a quality reading period each day; some fun times with my growing network of male friends (Keoki, Donovan who just asked for my number today, etc.)

It's not a very exciting day, but eventful and happening enough to keep my mind occupied and satisfied for now. : )

Doing What?

2006-05-12T23:03:00.000-07:00

Keoki called at ten thirty or so. He said we could have a drink tonight. I went to his apartment. He bought drinks for me. We watched a movie together and drank together. I did not drink much. I stopped when I felt my face was glowing. Keoki had one bottle. We talked little, just watching the movie and laughing. The movie is called The 40 Year Old Virgin.

So what am I doing in a guy's apartment? Drinking. Anybody else? No, just two of us. What did he say? Nothing. He asked me if I would like to go for a free dancing lesson with him next Tuesday. I said yes. Simply yes. Without feeling anything at all. To the old me, it sounds so unbelievable. To the present me, nothing. I just drink and dance, with a guy, who drinks and dances too.

Life is Unpredictable

2006-05-12T09:10:00.000-07:00

Life goes on despite joys, sorrows, complaints, vows, and all those thoughts that have been on your mind for longer than imagnination. I experienced my weak power in taking control of what's coming next frequently this and last week. It seems that at every corner of every turn lurches an opportunity. If it grabs you, or you grab it, things will change dramatically.

There are so many things I wish to say about my last week, so many yet so complicated to start with one. Actually I only want to talk about Mike now - the boy who once again "destroys" me.

I called Mike last night because he gave me a heartattack. He translated each one of my words from Chinese to English. Considering his level of Chinese, considering the complxity of those words, I am truly impressed and surprised by what he did. I was unhappy for a while because he did not recognize me when I called. He had obviously deleted my number from his cell phone. He has no intention to call me or meet me up this summer though both of us will be here and both of us know very well. I was unhappy with myself because Mike asked me to repeat what I said twice. I did not hear him clearly either. We still have the communication barrier. The call lasted for less than a minute. When it was time to hang up, I posed, so did he. I finally pressed "end call," but the silence before everything ended destroyed me. What the hell is going on between us? None of us wants to say anything to make things clear. He is giving up, so am I. He does not fully give up, neither do I.

Mike has been my dummy whenever I read about the western culture, whenever I read about the European history, whenever I read about fashion magazine, and fiction, and anything now. It is funny how I can imagine him in different contexts and he is still Mike. To tell the truth, I had insomnia before my final exams only just solely because of him. We did not say much, but I was thinking about him, unreasonably madly. Why? Because we did not talk much! Why didn't we talk much? Because both of us were aware of our differences, and we were reserved.

Maybe it is just me, and just my assuming him doing this and that. But even in that case, he is partially responsible.

I have a decision too. Since he deleted my number, so will I delete his number. I don't think I want to meet him in the next two years. But at then end of two years, I wish I can see him again, just before he graduates. This is so ridiculous. This is like what happened in My Sassy Girl. How stupid! How melodramatic. Haiz.

Every time after he did something to me, I could not sleep because I thought it over again and again. Good, I am still a coward and so he is, he admitted once he was a coward, I would not bother him any more either. He has a kind of mental disorder, maybe I have too. But I don't want to have the same kind of mental disorder as he does because that means he has infected me with his.

Mike went to work on Monday. I remember last Wednesday I was shouting to my friend that I only worked on Mondays and Wednesdays, and Mike was standing near me and once I finished that sentence he turned away. He probably hated me for saying so. And on Monday, I did not show up at work because Penny was leaving on Tuesday and we wanted to spend the night together. We went to the cafeteria, Mike was there. He did not even look at me when Penny was talking to him. Mike did not even look at me! It was the same last Friday when Mike chased after seven of us who were leaving for Noodle Street to celebrate my birthday there. I turned to him and he looked away. But he was still following us. He just would not look at me or ask me anything. And when I finally saw him, he was staring at me behind the glass door. STARING! His face was bewildered. He was motionless. He was exactly disturbing me like mad.

Either this boy really had a crush on me and did not know what to do and was disappointed that I did not react to his activeness. Or I am thinking too much. The problem is, I don't think too much because of no reason! What if at the end of these two years I will still be the same? Why can't we just be friends now? I don't even feel right that we are friends now. If we are friends, why do I feel awkward to call him and have lunch or dinner together? Oddest thing ever!

Sometimes I think of Chang Loong and think Chang Loong has influenced me so much. I am a bit like Chang Loong now because I am as passive as he is. At the same time, I am influenced by Mike. Damn it.

What shall I do with Mike and him and his everything? I don't feel right to put him aside ever after. I mean, he is knowledgeable and we could have quality conversations with each other. Next time I see him, I will try to talk to him like normal. I mean, there is nothing abnormal. Don't think too much, Isabel!! Haha, ok, I am cheerful again.

Kuma has a wife who is from Shanghai. We talked a little bit just now. It feels good to speak with someone in the apartment. Summer has long long days and short short nights.

Mike! You . . . .

2006-05-11T16:43:00.000-07:00

From:
Mike Harrison
To:
Isabel Tian Cai
Subject:
isabel tian cai, cultured and refined, wrote a message in chinese about the chopsticks, handcrafted,
Message:
Baoshi Hua chopsticks
The Baoshi Hua chopsticks are a handicraft of a rural people, the Miao people. It has 400 year history. It is made from the center, using the “baqi” method of extracting bamboo stalk and applying mother-in-pearl inlay. It passes through a coarse millstone (cumo), ximo, as well as a zhangmo. Although it is poisonous, it is also tasty; it is hard and durable; it is able to endure high temperatures; and is able to withstand acidic alkalines. The clear-striped wen flower has an ancient fragrance and color, and grows to become very elegant.

Ok, now.

2006-05-09T17:27:00.000-07:00

Keoki bought champagne for my 21st birthday. He also brought his alcohol with him. 6 packs. We finished one bottle of champagne. He also finished another bottle of wine. He was deadly drunk. His motion was so slow. I was drunk too. I felt dizzy. I couldn't concentrate. I am still drunk now. (11:01PM)

8:30 Started with champagne.
9:25 My face is damn red. But I'm still conscious.
10:30 I am dizzy. I went to the toilet twice. I am drunk. But I am still writing stuff down.
I don't know what I am doing now. We finished the bottle.

Bday Celebration 5/5

2006-05-06T16:40:00.000-07:00

When they sang Happy Birthday, everybody else in George Sherman Union followed. The bell rang. It was 8:30PM. I was the center of attention. Two cakes. Seven people. I was feeling terrible inside.

5AM

2006-05-04T10:44:00.000-07:00

I was widely awake at 5AM today. I thought it was around 2AM, and I actually pulled the curtain to check what the strange light was outside my window. I realized it was sunlight afterwards. And then I looked at my clock. It said 5:18AM. Damn! I have insomnia.

"Are you not talking to me because I threw up at the counter on Monday?" Mike asked me.
"She hasn't talked much to me tonight either," Whitney said.
"I didn't know you threw up at the counter," I said.

Before we left, another little bit.
"????" Mike said.
"What?" I asked.
"????" Mike said again.
"I am sorry," I said. "Will you repeat?"
"Urm," Mike said. He tried to speak in Chinese.
"You speak too fast," I said. "Just tell me in English."
"Do you need me for anything?" He asked.
"NO!" I replied immediately, faster than I should be.
"No," Whitney said as she came from behind. "We are done."
I looked at Mike. He looked at me. I looked at Whitney. She looked at me. Whitney and I walked away.

Things like this got stuck in my head for long long time.

Julia and Eileen want to celebrate my birthday with me. We are going out for dinner this Friday. Those girls are so nice. I am so damn passive. I am in a very bad mood recently.

4/30

2006-05-02T21:55:00.000-07:00

Me, Mike, Dan, Denise, Kacie. Our Late Nite Crew.

A good morning.

I am still dizzy from last night's sleep. The way from my floor to the dining hall seems longer than usual.

"Thank you," I say to the lady who has just done swiping my card.

"Oh my God!" A boy's voice rises behind me. It's Mike.

We haven't seen each other for more than a week.

"Oh my God!" Mike exclaims again. I believe I give him a doubtful face and ask him why.

He refuses to answer my inquiry, so I greet him with something else. "What's up?"

Mike wants me to cover for him; I agree immediately; he looks surprised.

Mike tells me he has an exam tomorrow and a 15 page research paper due two days after tomorrow. Fair enough, I figure he has to start writing his paper after he finishes his first exam. He says it will be great if I can cover for him tonight. But I plan to finish my paper tonight. I cannot help him, sorry. Nonetheless, he invites me to have lunch with him.

"Where do you sit?" I ask Mike.
"You will see a table with my notes on them," Mike says. "Notes about English poetry."

I find his table easily. Messy, boyish, and Mike-ish. He comes with a plate of salad with onions and blue cheese, and a cup of hot vanilla milk tea. He is light as a cloud. We start talking with scratches of words.

Somehow our conversation grows fast. Soon, we open up many interesting topics.

From the poem Chimney Sweeper, to sorrows and joys in life, to farmers' lives in the 19th century, to the Agricultural Revolution, to individualism, to Mozart, Beethoven, Strauss, to Xinhua Road.

In this open-ended conversation, we happen to touch "sensitive" topics too. Mike starts twice with "Do you know why I said" and stops right there. Finally he beefs up his courage and asks me, "Do you know why I said I liked white girls more than Asians because you are disciplined?" "Why?" I follow. "Because I am an asshole!" Mike says, his tone raises so much.

Also, for the third time, he tells me he will be here for the summer.
For the third time too, I tell him I will be here for the summer.
However silence follows every time after we say that.

And soon I know, Mike comes to work tonight.

And soon I will be surprised to see him at work with me on Monday. Why does he come since he is so busy with his finals? Why does he come since he does not have a work shift on Monday?

(Mike left early on Monday because he was sick. He tried to tell me something about his stomach in Chinese but I did not understand him. He was feeling horrible because he had too much a drink on the previous night. Stupid Mike is ruining his body. For what? He never tells me, and I never ask. I sent him a text message after work on Monday: Hope you are fine. No reply. He doesn't want to be cared. He obviously thinks men never really love women as much as women love men because men do not truly get sorrowful for the deaths of their wives. I don't know where this urge to pity him comes from, but Mike looks so weak. A boy of his height should not look so weak. A boy of his age should not look so that weak. )

I Hate This Birthday More Than Anything

2006-04-29T18:45:00.000-07:00

I hate my birthday. I hate it more than anything in the world now. I don't know what it means to be an adult. I hate time.

I fear my birthday. I fear it more than anything in the world now. I fear to know what it means to be an adult. I fear time. It is tickling past so fast. So damn fast.

Salsa

2006-04-28T23:10:00.000-07:00

Kesha helped me to curl my hair.

And I was dancing with some random man at a dance studio. The dance is called salsa.

Karl is Right

2006-04-28T14:00:00.000-07:00

Why would the people from the acupuncture clinics want to be interviewed by me? I am not a newspaper reporter. I am not going to bring them any benefits by asking them to sit down for half an hour and answer my questions. Karl is so damn right.

Karl told me about the old man Kenneth who has worked in BU for 15 years. I conducted an interview with Ken right after school. It worked perfectly.

I am dizzy. What's the problem with me all along? Why am I so simple-minded, so naive, and so ignorant?

I hope my profile will work out nicely. Last night, I was reflecting on myself. And I got so mad at myself: I am not the type of person who ask people for help when I should. I am afraid to ask people because I am not close to them. Yet, I have never really made any effort getting close to people. And sometimes, it is not a matter of getting close to people. It is just about caring about them whenever situations like Jessica is sick come up. Ruting was elected as a student councilor in 2003. I could have too. But I was so bad at interacting with people with ease. There were opportunities that opened to me at that time, and at these times, and all the time, but I am never good at seizing them. I am too self-conscious, too selfish, too socially awkward. I never learn from people how to behave. I am so bad.

Haha, oh me.

2006-04-24T10:16:00.000-07:00

I was so depressed last night that I almost cried. I thought the film class was full. How foolish is that? I forgot to check the other sessions of the same course. Actually there are still some open seats.

Happy Again

2006-04-22T15:17:00.000-07:00

Hmm, love the word "resilience"!
Keoki bought Penny and me each a ticket to go tonight's concert.
He is going to perform the Hawaii dance with a group of girls and boys.
Looking forward to the concert.

Weariness

2006-04-22T10:22:00.000-07:00

These words never find their meanings in me because I never understand their differences: dreariness, dread, dismay, dismal, and apprehension. I don't know which one I now choose to describe the person half-awake typing. Maybe weary is a good one; it means both physical and mental fatigue.

Maybe it is just little food coma because I just had my lunch. I am dreary because of all the papers that I have to write before Wednesay. I was once excited by them. I thought I would write them easily. I still think I can. However, my mind is like a pot of butter now, stagnant, hard to stir.

You may laugh and say, "Stop putting on your melanchonic face again, young gal. You are as normal as you can be. Healthy as a stallion, intelligent as Athena, beautiful as a water lily." However, I almost close my eyes when you finish uttering your flowery little speech.

I never hate the word little before because I like the idea of being little and living little. Little does not imply unimportance. It is an attitude few men know how to adopt comfortably.

But, I am not interested in arguing with ya right now. I come to express my anxiety.

Choosing courses:

Next semester's courses are ready for us to pick online. I have chosen mine. Five of them. For my interest. And for the damn requirements the school imposes. Understanding Film is the one that I am most looking forward to. Writing 100 is next to the best. Chinese Tradition and Culture is unknown. I mean, I am interested in the subject but I don't know what the professor is like. He/she can ruin the subject like Professor Glick does to History of Science and Technology. Or he/she can teach it as well as Professor Charles Griswold does to Introduction to Ethics. The last one is a history course. I hate history. I am never good at it. Numerous references confuse me; they are disparaging too because I never know many of them. I am intelligent, but I am easily hurt because I am as sensitive as a seed in the wind. A seed is so little, little winds can carry it away at will. And last comes the American history. I don't have to take a fifth course but I choose anyway. For what reasons? I don't exactly know. Well, if I don't know. Why do I take it? I am happy with four courses. Why add another one? Why? Is that an excuse for me to stop working part-time because I need time to read and prepare for my classes? Yes, I need time. I need not work. I don't want to work. Gosh, I am contradicting myself. Sulky.

I think I am just disappointed at myself this semester. I am not happy with B's. I am not happy with myself. I am not happy with my vagueness, my inconclusiveness, my will to stay ambiguous. I even think I have been evil because of my false philosophy. I said I hated self-reflection. You see why again. I hate it. I hate it. I hate self-reflection.

Still, I can settle down and write my paper.

Almost 2PM.

Another few seconds added.

Another few.

I want myself to be normal again. I force myself every then and now. I manage to most of the time. But I fail at times too. I hate the face that I use so many I's here.

If I were honest since the begining!!!!! Living in a prison, what if you get used to it? The outside world suddenly appear so big and so fast and so noisy to you. What are you going to do with all your freedom? Why do I bind myself with all the non-existing rules? Rules?!

I wish I could talk to someone. I thought Professor Levine is my audience. But finally he appeared too aggressive and I shied away. Why is this me inside me? Tell you what, I hate moments like these. Tearing me apart. Mercilessly.

The Shawshank Redemption

2006-04-21T19:56:00.000-07:00

A superb storyline.
Powerful acting.
Intelligent voice over.

"Small. But not small enough." When I read that line, I felt like a prisoner myself. What can I do with all the freedom I have? Same question Hillel asked me.

Chang e

2006-04-21T12:53:00.000-07:00

Yes, Professor Levine makes feel uncomfortable. I am not going to the dinner with him. Final decision. Thanks my dear roommate Kathryn.

Change in me.

No, I am no longer going to be bothered about Mike. No matter what he does. None of my business.

I was too nice, too sweet, too naive to people.

I change.

Understanding CAS Writing

2006-04-21T07:10:00.000-07:00

My anthropology paper gets a B. Noah Coburn doesn't think I have stated my stand clearly. I know I do not. I thought it would be stupid to assert my stand because I was too naive to say something definite. This is a big problem in CAS writing. And I think, it is a problem for me in general. I am a person who doesn't really value taking a stand on something. Well, for my personal reasons, and for my personality, I will continue to be the way I have always been. As for my writing next time, I will take a clear stand even if it means I have to write a naive, stupid, and simplistic stand.

It makes me wonder then if I develop a habit of making a stand, I will develop a habit of supporting it with good arguments. Isn't all that good? Isn't all that I told Ziyun to do? Isn't all that how I am supposed to change in BU, in America?

I read today's newspaper. President Hu Jingtao met President George W. Bush. Falun Going protesters were yelling at Hu while he gave his speech. It is said on the newspaper that China is still executing Falun Going practitioners. Moreover, China is still harvesting organs from executed prisoners. That is so horrifying.

I thought over about Professor Levine. I finally came to a conclusion that his intention is to help me overcome my shyness. Out of what reasons? I am not sure. An old man may have a lot of unresolved wishes that he is no more shy to pursue. However, I am not sure what I am supposed to do. He gives me to permission to go to his house and read his books. He wants me to take initiatives. And he knows I am passive. Right now, I am not thinking he is an evil person. But I do think that he chose me to be his audience carefully.

Yesterday, an Indian man agreed orally that he would move in the apartment and he made an appointment with Professor Levine to sign the cntract the next day. Professor Levine never asked him for any references. Remember? this old Jewish man asked me for three references, all of whom he called and asked if I am a responsible person.

I don't know why Professor Levine wants to know if I can be trusted so much. He mentioned his concern of my trustworthiness several times in our conversation too. What indeed does he want to share with me? It is somehow both mysterious and eerie.

He is also so concerned with if I have any close friends. He is also concerned with if I get lonely, sad, or melanchonic often. He said he was interested in me. And he, apparently, wants me to be interesed in him although he knows I have no reasons to be so.

I am going to have dinner with him this Sunday at Harvard University. Maybe I can figure more things out then.

And to add a little bit more to the above, I do get uncomfortable when I notice some of his actions and words show his intention of making a move on me. (Well, he said he liked me.) However, I really would like to think him as a decent professor. I hope he is. If not, I will learn my lesson. This world will be a darker place. That will hurt me so much. That will make me maturer and stronger. Maybe more resilient too. But that is too much thinking. I would like to just stick to what I think above. Enough.

By the way, I am so interested in reading the news these days. I am getting more and more serious about what's happening in the world and how I, well, shall take a stand in the whirl of world affairs. Ambitious.

Professor Levine

2006-04-20T19:20:00.000-07:00

He wanted me to be his mentor. But he is the professor. I am just a student.
He wanted me to understand my shyness better by helping him with his shyness.
This is the task that he sets forth for me.

"Are you curious about me?" he asked.
I paused.
"To a certain extend," I lied.
I am not curious about him. No, not at all.
"Well, you have no reason to," he said.
That was followed by long long silence.

He did not discuss my paper with me. But our conversation lasted for an hour and a half. I had such bad English. I could have told him more about Falungong and other things.

My friend, can you believe this? I am not lying.

Before I left, he invited me to dinner this Sunday at Harvard University.

Am I a shy person? After talking to him, I don't think I am a shy person any more. "Why are you so good to me?" I asked him after he invited him to dinner. I don't want to go away wondering what was on his mind.

"I think you are interesting, you have a lot of potential, and I like you because. . ."

I am sorry, after I heard "I like you" I could not pay any more attention to what he was saying although I was nodding. Everything seemed so normal, so peaceful, so inconsequential. Yet, everything I have thought pure and innocent changed. This is a really odd professor. I suddently don't know why he is so good to me. I mean, of course, there is nothing. However, he could have said things differently and at least behaved differently so that there would not be much space for me or anyone to poke into the matter and say, "Hey, he is making a move on you." And that really disgusts me like hell.

When I started discussing political matters with him, he stopped me. He said he just wanted to know me. "You," he said. "It is you that I am interested in."

"Oh," I replied. I was shocked. I showed him a shocked face.

"I want to know why you are shy. I want to help you."

Help me? Please, you can help me by just talking to me about political and religious issues. I want to talk to someone else.

A Long Day

2006-04-19T21:44:00.000-07:00

I drank tea before I went to bed last night. I couldn't sleep until 3am.

I skipped a class this morning because I did not get up on time to do the homework.

I went to Krasker and watched The Shawshank Redemption after school. Good movie.

I worked from 730 to 1130pm. I don't know what's happening between Mike and me. Weird.

(It is I who never know how to approach him though it is he who said he did not know how to approach me. I joined Whitney and Rosita and Mike when three of them were talking together not because of Mike was there but because the radio was playing an old English song, which I knew - I listened to it when I was in Huayi. And stupid Mike turned right away when I walked in. And later when Rosita, the really stupid and lazy Rosita, no offense, made a water bomb out of a plastic glove, when Whitney and Rosita and I were using that weird-looking thing to do various gestures, when I moved the fake fingers around and formed a sign, Mike uttered, "That's truth!" If the sign I was doing really meant truth, I would be the ignorant one. The thing is, I don't think it means truth. I never know it means truth. And, what about truth? Mike named his first message to me as "veritas," Harvard University's motto, defined as searching for the truth or the truth. In his message, he said he lies all the time. OMG, this boy has been trying to confuse me fromt the beginning. He needs not to be mad at me because I did not do anything for his birthday. He said he invited 12 people to go to his birthday party but nobody showed up. Was I one of the 12? How does he define invitation? I'd rather think I was not invited. But then, I don't know why he did not invite me if I am his friend, I mean, normal friend. I don't think there is what people call intimacy between us. But there are a lot of things unsaid and unresolved between us. Neither one is making an effort to really know the other. He is kinda more active than me, initiating one conversation and another. However, I don't know, when I actually talked to him, I felt everything was so so damn odd. I wish I had known him differently. )

Rose said she wanted sex. She said a small penis was not satisfying. She talked about using chess pieces as men's genitals. All when we had dinner. She is bisexual. She says if she likes someone, she will go and tell that person. If that person rejects her, then she will think that person is stupid because he or she rejects her without knowing her. Rose will never think she is stupid too to walk up to that person and say "I love you." Do general Americans know that?

His Mind as Complicated as Mine

2006-04-16T19:05:00.000-07:00

Alright, another story between Mike and me.

"I changed my facebook quote," Mike said.
"What did you change it to?" I asked.
Mike smiled quietly.
"Please go and check it out," Mike demanded.
"Ok!" I said.
"I changed mine too. I just realized my name means a genius in Chinese. Tian Cai. I am a genius," I kept talking. I shut up finally when I noticed his smile faded.
"Remember to check it out," he said. A second reminder.
"Ok!" I said. I remembered.

That was the little mysterious episode before I found out Mike lied to me.
He did not change his favorite quote in his facebook profile. But he did add his birthday there. It was 04/14.

The same birthday as my cousin's. I will remember this fact from now on and forever.

I did not see him anywhere on Friday although I kept an eye out for him in the crowds.

I did not plan to give him any birthday gift because I disliked the fact that he seemed to be demanding a gift from me. Moreover, my mind was not working up to think of any gift.

I let the hours pass by quietly in classes.

Later in the afternoon, I sent a message to him and wished him happy birthday.

Along with that message, I wished him good luck if he ran the Boston Marathon next Monday.

"Im running a marathon in western mass in may. i am not east enough to run this one."

I don't think there is even a thing called Western Massachusetts Marathon. The Boston Marathon is one of the biggest Boston events in a year. I was convinced that Mike was fooling me. He likes to draw a distinction between the west and the east. Just like me.

"Well, who cares if you are not east enough?"

I don't think I really knew what I wanted to mean then. I just did not feel like thinking too hard for an answer. I sent him whatever I could think of at that moment.

When he later saw my angry message, which stated he lied to me, on the facebook, he replied:

"I actually just noticed that. I screwed something up. 'I am not going to fire a $2 million missile at a 10 cent empty tent and hit a camel in the butt.' -- George W. Bush"

Ok, what the hell does Mr. Mike Harrison mean?

He changed his quote finally to this one. Surprisingly, I liked it too and changed the About Me section in my facebook profile to this quote, followed by my reaction - "That made me laugh for a while."

I don't think I want to send him any messages in future. If I can, I will save whatever I want to say for a Wednesday delivery. Wednesday, that's when we work together.

At Breakfast

2006-04-15T08:57:00.000-07:00

I was with Julia at breakfast just now. I talked; she listened.

Beat Movement

2006-04-14T20:51:00.000-07:00

I attended the BU Cinematheque tonight. It was an evening with Chuck Workman, a documentarian who holds the pretigious job of making montages for the Academy Awards. He showed his favourite work, a montage named Pieces of Silver, which shows films from the early 20th century. He also showed "his brilliant, lucid feature documentary, The Source (1999)" about the Beat Generation from the 1950s and early 1960s in America. The three main characters in The Source are Allen Ginsberg whose famous book of poems is Howl, William Burroughs whose famous book is The Naked Lunch, and Jack Kerouac whose famous noval is On the Road.

The above is just some basic information about the Beat Generation, which presents a significant "social and literary movement" in post-WW2 America. A bunch of young adults, named "beatniks" started to oppose the conventional ideologies in society; to them, "the joylessness and purposelessness of modern society [are] sufficient justification for both withdrawal and protest". They also "advocated personal release, purification, and illumination through the heightened sensory awareness" and did so "by [using] drugs, jazz, sex, or the disciplines of Zen Buddhism. " The most outstanding feature of the Beat Generation is the new style of speaking the English language. Poems with no strict structures were popular. Poems were for everyone on the streets but not only those academic elites.

What's striking in the interviews with Ginsberg is that he speaks of drugs (marijuana) as not something harmful. According to him, people have just not yet found a way to use drugs appropriately for the beneficial side of them. He used marijuana whenever he had a chance to. He values the "heightened sensory awareness" that drugs give to him very highly.

Being open-minded, as most Americans are, is not a favorable characteristic gained overnight. When the Beat Generation was first formed, the public despiced their behavior and their ideologies, which include their approval of homosexuality. However, people's attitudes towards them changed when they realized the benefits that the Beatniks' energy brought to society. It was almost like a literaray Renaissance at that period of time because iterature progressed swiftly. In addition, many Americans also learnt to criticize the rigidness in the state's control publically. The American culture was also re-directed to advocate a high-level devotion to personal achievement in happiness.

Chuck Workman spoke about the issue of waiting in his career. He said, "As a film-maker, you always have to learn to wait." He gave us many examples of him waiting for his actors and actresses to show up, waiting for fundings to shoot films, etc. When he mentioned his encounters with Michael Jackson and Johny Depp, I suddenly felt I was connected to the film industry, though not quite there yet. He said Michael Jackson was just like a 10-year-old boy. As for Johny Depp, he is a guy who seems not to like to confront people. Depp asked his lawyer to tell Workman's lawyer things like: "I want to quit the job," and "Now I want to stay, I like him(Workman)." Very interesting.

Don't Dwell in My Emotional World

2006-04-13T17:21:00.000-07:00

I realize after all, I am not a creature who likes to dig into its inner self. I feel odd thinking too much about myself and always tend to feel sick after a while of intensive self-reflection.

One day, I'd like the writing on my deadstone to be something like: "Tian was nobody extraordinary. She had made little achievements throughout her little life. And she only had hoped for what a big difference she can make to the big world."

Self-consciousness

2006-04-11T12:49:00.000-07:00

I had been on the phone with Dad for two hours before the battery went out. These nights, I am often too ambitious to fall sleep. I have to think things over before I shut down my brain. It is as if I have just embarked on an intellectual expedition. Surprisingly, more than often, this expedition turns out to be not simply intellectual. It also carries a transformation force that put me forward in a crowd, break my limits, and talk to people actively. I realize that I can actually lead a conversation instead of letting whoever is sitting across the table rattle about his or her own experiences and opinions. I realized it when I had lunch with Sarah, and when I had my break with Jessica. (Mike later joined us. When he said that Chinese is useless, I was kinda of agitated, although I knew nothing better to throw something bad about English on his face at that moment.) I have to tell Professor Hillel Levine next time that I have a group of friends with whom I do not party but just talk. Sometimes when my friends appear to be too eloquent, I tend to recoil and remain quiet and listen to their words. However, I am making conscious efforts to change that situation now. Yes, I have to admit that deep down in me, I still have this problem of being a perfectionist. I want every word that I speak to ring in people's minds. But this is changing now. I am less meticulous about what I say. Ultimately, what's bad about a few lies? Mike Harrison lies all the time. I think Hillel does too. (Do Jews enjoy lying?) Moreover, I don't think Mike's argument is totally invalid. He said, "I think being anti-social is good . . . . " I am willing to give myself some space to grow. In other words, I allow myself some freedom to deviate from those visible and invisible laws governing my life. Execellent.

Penny came and told me some funny things that happened to her team in her management course. There had been many fights among her teammates. Because nobody could take it anymore, they went to their professor to sort things out. Their professor was obvioulsly made fretful by the noisy group and sent them to attend a team building workshop. Her people were still quarrelling with one another in front of the instructor of the workshop. A said, "I know you don't like me." "I don't," B replied. A said, "but you shouldn't give me such low marks." "I did," B replied. "You didn't do anything." A said, "You did do nothing, either."

Honestly, I don't want to take any course in SMG (short form for the School of Management, also, sex, money and greed) because my brain has always been wired differently from those managers'. I am proud of who I am, but I am not in love with myself. Next time I shall tell people that I am hopelessly proud of my Chinese culture, but I am not in love with it.

Spending a Lifetime Categorizing Colors

2006-04-09T10:38:00.000-07:00

At first, I was thinking about my paper. Individuo-centrism versus sociocentrism? Which one applies to American society better?
Then, I was reading some Internet pages and thinking Hillel's lifetime goal.
An hour or two ago, Danielle and I had a conversation on cultural revolution.
Now, I am reading Blackbird House by Alice Hoffman and thinking about a theme to be discussed in my reading journal due in 21 hours.
I can't type.
I can't write.
My head is in a whirl.

I am so guilty and annoyed recently because of my ignorance. There is so much that I don't know.

Hillel Levine

2006-04-06T18:55:00.000-07:00

http://www.iimhc.org/Board.html

I talked to Professor Hillel Levine at his house today. He asked sharp questions. I could handle his questions at the beginning but as he questions more and more deeply, I could hardly handle anymore. This is bugging me right now!

"Do you think BU is good for you?"
"I don't really get the essence of that question."
"Does it in anyway challenge you? Do you find the classes below your intellectual level?"
. . .
"How do you want to present China to America?"
. . .
"Don't you think the world already knows Chinese are hard-working?"
. . .
"Do you think making America and China compete with each other is good?"
. . .

Of course, the most relieving thing I have heard tonight is that he welcomes me to his house over the summer and have tea and talk with him. He asked me what was the most important thing that I wanted someone to do for me. I answered simply as talking.

At the moment, he still awes me. I hope I will get rid of this emotion soon.

Wanting to Do

2006-04-05T22:17:00.000-07:00

Mike asked me how to say "excuse me" in Chinese. Dui Bu Qi or Bu Hao Yi Si, whichever! He thought for a while and replied, "Chinese exaggerates things so much!" Why? "'Excuse me' doesn't mean 'I am embarrassed' at all."How shall I explain? His statement already shocked me. I just told him next time he could say "Ma Fan Ni . . . ." I don't know how he will say this time. But I am really happy that he made me think more about my culture.

"What are you going to do over the summer?" he also asked.
"I have no plans yet," I said. "I will probably work. And I am still considering taking a writing course."
"So you will be in Boston?" he asked again.
"Right," I said. "What about you?"
"I am going to do research here. My parents are coming too."
"Oh, you told me before."
"Oh?" Mike did not remember he did tell me before about his research. "And I will probably work too. Where are you going to work?"
"I am considering FitRec. It is open throughout the summer."
"Yeah, I think that is a good summer job. More decent than this one."
"Maybe."

Do I really want to work over the summer? Yes, I want to work but not just for the money. I want to work because I'm a grown-up, I feel right to support myself financially, and I can't be reading books all day. Of course, I can register for summer school and gain some credits so that I can graduate faster. However, I'm so taken back at the idea of not being truly and happily free. I can read books at my own pace if I don't take any courses. I will have to do homework and worry about deadlines if I do. Since I am a disciplined girl, why can't I choose the former? I deserve a nice and free first summer in the States. Friends have invited me to go to their places. CA, NJ, PA, NC, etc. But now I really feel like this old, poor, frugal lady who is unwilling to spend her money. I need it to pay for the rent and the living expenses both this summer and next academic year. I wanna buy a desktop computer, a video-camera and some simple furniture because I will definitely live off-campus next year. Haha, if I can secure two jobs, I will be perfectly fine.

What about my dream? What about my career? I can't think any more about those now. Something unpleasant is buggging me.

I wanna be a pretty summer girl walking down the street with a bright smile.
I wanna get up early each day and brew my own tea and make my own breakfast.
I wanna spend the evenings reading my books, or walking in the streets downtown, or enjoying a tasty but cheap meal while talking to a friend or two.
I wanna keep talking with someone like Professor Voskeritchian, or someone like Mike, or someone like Penny. (This wish actually boils down to I wanna a companian.)
I really wanna all of the above. God? Ok, God, make me feel better, alright?

Lost My Focus

2006-04-03T12:25:00.000-07:00

Professor Griswold did Not fight in the Vietnam War. He was not called up in the draft. What am I going to write in my profile if I write about him? What about a philosophy professor?

I want to cry now.

Crossroads

2006-03-28T19:33:00.000-08:00

I flooded myself with pop Chinese songs tonight. The first was the one in Lei's blog. And I discovered another song in another's blog. And another. And another.

Americans also don't like to use ellipses or exclaimation marks. They think when they write, they are writing about facts. Yet many times, they are not.

I decided to flush some of me down the toilet, for now. I am not gonna achieve anything if I take an ambiguous position. (But, but, but.)

I know how to behave among the Americans in order to blend in with them. I am just being unwilling to. One thing that I really don't want to happen is that I gain a dual identity. I don't wanna be contrapuntal.

If I pretend, I will pretend. But I will just do so for the sake of pretending. I will not let my true self go, never.

When did I start sounding so aggressive?

Confronted

2006-03-27T21:42:00.000-08:00

I shall have noticed long before. I did, but I never really thought further about it.
Americans are not email people, they do not use text messages, and they usually prefer talking to someone face-to-face than using the telephone.
I was confronted by Mike just now. He came to Late Nite Cafe where I worked today. He told me he had received my email. I knew he did.
Unfortunately, I only understood 30% of what he said. His cousin is studying in the U.K. America have 70 of the best 200 colleges in the world. "Do you like America?" he asked.
My reaction was similar to the one I had when he asked me if I liked the job.
"I like it better than Singapore," I said.
Please, I don't mean I love America. I will always love China and I want to glorify (this is an empty and silly word but I have to use it) my Chinese culture. You little American boy will not know what I mean.
That's it for now. I am so tempted to email him again, well, just let him know what I think since he asked.

Profile

2006-03-27T12:55:00.000-08:00

An interesting place or an interesting person?
I can't decide who or which place to write.
It is supposed to be 7 or 8 pages.

My anthropology paper, 6 to 7 pages.

My history paper, 10 pages.

The PSA project is due on April 5th.

My next writing paper is due a few weeks from now.

Good luck, girl.

Back to Me

2006-03-26T10:12:00.000-08:00

Mike said he likes white girls more than Asians because Asians are too disciplined for him. I am really disciplined. I don't think he meant "I love you" when he said it.

I guess it should be the end of a little misunderstanding sort of story. Some misunderstanding and some sort of teasing and some sort of knowing each other better.

I am glad to know the truth. In fact, my life experiences are richer now, because of all the thinking. I am too sweet.

Teasing

2006-03-24T15:42:00.000-08:00

Let's say I am just an inexperienced girl who cannot be rational in her first encounter with "I love you." And let's just say I am ambiguous about my own feelings.

Right, I, the disciplined girl as Mike mentioned, called my parents and told them basically about everything. Dad wanted me to be outgoing but warned me not to day-dream about Mike too. Dad didn't know the day-dreaming part was what I found most romantic about BGR. After listening to his suggestion, my heightened mood plunged. Will I listen to him?

All my friends are experimenting with love by themselves. Most of them are fine except a few who run into trouble. I have been very protected since I was a little girl. Making decisions about love matters seems so challenging to me. So, will I listen to him?

Let's just talk about Mike. I don't know much about this boy. But I believe what I see is just an illusion. I cannot jump into judgment about Mike's character. He is just someone there saying "I love you."

What about me? I am passive. It is true that I have day-dreamed about Mike and me, but the day-dreaming is way into the future. I believe I did that partly because I wanted to know what I would be like in this culture.

Impulsively, I would like to quickly jump into a relationship with him because it will not hurt. You know, we can try things out first and see if we can be with each other. If yes, okay. If no, fine. (Western)

But giving a second thought, I am so determined to just take it easy and let it be. I will meet him next time, smile at him, exchange a few greetings, and wish him well. I will just wait for everything to fall into its place as time goes by. (Eastern)

Haha, I hope my spoken English will improve at light-speed this summer. (My writing is improving fast now. Professor Voskeritchian praised my work again today.) In that way, I can be more at ease with Mike, and other people too.

Romance

2006-03-23T12:00:00.000-08:00

Everything that has happened between Mike and I is so awkward. Both of us are too aware of each other's cultural background. We spoke little but we thought so much about each other. I know I am thinking about him. And he just told me he did too.

It is less romantic and less conventional than what you probably imagine. In fact, it all went into a big mess last night when we worked together.

Mike slithered behind the food preparation table where I was putting frozen strawberries into a pan. He adjusted his height by bending his knees and asked me which positioin made me feel most comfortable talking to. I laughed and told him I was okay with his normal height.

Silence.

He was not satisfied with such an answer. He said he felt so dumb every time he approached me and asked me how he should approach me.

"You know, the westerners do a handshake but how do you want me to greet you?" Mike asked.

While he was asking, he grabbed my arms from behind and wanted to know if that worked.

I was so shocked at what Mike was doing. Angela, our manager, and Tom, another student worker passed. Angela said my name loudly and I replied "Hi, Angela!"

Seriously, I did not know how to answer Mike. I suddently thought of the way he usually greeted me. That was that he would bow like an Englishman. I immitated the bow and told him that was okay. (I know I was equally dumb at the moment.)

He insisted he should try something else. He put his hands away but tried them once more on me, same position, very slight grab. I did not know what to say until he asked me if I was comfortable like that. I uttered "no" immediately. He quicky removed his hands and apologized. "How do you want it to be?" "I don't know, Mike. I really don't know."

Our conversation was unresolved. But both of us had to go back to work. He was consciously avoiding me while Angela, Whitney, Paul, and Yucheng all came to me at different times and asked me about Mike. "Is he flirting to you?" "If you get very uncomfortable, let us know." "Tell us if it is too awkward."

People were trying to protect me from my friend Mike. I told them I knew Mike long ago and we used to have lunch together with another two friends and I was nice to him because I was generally a very nice girl and I gave him a Christmas gift before.

What else?

"Do you like the job?"
I grimaced. Why do you ask?
"Oh, yah." He grimaced.

What else?

I wanted to tell Mike to stop avoiding me because I told people about us. I waited and waited. Finally I had a chance to do so, I did. I told him people were thinking he was flirting to me and I told them not to worry. Mike admitted he liked Chinese girls and he admired me because I was very disciplined. (Well, do I?)

Anyway.

He said "I love you" when we were alone. He said he did that to everybody. I said nothing. I nodded. It was sort of like an "okay." But he soon added he would miss me and the three-word line.

"How do you say 'I miss you' in Chinese?"
"You know it."
"I can check it up in the dictionary."
"Wo Xiang Ni."
"Wo Xiang Ni."

We met today during breakfast again. He could be as normal as everybody else. He was just extremely normal when he told me about his research paper and how he disliked his professor for telling him the wrong place for the books for his paper. He was making efforts to talk to me while Penny and I were talking to each other in Chinese. He was just consciously making efforts while I was always passive. I have difficulties understanding his English every time when the environment is noisy. He cannot always catch what I am saying because I have a weird accent. It is just so awkward between us.

What shall I do? Stay passive? Do I like him? I find him attractive, just like he finds me attractive. (I guess I am not talking about physical attraction here. He is interested in the Chinese culture whereas I hope I will know more about the American culture through knowing Americans.) We only meet once a week at work. The other times are purely by chance.

Is it romantic? I don't know. I just don't know, don't know, don't know.

"Hmmm, I am who I am. I am his friend. I guess, haha, that is all."

I am this stubborn little girl who is never ready for romance. But I can be hopelessly romantic in my imagination sometimes. Haha. That is the weird me. I am hopeless.

My Favourite Mistake

2006-03-22T14:06:00.000-08:00

I made my favourite mistake today by going to the pre-registration session for juniors and seniors. I bet I was the only freshman there because I saw no familiar faces at all!

It was very informational. I learnt useful things about being a film major.

But I was kind of stressed out too. The COM building always makes me feel awed somehow. The people there, especially the juniors and seniors, always wear semi-formal suits and girls always put on fine make-up. They smell good by the way.

Film festivals, internships, summer terms, study abroad programs. Just when? When can I get involved in them? I still have my essays to write at the moment!! Little essays that are time-consuming because I want to get A's for them. (I don't really hate the essays, but I really want more time to deal with film.)

My Works

2006-03-19T17:04:00.001-08:00

CO201 Communication Writing
Memoir
Tianzi Cai

Memories of "Mrs. Reed"

"Do you have escalators in China?" Mrs. Tan asked, her high-pitched voice crackling the still atmosphere in the carpeted hallway of the airport. I gazed at her in disbelief. While the sneer on her face was fading, a sense of acute forlornness started to penetrate all of my cells.

This memory often comes back when I use escalators. It also draws out a series of somber events I have experienced in Nanyang Girls' Boarding School in Singapore. Mrs. Tan was my guardian back then; the school assigned her to take care of the foreign students selected for its full-scholarship program.

I met Mrs. Tan the first time in Singapore Changi Airport. I had traveled with a group of girls who had received the scholarship from China to Singapore together. Being only 15 or 16 at that time, many of us had never been abroad before. We were excited, giggling and chatting as we walked on the conveyer belt. Our guide told us the fine lady standing at the end of the Arrival Hall was our guardian, Mrs. Tan. I remember on that day, Mrs. Tan was clad in crimson cheongsam -- a traditional Chinese long-dress then. Unlike popular and fashionable cheongsams that are sleeveless and short, hers had long sleeves and covered all the way to her ankles. From a distance, she looked elegant and dignified.

However, as I approached Mrs. Tan, her face stunned me. She had heavy make-up that did not match the type of cheongsam she was wearing at all. The thick permanent eye-liner made her eyes look outstandingly bulging. She frowned at us, her look bitter and scornful. When we greeted her, she inspected us one by one by looking at each person from head to toe and paid special attention to our lower bodies. This made some of us uncomfortable; I saw one girl adjusting her dress nervously. Mrs. Tan did not greet us back. She only hastily told us that the bus was waiting and stressed we should hurry up. As we obediently walked towards the exit to take the escalator, a shrill voice broke the silence in the hallway: "Do you have escalators in China? You know how to go down or not?"

That was how I first knew Mrs. Tan. I did not like her at that point partly because she was not a modest and tender woman as I had expected of my guardian, partly because she thought China was rural. Depressingly, my impression for her was going to get worse in the next few days.

. . . .

Years have passed since I left Nanyang. It is a good middle school. Not only because it has always ranked the third and higher among all other schools in the general examination results across the country, but also because that it has produced the first First Lady and a list of famous women in the history of Singapore. Nanyang's motto is diligence, prudence, respectability, and simplicity. However, those qualities never appealed to me when I was there because the idea that I was a "mannerless" girl was drilled into me. On the day of graduation, I reveled in the prospect of leaving the school.

Last year before I left Singapore for America, I happened to see Mrs. Tan in a supermarket buying her groceries. I had not seen her for three years. As usual, she was wearing a cheongsam. However, half of her hair had turned grey and she seemed to have shrunk from old age. I went up to her to say "hi," but she could not remember who I was. She asked for my name in a feeble voice. After I told her, she squinted as if trying to recall the past. After a long pause, I knew she had forgotten completely about everything - what she had said about me and my name. I felt pointless to talk to her. She remembered nothing whereas I did not want to remember anything. Later as I was about to leave, I heard Mrs. Tan from my back. She was calling my name in an unprecedentedly soft way. I turned over. She looked petite between two rows of racks.

"Tian," she said. "Next time don't wear mini-skirts."

I chuckled and shrugged. "She had no ways of controlling me any more!" No, but I still nodded.

CO201 Communication Writing
Professor Taline Voskeritchian
Film Review - Match Point by Woody Allen
Tianzi Cai

Match Point by Woody Allen gives me the feeling of "a sexy beauty" but not "a classical beauty." When the camera closes on the luscious woman Nola as she gives her first philosophical and somewhat mystical speech, Nola's voice is exactly Allen's. Being sexy is inevitable while being classical is lucky; that is true for both this woman and this movie.

I feel obliged to praise Match Point because it resembles a good student's work. Indeed, Allen has neatly tailored the short-story material into a plot-driven film. Both the sexed-up scenes that capture how simmering lust turns irresistible, and the compelling storyline that pushes the development of the plot, contribute to the movie's overall attractiveness. However, such fine crafting does not make the movie notably brilliant. On one scale, it supersedes many other dramas and thrillers. On another, it falls short of becoming a classic. The reasons are multiple.

. . . .

Lousy Results

2006-03-17T07:13:00.000-08:00

I got B for my history midterm and C for my anthropology midterm. I don't like those two classes, seriously. What shall I do?

Why don't I like them?

1. Anthropology: Professor Hefner's lectures are boring. He is eloquent but he fails to stimulate interest in students. Course wise, it is interesting. I enjoyed reading the first two assigned books. But the third one, Jocks and Burnouts is really a pain in the ass.
2. History: Professor Glick's lecture are more boring. He is monotonous; he does not make any effort in engaging us in the course materials. He just continues his lecture by reading the prepared notes. Furthermore, I have a hard time trying to read the assigned books. I tend to lose my focus and feel sleepy easily.

Next semester, I am going to choose my courses carefully!

Brilliant Idea

2006-03-16T17:53:00.000-08:00

I couldn't sleep last night because I had a brilliant, brilliant idea!
Next summer, I will ride one of Penny's dad's ships from Panama to China. On the way back, I will do a documentary on the lives of the crew.
I will save money to buy a video-camera before next summer;
I will speak with a film production professor;
I will convince and do an interview with Penny's dad, who once was a sailor;
I will do a lot of preparations.
I find the focus of my life!
This just feels so so so great.

An Arrow Pointing Up

2006-03-14T13:58:00.000-08:00

The sun is shining.
The birds are singing.
The street is teemed with joy.
I am happy.

My Communication Writing Professor Voskeritchian liked my memoir and gave me a B+! Knowing that she sparingly gives students A and seldom gives A-, I am really proud of my work. I see how bitter memories can yield bittersweet accomplishments. In class yesterday, Professor Voskeritchian commented, "What a character! Poor Mrs. Tan!" I was glad she liked my work but I was surprised that instead of pitying me, she pitied Mrs. Tan. I wrote an Email to Professor Voskeritchian today and mentioned briefly my reaction. She wrote me back, "Your characterization of Mrs. Tan was superb, and I will always remember it. Well, I said poor Mrs. Tan because of the final section in which you show her in her decline. As for you, you are young and have already overcome her injuries by having written this memoir!!!! See you tomorrow." Believe or not, I have more A materials and one day I am going to work on them.

I found an apartment for my summer vacation. The land lord is a BU professor. My roommates are friendly. The rent is cheap. How lucky!

Oh, I have a picture of me wearing a mask. We were resting in the shade of a big tree in front of a house, which we technically worked strenuously to tear apart. The stink of the furniture, which had soaked in water in the post-Katrina months, the dusk rosen from knocked-down plaster walls, the sweat from our forehead. I will never forget that day.

Back

2006-03-12T11:46:00.000-08:00

I am back from the trip. I hope I will have time to write about it this week.

School starts tomorrow. Energetic!

Vacation

2006-03-03T17:26:00.000-08:00

I am on vacation.

I just went to dinner with Mike, Penny, Keoki, anc Liu Chang. When Keoki found out that I invited Mike, he pulled a face. Mike is too weird to go out and have dinner with us?

During dinner, Liu Chang whispered to me that Mike is an interesting person.

As for me, I think Mike is he-knows-himself-and-others-too-well. Well, I may be biased, but I wished I would communicate more with him.

We went to a Thai restaurant.

Like "Cold Mountain"

2006-02-28T21:52:00.000-08:00

This is Mike smoking a cigarette.
Mike told me he was diagonised to have a kind of mental disorder that is common among scientists.
Yah, he is definitely the weird guy among us, consider the way he speaks and behaves. But he can't be bad. - 3/2/2006

I know it is exaggerated again, but I also think it is the best way to present what I have in mind.

Looking back at my previous entry, I noticed what I had predicted about myself is inaccurate. I said I would not think about Mike after that night, and after I wrote the entry. Yes, I have been thinking about him these days - when I listen to Beethoven, when I read his profile in thefacebook.com., when I walked past the Late Night Cafe, when I looked at my pink overcoat.

In the movie Cold Mountain, the soldier and his sweetheart has only a few exchanges of words, yet they remember the details of each other so well that even after years of not seeing each other, they still feel so much about each other. I don't know why I remember so many pieces of unrelated things about Mike. It could simply that he is a guy and a bit eccentric and I like to observe people. But Julia, Rose, and some of my female friends have distinct characters too. How come I don't remember so many things about them?

I asked Mike to listen to Happiness from Pipa Images by Lin Hai last semester. Could this be one of the possible reasons that he asked me to go to a symphony? He lists in his profile that he likes outdoor activities. Why did he refuse to go out with Penny and I last time when we invited him to go ice-skating with us? He asked me what I thought about the job. I said, "It is just a job." I don't know what kind of answer that is. But I wasn't sure how to answer him at that moment. When I knew he likes gastronomy. I realized maybe he wanted me to ask him too and he could answer by saying, "I like cooking; I am a good cook!" One of his online groups is debating. What a surprise! Because he always speak to me in an extremely slow manner, I have always been thinking that there is something wrong with his ability of speech. (You see? I am thinking too much. )

What other silly imaginations do I have? I studied in the study lounge just now in hope Mike would see me when he passed by because he had to pass by that place after he finished his work. But then, I did not know why I left earlier than the time he was off and rushed upstairs. I was ambiguous in my emotions.

Penny will probably laugh out loudly when she sees this. I will probably laugh loudly too. But I just can't resist being honest about myself.

Mike is an honest person. Nobody expect him punches in and out when he or she takes a break while working. I saw his punch card and realized he does.

By the way, I checked online the price of the tickets to the Beethoven Symphony. It ranges from 31 to 118 dollars if I don't remember wrongly. He said he had some free tickets. I believe his tickets are free. If tomorrow I meet him at work, I am going to ask him if he wants to have lunch with us on Thursday or Friday.

Overall, I find Mike is a bit mysterious and thus a bit attractive. : )

Very Very Very Very Disappointed

2006-02-24T10:46:00.000-08:00

T.V told me why she gave me a C+ for my news story. The major problem is choppiness. I, apparently, lack transistions throughout my writing. My ideas are not connected. She commented, "you seem to be jumping." I know that is always my problem.

Last night, I was working on my analytical essay, I spent so much time just on making sure all my topic sentences support my thesis statement. I realized just how much off-topic content I had in my draft.

How to work on that? Does my writing here have the same problem?

I Don't Know How to Love

2006-02-22T20:45:00.000-08:00

Every time Mike sees me wearing my pink overcoat, which is of the typical Burberry design, he says something nice. I remember last time I walked past him and he just uttered in the middle of a conversation with another guy, "Oh, I love that coat!" Apparently, Mike has similar taste in clothes as my father. He has commented two pieces of my clothes in the past, both of which my father likes very much too.

Today at my work, I saw Mike coming in. He was not supposed to work today because he has different shifts from I. As usual, he was clad in his black overcoat, which I have seen him wearing for months! One distinct difference from his usual outfit today was that he wore a Burberry scarf. He walked past me without looking at me, while I was staring at him. What was up with Mike?

I prepared the frozen fruits with Kim and Whitney afterwards. I did not take much notice of Mike. Suddenly, I heard him calling my name from my back. I turned over and saw him with a big comical smile on his face.

"$#%@$^?" Mike asked.

I grimaced. He was talking too fast; I could not catch him.

"$#%@$^?" Mike asked again.

No, I still did not hear him and I told him that.

"$#%@$^?" Mike asked again.

I was like, "I am sorry but what?" It was quite noisy in the kitchen.

"$#%@$^?" Mike asked again.

Whitney was there by the fourth time. Whitney did not hear what he said either. She asked him to repeat.

Mike hesitated. In the meanwhile, I told Whitney I could not hear Mike.

"Do you wanna go to a symphony with me and a few other of my friends? I have some free tickets," Mike said to my face.

This time I heard. Whitney heard it too. But since I said nothing, Whitney started to explain to me what a symphony is, "It's like classical music. . . ."

I felt hot in my face; it was probably glowing. Both Whitney and Mike were staring at me then.

"What day is that?" I asked Mike.

"It is next Thursday, March 1st." Mike replied.

"Oh, no. I have a mid-term on Friday," I said. "I am sorry."

"I have a paper due next Friday," added Whitney.

"Oh," Mike blew. "It is alright."

I looked down. He left.

I turned back to the platform where the frozen fruits were placed. Whitney exclaimed, "Oh my God, he just asked you out for a date!"

I was stunned. I might not have realized but that was it. I whispered to Whitney, "I think he has misunderstood something. I came to work last Thursday when it was his shift. I could not make it on Wednesday because I had an important meeting."

Mike suddenly appeared behind us. I stopped talking and left for the refrigerator for some yoghurt.

Later, when I was pouring the yoghurt into a container, I was very anxious inside, though I did not show it on my face. I laughed at how Mike attempted to ask me out but ended up accidentally having Whitney as the medium to get his message across. I blamed myself for never saying anything further than "I am sorry," which is so common and uninteresting. I imagined too if I did go, I would wear my pink overcoat, which would match his Burberry scarf. There were lots of thoughts rushing through my mind at that moment. It was just the kind of feeling for little girls' and boys' love.

My anxiety faded later as we started working. Mike was doing the grill while Kim and I were doing the smoothies. We had no chance to talk to each other. However, when I was taking my break, Mike appeared from nowhere and started asking me about Singapore. There were a few exchanges of words. He moved his body in the typical Mike way - arms fumbling, eyes looking away, and his center of gravity shifting from one place to another.

I left early as usual. The rest work until 1245 AM whereas I only work until 1130 PM. I said "Goodbye" to him. He said the same line as last week, "It's nice having you here." I raised my eyebrows, trying to give a funny look, but I did not look at his face after I did my comical smile.

That is basically what happened just now. I don't know why I am not feeling much about being asked by a boy for the first time to a symphony. It could be that I have grown old and such kind of things does not get me too excited any more. It could be that I know deep down in my heart that for the western boys, especially the American boys, such things are as normal as meals. I just hopelessly believe that Mike will forget about the whole thing after today, maybe after this week, maybe until the next time he sees me. Maybe he will not recall what he did the next time he sees me. These thoughts prevent me from thinking about the thing any longer too. I know I will wake up going for my classes tomorrow and doing my work as usual. I just hopelessly believe so.

# Yucheng is a Chinese guy working today too. Last time, I had a happy short chat with him while I was taking my break. Today, for the first time in the past, he came to the smoothie station and offered to help me while Kim was away.

# Helen has a friend who wants to borrow my notes for the anthropology class. Helen said he somehow found out that I was in the class, since he was in the class only after two weeks after the start of the semester, he desperately needed the notes for the coming mid-term examination. I called Helen today to tell her that I would probably disappoint her friend because my notes are really bad.

# I know his name is Ronald. We met once, or maybe two times last year. But we are still not familiar with each other. Every time we see each other, we quickly exchange a glance but soon look away. This Tuesday, I saw him sitting outside my classroom. I gave him a surprised look because I thought he came to the wrong place. But afterwards, I saw him walking into the classroom across the hallway. I did not know he was in that classroom before. We are near.

I am extremely objective when I am writing the above. I swear. But why? Why is that I still don't have a boyfriend? Could it be that I have never known how to utilize the chances I had to establish a relationship? How come? Is it because of how I was taught when I was young? My experiences? Oh, how weird!

I told my roommate Kathryn about the Mike thing. She thought I would say "yes." After I told her I would have a mid-term next Friday, she said, "Oh." Maybe, maybe, Americans take such things slightly easier than Asians do.

Buck Up

2006-02-15T10:48:00.000-08:00

I got a check minus for my summary. It was badly written.
I still had no topic in mind for my history paper.
My summer leadership application was unsuccessful.
I was absent for my Communication Writing class today.
I am out of myself. Damn!

Ziyun Came

2006-02-12T20:20:00.000-08:00

Newborn?

2006-02-12T19:07:00.000-08:00

You Are a Newborn Soul

You are tolerant, accepting, and willing to give anyone a chance.
On the flip side, you're easy to read and easily influenced by others.
You have a fresh perspective on life, and you can be very creative.
Noconformist and nontraditional, you've never met anyone who's like you.

Inventive and artistic, you like to be a trendsetter.
You have an upbeat spirit and you like almost everything.
You make friends easily and often have long standing friendships.
Implusive and trusting, you fall in love a little too easily.

Souls you are most compatible with: Bright Star Soul and Dreaming Soul

What Kind of Soul Are You?

Mood Swing

2006-02-05T12:46:00.000-08:00

I've never learnt any manners.

I have attitude problems.

I am impulsive, untamed, disrespectful.

I am aggressive and I will kill you!

Muask! Lovely!

2006-02-02T13:24:00.000-08:00

Things are working out for me!

I went for the group interview for summer leadership program. I did well. If I pass the next round, which is the individual interview, I will get the job. That will mean four months' free housing for me. Woah, isn't that great?

Urban Plunge to Louisiana this spring break!

Theressa and her friend found a house in Kenmore. She invited Penny and me to have a look at it next week. Four of us may live together there next school year.

I am her

2006-02-01T21:08:00.000-08:00

Eilonwy

Which Disney Heroine Are You?
brought to you by Quizilla

Below is from http://www.genkistar.com/eilonwy.html

Princess Eilonwy is the charming heroine of Lloyd Alexander's Chronicles of Prydain. This five-book series, inspired by Welsh mythology, tells the story of Taran, a young Assistant Pig-Keeper who becomes a hero. Eilonwy is not the protagonist, but rather one of Taran's companions on his journeys. Although she may not be the main focus of the stories, she is the principal female, and is undoubtedly one of the series' most beloved characters. Indeed, Eilonwy is my all-time favourite book heroine. I know she has many other admirers, but when doing a search on the web, I was disappointed with to find a distinct lack of information about her. I feel that such a strong character deserves more recognition, so I decided to make this site. If you are already a fan of Eilonwy, I hope you will like what you find here. And if you are not yet acquainted with Eilonwy or Prydain, it is my goal to pique your interest about this wonderful series. Enjoy!

Heritage: Eilonwy is descended from the Sea People of Llyr. Her mother, Angharad, was a full-blooded enchantress as well as a princess. Her father, Geraint, was an ordinary commoner. Angharad went against her family's wishes by running away to marry him, as he was not considered worthy of her due to his lack of magical ability. Thus, Eilonwy was born with only half-enchantress blood and a royal title with no real claim to power.
Appearance: Especially noted for her long red-gold hair, she is of slender build, with intensely blue eyes and delicate, elfin facial features. She always wears a silver crescent necklace, a symbol of the House of Llyr which was handed down from her mother, but rarely ever bothers with a crown. In the beginning of the series, she is about thirteen years of age, and by the end she is nineteen or so.
Personality: Adventuresome and headstrong, the last thing Eilonwy concerns herself with is being a proper princess. She is intelligent, and furthermore, has a great deal of common sense. Self-confident and opinionated, she is never hesitant to tell Taran when she disagrees with him. However, although she can be sharp-tongued, Eilonwy is not unkind. She supports Taran in many of his decisions, even when she thinks he may have lost his wits, and is always there to reassure him of her faith in him. Her speech pattern is quite unique, as she often expresses her thoughts through creative similes.
Special Abilities: Half an enchantress on her mother's side, but lacking in serious formal training, Eilonwy posesses a fair amount of magic powers. Her most precious posession is a magical golden bauble that lights up when she wishes it to do so. She displays her magical abilities early on in the series by reading some of the ancient writing on the legendary sword, Dyrnwyn, but is unfortunately not fluent in the language. She also has the power to cast some minor spells, although they are not entirely successful. Towards the middle of the series, Eilonwy ends up deciding not to follow the path to becoming a full enchantress, but she still retains the capacity for magic, and continues to carry her bauble.

How pretty she is!

Stay Afloat

2006-01-31T13:52:00.000-08:00

I am doing much better in my swimming class now. Another week of practice will put me in the league of swimmers.

I spent almost the whole day today writing my news story. I realized how hard it was to construct a good lead sentence, which consists of all the important information and provides a sharp angle for the entire story. I know I am not going to be a journalist. However, the discipline in being a journalist truly astounded me. Maybe some people are good at words and they have been reading newspapers through out their lives. But it is another story altogether in writing one.

My draft will go through intensive editting, according to Taline. That is okay. I will like my news story more after all.

Ice-skating & CNY

2006-01-28T11:32:00.001-08:00

That's Danielle, me, and Julia. We went to Frog Pond in Boston Common to ice-skate. I sucked because I have fallen down for numerous times. Julia wasn't good either; she could not walk in her skates on the ground. Danielle was better than both of us. But she used to ice-skate on every weekend when she was young. That excuses her. Haha, I am so nasty to my friends. No, just for the time being.

In the evening, Danielle, Penny, Julia, Ping, and I were all at the CNY celebration organized by BUCSSA. There, I met Liu Chang, a boy who is a freshman studying film just like me. Penny met him first and introduced him to me. Oh good Penny! I don't think I will meet another such guy again. I mean, it is film studies, and it is about Chinese students! How coincidental must it be to be so coincidental? OMG, I am losing my sense of speech now.

This lunar year started so greatly. I met Liu Chang, I am going to Lousiana for spring break. Both Julia and Jessica cordially invited me to their houses for spring break but it was because I would go to Lousiana that I polited declined their hostly offers. What else? I called Mdm Feng; she both encouraged me and warned me, which was so great.

At last, I have to make a commitment about my work. Seems to me that I am not working hard recently. Please catch up.

My Classes

2006-01-23T13:35:00.000-08:00

I started to like my Communication course although nothing about the course has changed. I still have to write a news story in a week's time. My professor still talks with an accent. The class is still and always quiet before Taline comes. I guess it has to do with the nature of communication writing and Taline as an experienced professor who loves verse. She knows how to get her point across our minds; and she always has excellent content.

As for my history course, I have not liked it more because of what Doctor Glick has to offer but because of our textbooks. I am reading ahead of the class and have so far enjoyed looking at how science and technology evolve over-time. I have a few questions in my head; they do not get asked in class but I will ask Doctor Glick anyway, if not during his office hours, through email. I will also try to find out the answer by myself first. Dumb questions, hmmm, always a problem.

I am really not enjoying my anthropology course right now. The professor has difficulty getting straight to the point when he lectures. He goes round and round, using plenty of adjectives and phrases for desprition, yet falls weak when he gives the point. Is it that there really isn't much stuff in anthropology or is it just that he has little or he knows little about how to offer?

I still like my writing course with Christina. I finally started to answer her questions in class and started to feel a sense of being involved in class. May it becomes better!

Kathryn's boyfriend is going to live in Boston for the next few months. What a happy couple!

I am going to work tonight from 730 to 1130. Meeting Angela and a few other yet-unknown people.

Housing for the spring break. Or travelling?

Chinese new year, going to the celebration.

Summer?

Just let those things hang leisurely in my mind so when I have time I can think about them.

While Waiting

2006-01-19T17:19:00.000-08:00

While waiting for my printing job to come out, I would like to say something about my life recently.

Courses. I still like my Writing course. The amout of writing assignments seems to stay the same. Communication Writing: what a pain! It means a lot of writing and revising. I doubt if I will ever develop my own style because of all the grammar precautions that I must take note while writing. Anthropology: I don't think I know enough to start this course with a sizzling enthusiasm. History: I have such a boring professor. He mumbles to himself during class. But he is an email person. As he mentioned in his first class, he likes writing emails. Maybe I will write him one after I have done the reading. Swimming: I almost drowned today but I was fine. The second most enjoyable class of all.

I started working at the Late Night Cafe last night. Now, I work for 16 hours a week (8hrs weekends & 8hrs weekdays) and study for only 15 hours. What a match! I like my job so far because I can make some money out of it. The money can be used for my spring trip. To where? I really hope it is Lousiana.

Bob, Whitney, and Trutty were my partners last night. A gay, a lesbian and an unknown. I know it is very rude to say it this way but since they are very open about it, I am not going to put it in a "nice" way. Angela is our boss. Angela only slept for 3 hours for the past two days. She has two jobs. She is lenient, light-hearted, easy-going; but she always thought she and her little workers would scare me away. They looked funny and weird sometimes but I am okay with them. Angela told me Mike is such a strange person, silly, foolish, retarded, etc. Oh, what am I supposed to respond? "He took of his shirt in front of me and showed me his tatoo on his upper body. I asked him what it meant and he told me he did not know!" I am not surprised Mike did that.

Bob is a good dancer. He promised to teach me sometimes. But I doubt if I really want to learn dirty dance. "Dirty" is the word Brian used. How is Brian? I guess I will never see him again.

New Semester

2006-01-17T07:55:00.000-08:00

My new semester started. Somehow I feel like I am reading a new book. The pages are crisp and clean; they smell of the original smell they have, not mixed with the later affected smell.

Yesterday's evening was fun. Julia, Jessica, Danielle and I plyed a board game. I won. Yesterday afternoon I helped Penny to settle down. Frigging cold wind when we were moving her boxes into her dorm. She got a new phone with a new number. My plan will be upgraded in a day or two.

Sarah gave me a pair of chopsticks and a wallet as the new year gifts. I like them. She told me about the trip to Louisiana during this spring break. It will only costs me $50 for lodging, food, and transportation for a total of 8 days. If I can get a position, I will like to go there and help the people struck by Hurricane Katrina. But the space is extrememly limited. Good luck!

Summing It All Up

2006-01-13T20:57:00.000-08:00

It is time to get myself adjusted to the new time table which will start next Monday; yet I dread to leave my thoughts unattended tonight just because it is getting late. I will finish this blog entry before I will be contented to sleep on my soft lovely bed.

I have finally finished reading Guests of the Sheik by Elizabeth Warnock Fernea. It is a story of her two-years' stay in a village of El Nahra in southern Iraq. I always knew there is an ending because Fernea and her husband are Americans and they would eventually return to America. However, just seeing how much time she had spent with the Iraqi women had changed her makes me want so much just not to read to the end of the story. I definitely will have things to say in my Anthropology class.

By the way, I am not one of those who shock at the sight of other people's other ways of living. I know if people live in a certain way, they are comfortable living in that way despite what the general comfort may include unhappy things beneath the surface. I get nasty at people who try to use their language, tone, and expressions to express their reproach against other people's ways of living. I really do. (I refer to cultural differences here.)

Christy, Danielle, Ainsley and I spent this evening together. We had dinner together in my room, eating different kinds of food. We watched the first seven episodes of Fruits Basket and later Friends. I also showed them the pictures I have for 2005. It was a good review of the year for myself. Leo came and got his keys back. He drove from Toronto; it was a long journey. He looked better than he did before the winter break when he just broke up with his girlfriend.

Ready for school? Ready? If it does not rain tomorrow, I will take Danielle to USS Constitution Museum in Charlestown. If it rains, I will stay in, except I need to get some food downstair in City Convenience Store. Ready for school?

Oh, we had some discussions of our spring trip. Who are going? What are the destinations? Which routes do we choose?

My jobs. I have written emails to the offices I want to work; no answer from them. There are no open job positions in the library for the next semester; sad.

Ready for school? Ready for school? I don't know why I am so unsure now.

Brian left me his number and his email in case I need to ask him about the trips I will have in future. I will soon forget how he looks like; but I will remember, always, he is the average American guy. It is a good word here. I mean "average." Think about it again!

Name Game

2006-01-06T18:16:00.000-08:00

Haha, I have been thinking of an English name these days. Some ideas.

Your Outrageous Name is:

Betty Bangzer

Outrageous Name Generator

Your Japanese Name Is...

Mayuko Minase

What's your Japanese Name?

Your Irish Name Is...

Zoe McKenna

What's your Irish Name?

What Has Been Up?

2006-01-04T14:44:00.000-08:00

Some of my friends have already started school but I will be enjoying my holiday until next next Wednesday. Because Keeley still has not contacted me back, I am without any real work to do these days. She said she would like to hire me during the intersession period, I suppose what she meant was the winter break; however, the winter break is almost drawing to an end and I have not heard from her since her last email which was dated some two weeks ago. Someone believing in fate must say to me, "Tian, God wants you to just enjoy your winter break. No, no work!" I hope I could have taken that fact more peacefully in the beginning. But you know what? I was expecting I would work, and make money! I am really disappointed.

Besides some reading and watching Friends, I have been literally doing nothing at all. I am sorry, cooking is not left out of the list. I was extremely not ambitious last night. I just wanna time pass real fast so that I do not have to deal with my sleep.

Brian is back. I told him I am bored. Good to have him in the house now. I am no longer lonely, at least.

My TA in my Communication Writing class send the syllabus by email. It stressed me up because I am gonna write so much for this class next semester! But I am still not feeling a lot ambitious now. What's the problem with me? Just because of the work thing? Oh no, don't tell me so!

Guests of the Sheik is a good book to read by the way.

Counting Down....

2006-01-01T10:16:00.000-08:00

I spent the last day of 2005 with two groups of friends. The first group pissed me off at the end of our trip. The second group enjoyed the fireworks with me very much.

The first group consisted of Zhipeng and his friends. One of them was an A Star scholar, the person I never want to see again. He ate his own words. I dislike him a lot. If I could tell him face-to-face, I would say, "Stop tempting to impress me by telling me you sleep only 4 or 6 hours a day! For your information, I am not impressed at all! If you are so interested in telling me what you know about this and that, pick another one, I am not your right audience. For God's sake, don't interrupt me when I am speaking! I have not finished my sentence!" What manner?! I was their tour guide for the whole of yesterday. I showed them the freedom trail. They never treated me even a drink. I just cannot compare and contrast this group with the other groups who have come and gone. Stupid scholars! (By the way, while I am complaining about them. I see myself in them too. I must be one like them before. I must have made people dislike me too. I am so sorry.)

The other guy was fine. He made some attempts to join me and my friends after dinner for the fireworks. But Zhipeng and Ziqing just ignored him no matter how hard he begged Ziqing to come along. The reason Ziqing gave was the most ridiculous one: "I don't want to go back after 10PM." Stupid scholar!

Three of them dumped me in the T station after they left. What dudes! It was me who showed them the way back. None of the three knew the way back. Zhipeng never comes out of MIT by himself. The other two are from CalTech. MIT and CalTech, so what? I don't think they are any better than others I know.

The freedom trail was fine. I was cheerful while we were walking. I was the fun-seeking person when we were looking at the historical sites. Xu Xu and Yunting were with us for a while. I did not know who Yunting was before. Xu Xu just passed me the phone and asked me to persuade that girl to stay and watch the fireworks. Stupid Xu Xu! I got very impatient in the end. I wanted so much to yell at that girl: "If you wanna come, come! If not, disappear!" It was new year eve. I don't know what was happening in those scholars' minds. The streets were so pretty, the fireworks were wonderful, the parade was exceptional! Yet, they are more interested in going back on time and SLEEP! Stupid girls and boys!

My good mood was not spoilt despite all the things they have done to me. I went to Amy and Manda for the fireworks later on. It was at Boston Harbor. Cold. But exciting! It started without our knowing. But soon I got into the new year mood. People were shouting: Happy New Year! I was too. I was screaming with extreme delight and shouting "Happy New Year"! I was taking pictures of the fireworks too. Awesome! Magnificant! Wonderful! Spectacular! I made my New Year wish. It was a new year resolution rather. It is a secret.

I guess this is all I will put down for now. Happy new year! I want to become a different person in 2006. Not entirely different because I know what I can't discard. My strengths. My good habits. I will criticize. I will be daring, resilient, frank, etc. I will change.