Finally I made up my mind for a trip to N.Y. next week. Thanks to the coming roommate, I would not going anywhere if there is a shelter in Waltham. Well it is a complicated situation. I rent a room upstairs but the lady refused to move out until the end of August. Therefore I was relocated to this room downstairs vacant only for two weeks, after which a Russian girl will be moving in.
Anyway I should travel around before orientation starts. It may sound ironic but I did have a route earlier, starting from Boston, via N.Y., and then to Harrisburg. It only turned out that I was listening to the rain during nights, drawing sketches in the day, wandering around in the supermarket and cooking.
murmur----
I bought a second-handed coffee maker this afternoon with 7 bucks. And it operates well. And I finally bought some grounded coffee in an Italian grocery. It feels so good to run into a shop whose background music is opera instead of pop music.
P.S: I was infuriated by the new guy coming from D.C. with his words, "there is no decent food in china town here in Boston." And, "you guys don't recycle plastics here in Massachusetts?"
I don't know if they do or do not here in Waltham. I do know that we don't have the air conditioner running 24 hours a day, and leaving all the lights on in the kitchen like you. You are not the only one who appreciates Jazz and literature. Just don't behave like a proud and stupid cosmopolitan.
Friday, August 17, 2012
Thursday, August 16, 2012
Drunk
The other night I was reading a book on art history and praying in silence that I could get a good sleep with no nightmare. For some unexpressible reason I have been suffering from darknight ghosts.
I should have had a sound sleep, if my drunk roommate had stopped knocking on my door. I was too sleepy to find that he was different from his usual appearance. It was only until this morning that I felt something was weird.
Yeah he was standing in front of my door asking me if I was annoyed by their alcohol and noise. I said I was absolutely fine with noise. (In fact I had several times slept over when hanging out with my colleagues in the bar.) And then he started to talk about how his sisters drove him mad with noises alike.
"Or do you want a drink?"
"No thanks. I just..." I just wanted sleep.
This morning when I was cooking my breakfast, there was a thought rushing into my mind. I stood in front of his room. And I really wanted to knock on the door until he wakes up...
I should have had a sound sleep, if my drunk roommate had stopped knocking on my door. I was too sleepy to find that he was different from his usual appearance. It was only until this morning that I felt something was weird.
Yeah he was standing in front of my door asking me if I was annoyed by their alcohol and noise. I said I was absolutely fine with noise. (In fact I had several times slept over when hanging out with my colleagues in the bar.) And then he started to talk about how his sisters drove him mad with noises alike.
"Or do you want a drink?"
"No thanks. I just..." I just wanted sleep.
This morning when I was cooking my breakfast, there was a thought rushing into my mind. I stood in front of his room. And I really wanted to knock on the door until he wakes up...
Sunday, August 12, 2012
Delectable
Delectable, that is a really misleading word... I suppose I am not the only person misunderstanding it as deletable...
For the whole afternoon the internet radion I listened to was presenting a conversation on how once upon a time the white turned against Asian-American communities and how that hostility was still justifiable. The invited speaker, a UMass Boston researcher in Asian American studies, was apparently well equipped to finding excuses for all set of practices in the great nation's history with her contested memory. To be honest, I would never be delighted to be participating such ridiculous and low-performing researches. It would be more inspiring to launch or partner with natural science initiatives. I of course have respect for historical and ethnical studies, but this very research was making neither academic contribution nor moral reflection. Personally I would say this research was no more than wrestling with the unexpressible dignity of its people, who consider themselves as a community bridging the gap with all other alien species.
Anyway it doesn't seem like research institutes are going to slow down or terminate such meaningless projects, as long as they could have incredibly stable fundings. And perhaps some of my undergraduate peers will continue to be affiliates with these groups trying to provide some narrow pathways to academic success for young scholars.
I have got such situation as well before I was kicked out from the waiting list of UPenn anthropology. It was a pity at that moment. But there then was a day when I came to realize, that how this program would lead me unto a path far away from my childhood dream.
I might just want to live a delectable life.
For the whole afternoon the internet radion I listened to was presenting a conversation on how once upon a time the white turned against Asian-American communities and how that hostility was still justifiable. The invited speaker, a UMass Boston researcher in Asian American studies, was apparently well equipped to finding excuses for all set of practices in the great nation's history with her contested memory. To be honest, I would never be delighted to be participating such ridiculous and low-performing researches. It would be more inspiring to launch or partner with natural science initiatives. I of course have respect for historical and ethnical studies, but this very research was making neither academic contribution nor moral reflection. Personally I would say this research was no more than wrestling with the unexpressible dignity of its people, who consider themselves as a community bridging the gap with all other alien species.
Anyway it doesn't seem like research institutes are going to slow down or terminate such meaningless projects, as long as they could have incredibly stable fundings. And perhaps some of my undergraduate peers will continue to be affiliates with these groups trying to provide some narrow pathways to academic success for young scholars.
I have got such situation as well before I was kicked out from the waiting list of UPenn anthropology. It was a pity at that moment. But there then was a day when I came to realize, that how this program would lead me unto a path far away from my childhood dream.
I might just want to live a delectable life.
Saturday, August 11, 2012
What's his name
"Who are u visiting? I live here and might know his name."
"Ohh... I forgot his name."
That's what happened after almost three-hour public transportation from Waltham to Brigton to fetch my eyeglass which I left behind.
"Ahh... He is a Chinese guy."
"Tian?"
"His surname? It could be..."
"OK. I think I have got his number. Let's call him."
Thank god I did not come over such a long way to see nobody and then go like a whisper, which had terrified me the most when she made the call.
Anyway, it is weird that I could not recall someone's name after a whole night's conversation. Possibly it is because I was under a great deal of stress that night when hearing the flight delay. But should not memories have more clarity on emergency?
For the past month I have been trying to cram years of vogue recollections about my childhood dream into my head. I was pushing myself so hard that nightmares have started. Those fantastic visions which haunt me in darkness might be neither dreams nor memories as I had surmised, rather they are warnings of things that I have been trying to deny.
"Ohh... I forgot his name."
That's what happened after almost three-hour public transportation from Waltham to Brigton to fetch my eyeglass which I left behind.
"Ahh... He is a Chinese guy."
"Tian?"
"His surname? It could be..."
"OK. I think I have got his number. Let's call him."
Thank god I did not come over such a long way to see nobody and then go like a whisper, which had terrified me the most when she made the call.
Anyway, it is weird that I could not recall someone's name after a whole night's conversation. Possibly it is because I was under a great deal of stress that night when hearing the flight delay. But should not memories have more clarity on emergency?
For the past month I have been trying to cram years of vogue recollections about my childhood dream into my head. I was pushing myself so hard that nightmares have started. Those fantastic visions which haunt me in darkness might be neither dreams nor memories as I had surmised, rather they are warnings of things that I have been trying to deny.
Friday, August 10, 2012
Aug 12, Rainy
The day I went to the bank for a new account was sunny. I asked the manager if that was the archetypical Boston cuz I could no longer stand the face-burning sunshine. His comforting answer that soon rain will fall down finally came true this afternoon.
It did not rain until I walked out of the mart with Jewish rye bread and two avocadoes. Last week I was cramed with cranberry jelly and toasts and this week I gotta try something different. Sadly till this moment I have no idea what I should do with it tomorrow.
The other day Karen surprised me that she was taught on high scholl history classes that Chinese is literally the smartest, while the nickel-saving Jewish are simply Jews. She was astonished at the popularity of KFC and Burger King in China. She knew so little about China that I started to wonder what they were taught indeed. With no offense, education has always been serving the dominating ideology, or rather common sense. I am just getting confused about things they care about.
Unlike here in America, on rare occasions in China will we have eye contacts with strangers. Frequent eye-contact makes me nervous.
some professor, whose name is not important let's just name him Randy, said, t's pretty easy to be smart when peering smart people. What if the sparkles of their smartness belong to different categories?
I asked mother if she could recollect my childhooh memory. She said that I did want to be a grocery keeper selling pudding and jelly before I turned six -- so that I could eat as many as I want. That was kind of the coolest dream I've ever had. It started at a concrete realization that I could do this And now this childhood dream should be checked.
It did not rain until I walked out of the mart with Jewish rye bread and two avocadoes. Last week I was cramed with cranberry jelly and toasts and this week I gotta try something different. Sadly till this moment I have no idea what I should do with it tomorrow.
The other day Karen surprised me that she was taught on high scholl history classes that Chinese is literally the smartest, while the nickel-saving Jewish are simply Jews. She was astonished at the popularity of KFC and Burger King in China. She knew so little about China that I started to wonder what they were taught indeed. With no offense, education has always been serving the dominating ideology, or rather common sense. I am just getting confused about things they care about.
Unlike here in America, on rare occasions in China will we have eye contacts with strangers. Frequent eye-contact makes me nervous.
some professor, whose name is not important let's just name him Randy, said, t's pretty easy to be smart when peering smart people. What if the sparkles of their smartness belong to different categories?
I asked mother if she could recollect my childhooh memory. She said that I did want to be a grocery keeper selling pudding and jelly before I turned six -- so that I could eat as many as I want. That was kind of the coolest dream I've ever had. It started at a concrete realization that I could do this And now this childhood dream should be checked.
Thursday, August 9, 2012
Freaking out
I am eating less while gaining weight. That's freaking me out. The day before yesterday I had just toasts with jelly. Yesterday I had one serve of sandwich with alvocado. This morning I had the brunch of sandwich with alvocado and cheddar cheese, and two cups of original almond milk and one more cup of milk. That's all for one day. Oh by the way I had a cup of homemade corn soup.
What the hell did I eat? I just had not found my sneakers and could not go for running...
Daily Blah--
Finally I got a clear vision of Kevin's facial structure tonight. Still it is weird that I cannot recollect the structure of A to whom I say see ya every morning.
What the hell did I eat? I just had not found my sneakers and could not go for running...
Daily Blah--
Finally I got a clear vision of Kevin's facial structure tonight. Still it is weird that I cannot recollect the structure of A to whom I say see ya every morning.
Wednesday, August 8, 2012
flood of tiredness
Aug.7
Though I was unable to ward off the flood of tiredness after two-hour walking round-trip between the campus and the house, the daily trip was not that boring. For one thing, no longer do I have to travel in the featureless background of Beijing. And I do love those wooden porches of every house that I walk by. They are the best distinct of this region.
The other day A and me, the two of us were standing in the backyard, drinking arizona inced tea from the pharmacy and absorbed in sporadic but amicable conversations like the breeze of night. During our brief conversation, I had found myself liking and trusting him. He's a man-child and that's why I spoke about him fondly. Nevertheless, knowing him bothers me as well. I could have put it more precisely that I wanted the room now I am staying in not the one upstairs though it is way more expensive. It's so cozy.
There are moments when the recollection of someone unexpected gets sparked, like the wizard. There was a day when we sat beside the West Lake and he swore to me that he had once seen the ghost of a little girl on a ceremony, a vision, he claimed, glimpsed only briefly, but with absolute clarity, of the little girl standing beside the door, watching her alive parents standing in silent solidarity on her funeral and nodded greetings at each other, not recognizing most of them.
Murmur--------------------
Each flight is just an curiously unsocial gathering. Few of the passengers seem to know each other while deep inside their curiosity of the neighbors could be sensed. For some reason inexpressibly, these strangers will be touched by some slight mercy, say a seize by arm of the passenger beside when the turbulence suddenly stroke your place, unless they are stone-heated alien beings.
Speaking of that, I am learning to be a friendly alien from the Mars. I had unfortunately inherited my father's featureless look, but nonetheless something of mother's bearings, her shyness and hesitancy, while my sisters and brothers seem far more grounded and confident. I am ill on such occasions as social gathering banquets. And my voice, on the rare occasions when I speak to some guy I adore, will be inaudibly gentle.
Growing up in a nation under horrible political regime, smiling doubtfully.is becoming a morbid common sense. Not to mention something like compliments. That's nineteen seventies vintage as unreadable as those melancholy paintings.
Though I was unable to ward off the flood of tiredness after two-hour walking round-trip between the campus and the house, the daily trip was not that boring. For one thing, no longer do I have to travel in the featureless background of Beijing. And I do love those wooden porches of every house that I walk by. They are the best distinct of this region.
The other day A and me, the two of us were standing in the backyard, drinking arizona inced tea from the pharmacy and absorbed in sporadic but amicable conversations like the breeze of night. During our brief conversation, I had found myself liking and trusting him. He's a man-child and that's why I spoke about him fondly. Nevertheless, knowing him bothers me as well. I could have put it more precisely that I wanted the room now I am staying in not the one upstairs though it is way more expensive. It's so cozy.
There are moments when the recollection of someone unexpected gets sparked, like the wizard. There was a day when we sat beside the West Lake and he swore to me that he had once seen the ghost of a little girl on a ceremony, a vision, he claimed, glimpsed only briefly, but with absolute clarity, of the little girl standing beside the door, watching her alive parents standing in silent solidarity on her funeral and nodded greetings at each other, not recognizing most of them.
Murmur--------------------
Each flight is just an curiously unsocial gathering. Few of the passengers seem to know each other while deep inside their curiosity of the neighbors could be sensed. For some reason inexpressibly, these strangers will be touched by some slight mercy, say a seize by arm of the passenger beside when the turbulence suddenly stroke your place, unless they are stone-heated alien beings.
Speaking of that, I am learning to be a friendly alien from the Mars. I had unfortunately inherited my father's featureless look, but nonetheless something of mother's bearings, her shyness and hesitancy, while my sisters and brothers seem far more grounded and confident. I am ill on such occasions as social gathering banquets. And my voice, on the rare occasions when I speak to some guy I adore, will be inaudibly gentle.
Growing up in a nation under horrible political regime, smiling doubtfully.is becoming a morbid common sense. Not to mention something like compliments. That's nineteen seventies vintage as unreadable as those melancholy paintings.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)