I think the 'best thing' so far, my roommate left with me, is a small, really small mp3 player.She was too lazy to pack it with her luggage and therefore I owned it just for this summer. Mine was long deceased, after I made a decision to reformat the hard disk. Guess some internal driver programme was destroyed during the reformatting process.
The morning started with Salyu's 風に乗る船, like fresh wind blowing in the face, and later Karen Mok, Norah Jones. It was the same funny playing list during my 20 minutes walk to the lab. By the time I reached the middle of campus, it was always SNoW's song 'Yes', singing "It snows somewhere else but never this part of the world." and by the time I hit the front door of Best building, I had to pause somewhere in Love Psychedelico's 裸の王様.
Beep! (work started)
"Hi"s and 'Good mornings" to everyone who's already started work in the lab. It was a friendly and joyous environment and the prof's seldom around. When he speaks to you, he's always high, happy, and excited. When you speak to him, he always frowns and looks troubled. Funny old man, who has a distinctive walking posture I wouldn't really elaborate.
Sherry lamented. "Say on a winter evening, 9 o'clock alone in the lab. You're waiting for the gel to run, while outside it snows, and ah..."
"How pathetic." I finished it off for her. We laughed and I left for my physiology class, hoping I wouldn't doze off again.
Eight o'clock. Class ended. I walked back home, still skeptical about the theory that 'Women who have high level of hormones are prettier.' Then Norah Jones' "Come away with me" started to play. How intoxicating. At the end of a long,tiring but blissful day.
Thursday, May 25, 2006
Tuesday, May 23, 2006
The Beginning
Tired. Dozed off a bit during physiology, while the lecturer was explaining central nervous system. Saw a funny slide popping up. It was a game, he said, and the game was called 'finding the red dot'. I should've known better it's a typical 'look close until something jumps at you' kind of game. The red dot we were trying to find got smaller and smaller, until 'Clicky!' Some girls screamed. I was forced awake, for 5 seconds. It was a ghostly rotting face which should make guest appearance in 'Silent Hills' instead of a physiology lecture proper. The lecturer apologized, saying it was a demonstration of authoratative reflex. For example, jumping, sweating, screaming. Lame man. Lame.
Atropine, a toxin from nightshade, traced its history of misuse back to Renaissance, Italy. Dumb women dipped atropine into their eyes to create a 'Doe-eyed beauty' effect, aka. massive pupil dilation that makes them look dumb and makes men go 'Oh, lovely harmless birdies!'. You know what happens when your pupils dilate? You can't tell an apple from a pair. And sure you can't tell an ugly 80 year old faggot from another frivolous youth. Ah, women women...
Lab work starts tomorrow. The beginning of a long journey zhu!
Atropine, a toxin from nightshade, traced its history of misuse back to Renaissance, Italy. Dumb women dipped atropine into their eyes to create a 'Doe-eyed beauty' effect, aka. massive pupil dilation that makes them look dumb and makes men go 'Oh, lovely harmless birdies!'. You know what happens when your pupils dilate? You can't tell an apple from a pair. And sure you can't tell an ugly 80 year old faggot from another frivolous youth. Ah, women women...
Lab work starts tomorrow. The beginning of a long journey zhu!
Tears in heaven
No I'm not doing a music review... The song played a while ago, while I was reading mind boggling stuff on Microfluidics. I was distracted by his sorrowful voice. It's a song dedicated to his dead son. "I don't belong, here in heaven."
Once a friend remarked, everybody thinks 'Tears in heaven' is Clapton's true style, while in fact it isn't. It just happens to be an overly applauded song. He's rock and blues to the soul. I don't care much about the technical correctness in categorisation. This's one song that etches Clapton in my memory. O if you happen to watch him playing live, pay attention to his feet while he sits down drumming his guitar. Every two beats or so, his left foot would jerk outward in an almost spasmodic reflex. I just can't help laughing about it.
Mundane daily happenings: Bought a hand broom (finally! bravo zhu!), relunctanly got down on my knees and cleaned the dust speckled floor. Recently (after a short trial and error period), I love lugging my laptop to bed, reading stuff off the net while music plays in the background. Ah, my cosy lifestyle. I'm waiting for a biochemistry prof to reply my email but it seems he's a bit 'stone age' and is 'reputed' to be slow in responding emails. That puts me in an awkard situation because there's an informal interview tomorrow with an engineering prof who's just about to start a project on a frontier technology called 'Microfluidics'. Despite how interesting the jargon sounds, I still wish I could develop some solid skills in biochemistry lab. I'm going to call Mr. Stone Age tomorrow morning and if he's not around or if he says no, I'm going for biotech frontier. Just bloody reply me!
Monday, May 22, 2006
King of the Road
King of the Road
- as used in Brokeback Mountain
Trailers for sale or rent
Rooms to let...fifty cents.
No phone, no pool, no pets
I ain’t got no cigarettes
Ah, but..two hours of pushin’ broom
Buys an eight by twelve four-bit room
I’m a man of means by no means
King of the road.
Third boxcar, midnight train
Destination...bangor, maine.
Old worn out suit and shoes,
I don’t pay no union dues,
I smoke old stogies I have found
Short, but not too big around
I’m a man of means by no means
King of the road.
I know every engineer on every train
All of their children, and all of their names
And every handout in every town
And every lock that ain’t locked
When no one’s around.
I sing,
Trailers for sale or rent
Rooms to let, fifty cents
No phone, no pool, no pets
I ain’t got no cigarettes
Ah, but, two hours of pushin’ broom
Buys an eight by twelve four-bit room
I’m a man of means by no means
King of the road.
Friday, May 19, 2006
Summer Agenda
It's already mid May but the weather's strangely cold and damp. I sometimes wake up to cold chills early in the morning. Thought it's summer???
22 years, looking back and projecting forward.
I tried to think what's the last time I tried really hard for anything. I worked really hard during the first two years in Singapore but I didn't know exactly why I worked that hard. It's more because of peer pressure and lack of better distractions that powered a studying machine to short term success I guess. I wasn't particularly smart to start with, although my results spoke otherwise and underservingly, I gave my friends an impression I was very rational and level headed, and unapproachable? I haven't given much thought to that. I'm conscious of the reasons I handle academics better than my peers at that time. The major reason is English. It's been my strong spot since junior high school coz my dad (due to his past regrets of not being able to learn the language properly and he assumed we could've emigrated to the States if his 2nd language was English instead of Japanese...). I, of course, became the new hope of his lost youth and dreams. I had several private tutors when I was a primary student and despite the lack of enthusiasm, mechanical training still took effect and I had a firm grasp of grammar although was shy at speaking. I still remember how I quarrelled with my dad, which ended up in a bloody family conflict eventually... I hated memorising dialogues and texts coz I thought it was useless if I couldn't understand the logics of how sentences were put together, and therefore I 'went on a strike' and made it clear I 'despised rote learning'. My dad wasn't without reasons, considering how humans naturally learn langauges, by copying and reproducing. Ask any native speaker and they wouldn't bother with grammar or phonetics. Language is 2nd nature to them because they started as copycats, and that's exactly what my dad was hitting at. Nevertheless, after getting hard slaps on my face, I went back to routine lessons. It wasn't something I took initiative in. It wasn't something I wanted of my own accord. I'd say it's a hard earned gift, all thanks to my dad. It started coz of you, but I'm glad it comes around enriching my life in more ways than I could imagine.
Back to Singapore. For 'FOBs' like us (short for 'Fresh Off the Boat'), quoted here specifically referring to that batch of mainland scholars who had to rewind themselves from a Chinese teaching environment to a strange English medium (I say strange, because average Singaproeans have horribly accented accents and I'm not exaggerating), ask anyone and they'd tell you the adaptation is a long hard voyage. The problem lies in lack of language proficiency, not a gap in learning capability. I don't mean to be condescending or trying to appear superior but the fact is, we all have solid foundations and on average, are way better students or else the government wouldn't have sponsored us in the first place. I don't match up to this group of elites in terms of 'ability' but regarding 'performance', I got around pretty well because the 'adaptation' for me, was only a short transient period. It's only in retrospect that I saw where these credits should go to, while at that time, everybody around me thought I was some top-notch star student. My dad even kept that piece of newspaper with my perfect O level score on it. It wasn't the least bit rewarding and exciting, except a few numb moments head in a cloud of laughable vanity. I'd trade all the buzz for clear eyes and a stern resolution but you wouldn't know that, would you? I never quite knew anything. I sound like Mr. Bean. "He knows no fear. He knows no danger. He knows nothing." I'm always a hopeless far off case.
Junior High School, two years of freedom, or abandon. No more headless endless studying, but nonetheless aimeless. I met Jady. I met ET. I met Gang, and politician Hu - my best rewards among a lost sea called 'back then'. Self restraint was slowly giving way to degradative youth rebellion and an awakening sense of individuality. I remember what I said in that orientation class, aka. 'meet each other and introduce yourself'. 'I choose triple science (our faculty's name, triple =biology, physics, chemistry) because I love biology and that's why I'm here.' My parents persuaded me to consider economics but I brushed off the option in a blink of an eye. Biology it will be, without discussion. I wouldn't want a life without biology but why? Another classmate said 'I'm here because I don't know what exactly what I want to do.' Bingo! That's what I would've said now but again, I'm always a slow motion case. It's like a blind illusion that makes you believe you're focused, motivated and energised while in fact you're just obstinately digging your own tunnel, hoping it leads to neverland or maybe just another grave you're unaware of. Myopia. I didn't try too hard for anything because I'm poisoned by lethargy, and overjoyed by a laid back life that circled around "hanging out with friends, visiting CD and book stores, trying out new cuisines in our favourite restaurants." That's why when I thought back, a big chunk of that memory fed back as 'Kinokuniya, HMV, Sushi Buffet, Orchard Road, Swensons...'. A whole big chunk of junk luxurious life. But to call it 'totally wasted' is equal to condemning my own worth of living, and of course JC life was much more than consumer experience. I promised to draw a manga series on what happened in those two years (I wonder if Gang and our singleton club president still remember...), I never went past three pages. They were still lying in a dusty folder in my room, if only I could find them. Still, the questions lingers. Did you achieve anything? What's your standing in life? Each one of us had a short pep talk with our civics tutor, who's a bubbly, warm-hearted cute lady. I told her 'I always knew I wanted to be a doctor'. I wonder where the hell that came from? Probably watched too much ER and charity shows. And she said 'Well, not everybody knows what they want in life.' Very interesting, I gasped and said 'What? They don't?' I'd like to give the 18 year old version of myself a hard knock on the head and remind me to mop that dumbstruck expression off the face. That's as far as idiocracy goes. I'm a perpetual liar. I don't. I never knew what I wanted in life and even till now, I'm not quite sure. During those few months, inches away from the final exam, we had a preliminary mock test, which I flunked miserably because I didn't study much. My parents were worried sick of what kind of university would accept me. I was unhappy too, not because of whatever dumb ass university would want me, unhappy just because of the plain fact that I lost the game, no more than that.
The stupid Singapore ministry of education forced us to take both the British system of tests AND the American SAT, both required for local univeristy entrance and it turned out (after we paid and took SAT), the policy was reconsidered and SAT was no longer a requirement. Another dumb thing I followed was SAT subject test. First of all, I have no idea what university I should apply. Everyone around me was scrambling for States applications. Fine, so they want SAT subject scores. Now I think of it, SAT subject test was probably one of the rare things I spent my heart on, because I was pissed I wasted money on my first SAT test and I just wanted to make sure I'd make the money's worth for this one. The result was brilliant, like a pretty exquisite stain glass you bought for hundred dollars and all the while you're living in a mudbrick house. 'What? So what's the use I took the subject test if I'm not going to apply to US univ?' And why was I NOT applying to US uinv? Because my parents said, it was hard to get a visa and there were all sorts of problems to consider. Am I a dumb ass? Not the first time surely. For someone as aimless and lazy as me, one statement like that could alter the direction of the journey. While my friends applied for government scholarships and were on their way to future elite life, I drifted along, to the 2nd largest continent called Canada, to study another dumb ass subject called biochemsitry, which I thought was a natural continuation of my 'all time favourite'. What if your made-up belief crumbles and you realize there's no neverland after all? I never thought about that because I'm Miss Bean. Everything I do, is without purpose.
I remember the Cambridge intervew I had. Prof. Keerapura, the interviewer (a made-up name. He's Indian and I don't remember him), scanned through my personal statement and said 'Oh, you like poems. Could you recite me a poem?' I recited Robert Frost's 'Stopping by wood on a snowy evening', one of my favourites. I was nervous, but I managed to keep the intonation and rhythm right. He was obviously glad and I was starting to feel hope. Minutes later, "What happens to neurotransmitters if they're not broken down?" I was speechless and my reasoning capability was laughing at me from far far behind. "They are reabsorbed and retaken back into cells. " I felt stupid. I wasn't accepted, not really because of the unwilling display of stupidity during interview, but the written test I took later. I was never good at mathematical problems, which I attributed to a lack of training since primary school. My maths tutor used to assure me I had a natural talent even without training, a remark I drank in and got disposed through the guts. I always knew, because it's a fact that made me happy but so what? No action is taken and I remain a very lame , useless empty pouch. The expression on my dad's face, his forlorn, languor profile solidified into an erasable field of fences in my memory. I don't understand why he was so unhappy just because I was rejected by Cambridge. Maybe I should be more surprised at my own lack of reaction. I never wanted things bad enough to the extent of hurting. It's either 'game won' or 'lost'. No more consequences. I'm still a child who has mood swings over the loss of his possessions, without knowing the word 'value', or 'worth'.
During the gap year where we were on job hunts while waiting for offers, my friends and I rented a house together. I didn't go search for a job. It came to me through my dad's friend, who has contacts with a small optic enterprise. My life, up till then, was almost planned out too smoothly. My family belongs to the upper middle class and has extensive network within their circles. I could be rightfully categorised into worry-free spoilt young generation of the 80s although I've been consciously trying to avoid such conventional labels and prove that I'm not a useless delinquent. However, is there anything I truthfully achieved on my own without a hand from my family? Practically no under modern standard. If there IS anything I managed to do, it was for my own little pleasure and does not seem to better my future prospective in any way. The job lasted for 3 months before I finally called quits. There were objective circumstances: 4 hours of travelling back and forth, pressure from a steely looking female boss, long working hours and low pay. I wrote a long, emotional email (aka complaint letter) back home listing all the happenings that threw my happiness down the gutter. My parents replied, even though they didn't quite understand English, they were sure I had a talent for writing. What they didn't tell me, and which I should have figured out on my own, was I just etched a label on myself. Read that, 'loser', 'quitter'. I do regret it I told them. If I'd to turn back time, one of the things I'd have redone is never to quit the job no matter what. This is one of the worst parts of me I still have the power to redeem.
The evening before, David asked me whether I collected coins. 'No. But my dad collects coins. I always bring home the leftovers, cents, loonies and he picks them up.' 'While he gives you cash in rolls and bundles.' I was thrown offhand by the casual remark. It's more than a punch to my pride, which brims full glass compared to what's little left of my self worth, if it could be measured at all. I could've hit you for saying that , I thought. My fingers froze for a while but managed to type 'I can bring you some coins next time I go back home.' He intended no insult and truth always hurts. My university expenditure is skyrocketing, an omnipresent fact that adds on to my guilt. Sometimes I could hardly sort out the problems and the mere reminder of it just drags my heart down a hundred miles. This academic year is frankly, purely, undoubtedly, fucked up. I thought I wouldn't use vulgar words but there're no better expression in place of it. I spent more time on my own writing, designs and whatever than I care to count. You thought you would never put yourself in dangerous situation. You thought you wouldn't go downhill. You thought just with your mere intelligence, you could go around it without hard efforts. It could happen and it happened. I've never hit grade C before in any major exam and now I have two hanging there in my record. I saw a joke I told, now it's laughing back at me. The past three months was the worst part of my life. I wonder where my self discipline went, or is it just another rebellious period that came a bit too late and too unecessarily? These days I remind myself failure makes a person stronger. To be able to rise from one's own failure is a major step forward. Summer is still filled with hope. Strangely after the big gravitational fall in my life, I feel truly freed and focused. And thanks to my parents. I can't tell you how thankful I am for having such understanding and open-minded parents. Although I am still not sure what I want to do in the future, at least I know why I'm doing the things I'm doing now and it will surely lead somewhere this time. Amid all the emptiness and nonexistence which constitues a major part of my lackadaisy mentality, I do know what I'm good at, and that's all the confidence I need. Before I make any blunt and weak statements such as 'I've lost all interest in science' or any extreme assertion like 'no biology no life', I should give my 100% in exchange for any justified reply, and that's the major agenda in summer. Tomorrow's another day, not just any other day.
22 years, looking back and projecting forward.
I tried to think what's the last time I tried really hard for anything. I worked really hard during the first two years in Singapore but I didn't know exactly why I worked that hard. It's more because of peer pressure and lack of better distractions that powered a studying machine to short term success I guess. I wasn't particularly smart to start with, although my results spoke otherwise and underservingly, I gave my friends an impression I was very rational and level headed, and unapproachable? I haven't given much thought to that. I'm conscious of the reasons I handle academics better than my peers at that time. The major reason is English. It's been my strong spot since junior high school coz my dad (due to his past regrets of not being able to learn the language properly and he assumed we could've emigrated to the States if his 2nd language was English instead of Japanese...). I, of course, became the new hope of his lost youth and dreams. I had several private tutors when I was a primary student and despite the lack of enthusiasm, mechanical training still took effect and I had a firm grasp of grammar although was shy at speaking. I still remember how I quarrelled with my dad, which ended up in a bloody family conflict eventually... I hated memorising dialogues and texts coz I thought it was useless if I couldn't understand the logics of how sentences were put together, and therefore I 'went on a strike' and made it clear I 'despised rote learning'. My dad wasn't without reasons, considering how humans naturally learn langauges, by copying and reproducing. Ask any native speaker and they wouldn't bother with grammar or phonetics. Language is 2nd nature to them because they started as copycats, and that's exactly what my dad was hitting at. Nevertheless, after getting hard slaps on my face, I went back to routine lessons. It wasn't something I took initiative in. It wasn't something I wanted of my own accord. I'd say it's a hard earned gift, all thanks to my dad. It started coz of you, but I'm glad it comes around enriching my life in more ways than I could imagine.
Back to Singapore. For 'FOBs' like us (short for 'Fresh Off the Boat'), quoted here specifically referring to that batch of mainland scholars who had to rewind themselves from a Chinese teaching environment to a strange English medium (I say strange, because average Singaproeans have horribly accented accents and I'm not exaggerating), ask anyone and they'd tell you the adaptation is a long hard voyage. The problem lies in lack of language proficiency, not a gap in learning capability. I don't mean to be condescending or trying to appear superior but the fact is, we all have solid foundations and on average, are way better students or else the government wouldn't have sponsored us in the first place. I don't match up to this group of elites in terms of 'ability' but regarding 'performance', I got around pretty well because the 'adaptation' for me, was only a short transient period. It's only in retrospect that I saw where these credits should go to, while at that time, everybody around me thought I was some top-notch star student. My dad even kept that piece of newspaper with my perfect O level score on it. It wasn't the least bit rewarding and exciting, except a few numb moments head in a cloud of laughable vanity. I'd trade all the buzz for clear eyes and a stern resolution but you wouldn't know that, would you? I never quite knew anything. I sound like Mr. Bean. "He knows no fear. He knows no danger. He knows nothing." I'm always a hopeless far off case.
Junior High School, two years of freedom, or abandon. No more headless endless studying, but nonetheless aimeless. I met Jady. I met ET. I met Gang, and politician Hu - my best rewards among a lost sea called 'back then'. Self restraint was slowly giving way to degradative youth rebellion and an awakening sense of individuality. I remember what I said in that orientation class, aka. 'meet each other and introduce yourself'. 'I choose triple science (our faculty's name, triple =biology, physics, chemistry) because I love biology and that's why I'm here.' My parents persuaded me to consider economics but I brushed off the option in a blink of an eye. Biology it will be, without discussion. I wouldn't want a life without biology but why? Another classmate said 'I'm here because I don't know what exactly what I want to do.' Bingo! That's what I would've said now but again, I'm always a slow motion case. It's like a blind illusion that makes you believe you're focused, motivated and energised while in fact you're just obstinately digging your own tunnel, hoping it leads to neverland or maybe just another grave you're unaware of. Myopia. I didn't try too hard for anything because I'm poisoned by lethargy, and overjoyed by a laid back life that circled around "hanging out with friends, visiting CD and book stores, trying out new cuisines in our favourite restaurants." That's why when I thought back, a big chunk of that memory fed back as 'Kinokuniya, HMV, Sushi Buffet, Orchard Road, Swensons...'. A whole big chunk of junk luxurious life. But to call it 'totally wasted' is equal to condemning my own worth of living, and of course JC life was much more than consumer experience. I promised to draw a manga series on what happened in those two years (I wonder if Gang and our singleton club president still remember...), I never went past three pages. They were still lying in a dusty folder in my room, if only I could find them. Still, the questions lingers. Did you achieve anything? What's your standing in life? Each one of us had a short pep talk with our civics tutor, who's a bubbly, warm-hearted cute lady. I told her 'I always knew I wanted to be a doctor'. I wonder where the hell that came from? Probably watched too much ER and charity shows. And she said 'Well, not everybody knows what they want in life.' Very interesting, I gasped and said 'What? They don't?' I'd like to give the 18 year old version of myself a hard knock on the head and remind me to mop that dumbstruck expression off the face. That's as far as idiocracy goes. I'm a perpetual liar. I don't. I never knew what I wanted in life and even till now, I'm not quite sure. During those few months, inches away from the final exam, we had a preliminary mock test, which I flunked miserably because I didn't study much. My parents were worried sick of what kind of university would accept me. I was unhappy too, not because of whatever dumb ass university would want me, unhappy just because of the plain fact that I lost the game, no more than that.
The stupid Singapore ministry of education forced us to take both the British system of tests AND the American SAT, both required for local univeristy entrance and it turned out (after we paid and took SAT), the policy was reconsidered and SAT was no longer a requirement. Another dumb thing I followed was SAT subject test. First of all, I have no idea what university I should apply. Everyone around me was scrambling for States applications. Fine, so they want SAT subject scores. Now I think of it, SAT subject test was probably one of the rare things I spent my heart on, because I was pissed I wasted money on my first SAT test and I just wanted to make sure I'd make the money's worth for this one. The result was brilliant, like a pretty exquisite stain glass you bought for hundred dollars and all the while you're living in a mudbrick house. 'What? So what's the use I took the subject test if I'm not going to apply to US univ?' And why was I NOT applying to US uinv? Because my parents said, it was hard to get a visa and there were all sorts of problems to consider. Am I a dumb ass? Not the first time surely. For someone as aimless and lazy as me, one statement like that could alter the direction of the journey. While my friends applied for government scholarships and were on their way to future elite life, I drifted along, to the 2nd largest continent called Canada, to study another dumb ass subject called biochemsitry, which I thought was a natural continuation of my 'all time favourite'. What if your made-up belief crumbles and you realize there's no neverland after all? I never thought about that because I'm Miss Bean. Everything I do, is without purpose.
I remember the Cambridge intervew I had. Prof. Keerapura, the interviewer (a made-up name. He's Indian and I don't remember him), scanned through my personal statement and said 'Oh, you like poems. Could you recite me a poem?' I recited Robert Frost's 'Stopping by wood on a snowy evening', one of my favourites. I was nervous, but I managed to keep the intonation and rhythm right. He was obviously glad and I was starting to feel hope. Minutes later, "What happens to neurotransmitters if they're not broken down?" I was speechless and my reasoning capability was laughing at me from far far behind. "They are reabsorbed and retaken back into cells. " I felt stupid. I wasn't accepted, not really because of the unwilling display of stupidity during interview, but the written test I took later. I was never good at mathematical problems, which I attributed to a lack of training since primary school. My maths tutor used to assure me I had a natural talent even without training, a remark I drank in and got disposed through the guts. I always knew, because it's a fact that made me happy but so what? No action is taken and I remain a very lame , useless empty pouch. The expression on my dad's face, his forlorn, languor profile solidified into an erasable field of fences in my memory. I don't understand why he was so unhappy just because I was rejected by Cambridge. Maybe I should be more surprised at my own lack of reaction. I never wanted things bad enough to the extent of hurting. It's either 'game won' or 'lost'. No more consequences. I'm still a child who has mood swings over the loss of his possessions, without knowing the word 'value', or 'worth'.
During the gap year where we were on job hunts while waiting for offers, my friends and I rented a house together. I didn't go search for a job. It came to me through my dad's friend, who has contacts with a small optic enterprise. My life, up till then, was almost planned out too smoothly. My family belongs to the upper middle class and has extensive network within their circles. I could be rightfully categorised into worry-free spoilt young generation of the 80s although I've been consciously trying to avoid such conventional labels and prove that I'm not a useless delinquent. However, is there anything I truthfully achieved on my own without a hand from my family? Practically no under modern standard. If there IS anything I managed to do, it was for my own little pleasure and does not seem to better my future prospective in any way. The job lasted for 3 months before I finally called quits. There were objective circumstances: 4 hours of travelling back and forth, pressure from a steely looking female boss, long working hours and low pay. I wrote a long, emotional email (aka complaint letter) back home listing all the happenings that threw my happiness down the gutter. My parents replied, even though they didn't quite understand English, they were sure I had a talent for writing. What they didn't tell me, and which I should have figured out on my own, was I just etched a label on myself. Read that, 'loser', 'quitter'. I do regret it I told them. If I'd to turn back time, one of the things I'd have redone is never to quit the job no matter what. This is one of the worst parts of me I still have the power to redeem.
The evening before, David asked me whether I collected coins. 'No. But my dad collects coins. I always bring home the leftovers, cents, loonies and he picks them up.' 'While he gives you cash in rolls and bundles.' I was thrown offhand by the casual remark. It's more than a punch to my pride, which brims full glass compared to what's little left of my self worth, if it could be measured at all. I could've hit you for saying that , I thought. My fingers froze for a while but managed to type 'I can bring you some coins next time I go back home.' He intended no insult and truth always hurts. My university expenditure is skyrocketing, an omnipresent fact that adds on to my guilt. Sometimes I could hardly sort out the problems and the mere reminder of it just drags my heart down a hundred miles. This academic year is frankly, purely, undoubtedly, fucked up. I thought I wouldn't use vulgar words but there're no better expression in place of it. I spent more time on my own writing, designs and whatever than I care to count. You thought you would never put yourself in dangerous situation. You thought you wouldn't go downhill. You thought just with your mere intelligence, you could go around it without hard efforts. It could happen and it happened. I've never hit grade C before in any major exam and now I have two hanging there in my record. I saw a joke I told, now it's laughing back at me. The past three months was the worst part of my life. I wonder where my self discipline went, or is it just another rebellious period that came a bit too late and too unecessarily? These days I remind myself failure makes a person stronger. To be able to rise from one's own failure is a major step forward. Summer is still filled with hope. Strangely after the big gravitational fall in my life, I feel truly freed and focused. And thanks to my parents. I can't tell you how thankful I am for having such understanding and open-minded parents. Although I am still not sure what I want to do in the future, at least I know why I'm doing the things I'm doing now and it will surely lead somewhere this time. Amid all the emptiness and nonexistence which constitues a major part of my lackadaisy mentality, I do know what I'm good at, and that's all the confidence I need. Before I make any blunt and weak statements such as 'I've lost all interest in science' or any extreme assertion like 'no biology no life', I should give my 100% in exchange for any justified reply, and that's the major agenda in summer. Tomorrow's another day, not just any other day.
Wednesday, May 17, 2006
Life in the fast lane
Life in the fast lane by Eagles, I love the guitar intro!
And Ferrero Rocher, how can you not love it?
And Ferrero Rocher, how can you not love it?
You are what you eat
First day of summer school, 3 hours of nutrition class, one hour break, then another 3 hours of physiology. Summer is best known for 'crash courses', like compressed biscuits. What could've been stretched out for 4 months is ruthlessly squeezed into half the duration. Various articles seem to suggest that the average concentration span of an adult is 20 minutes. How many '20 mintues' are there in a 3 hour lecture? My neurons can't just keep firing to keep my brain awake. I managed to stay attentive during nutrition class but failed miserably during the first half of physiology. The prof was going over the structure of plasma membrane for ??? see if I care to count the no. of times they go over that age old topic. Just get over it and keep going!
"You are what you eat." there's an equivalent saying in Chinese (not sure if there exist more international versions of this consensus). If you eat junk potato chips, you're gonna be a fatty couch potato with unsightly soft layers around the belly. The Chinese perception is more amusing. I was thinking over that as the lecturer expanded on couch potato syndrome. Say you eat pig skin, which might call for 'yaks' from Western consumers, but we Asians don't give a damn. Some of us somehow believe that will nourish our own skin. And if you eat walnuts, you'll be smarter coz the shape of walnuts resembles the surface of grey matter. That's our understanding of 'you are what you eat'. The nature (shape, structure) of food complements and improves the corresponding part on our own body. This isn't totally unreasonable as the basic building block of living organisms doesn't differ much. Pig skin has collagen, the stuff you might injest under eyebags to puff ur withered skin up and make it smoother.
Canadian government is ridiculously particular on food labelling. The size of that 'nutrition fact', a small patch of data sheet on every food package has to be the exact dimension, specified to milimeter, or else you poor law ignorant manufacturers can wait for them to give you a heavy fine and have all your products pulled off the shelf. That's just the way it works. There're also so called general and specific claims, which might go something like 'This product does not contain any fermentable carbohydrate which may cause dental caries.' Guess how many millions of dollars they dump into research just to get this claim approved?! This amount of money could've saved millions of starved children in underdeveloped country and nobody gives a damn whether the sugar will dirll holes in their teeth! Sometimes I do think the Westerners are hypochondriacs, calculating calorie intake, carbo content, fat percentage... Blame it on thy diet! In 3 weeks' time or so I'll be able to do a complete nutrition analysis on my own diet. How brilliant!
Was starting to worry (maybe unecessarily) about the future of 2D animation. The advent of computer modelling and this blooming 'paperless industry' is threatening to overthrow traditional cell drawings, which are almost if not all aborted by Western animators anyway. Read a short review on current softwares such as Wacom and Cintiq which allow animators to draw directly on digital screens using sensitive pens. The great leap in efficiency will eventually overide any sentimentality of old paper art. Guess my 2D complex isn't the crux of concern. Sure you can model your art back to 2D or create digital watercolour effects(as applied in the Ghibli feature film 'My neighbour the Yamadas') or even more varieties, crayons, sketches, graphites, papercuts, clays and everything else within the realm of software magic, it's the ideologies and cultural elements within animation productions that play major roles in fortressing audience loyalty. That's why I prefer Ghibli/Production I.G./Go Fish films to Disney, or say Pixar animation (Pixar's not bad actually) The formers can be serious art house movies while the latter is targeted more towards younger fun-loving children and the magic's just waned on me. Whatever the reason, I do hope more markets will open for new competitors, and really wish our own country can pick up the pace soon. The upcoming Ghibli film 'Gedo Senki' is near production's end. I'm interested to know whether it's a hit or flop. The impact will be major, not only financially.
I haven't written a proper blog for so long. Feels good!
"You are what you eat." there's an equivalent saying in Chinese (not sure if there exist more international versions of this consensus). If you eat junk potato chips, you're gonna be a fatty couch potato with unsightly soft layers around the belly. The Chinese perception is more amusing. I was thinking over that as the lecturer expanded on couch potato syndrome. Say you eat pig skin, which might call for 'yaks' from Western consumers, but we Asians don't give a damn. Some of us somehow believe that will nourish our own skin. And if you eat walnuts, you'll be smarter coz the shape of walnuts resembles the surface of grey matter. That's our understanding of 'you are what you eat'. The nature (shape, structure) of food complements and improves the corresponding part on our own body. This isn't totally unreasonable as the basic building block of living organisms doesn't differ much. Pig skin has collagen, the stuff you might injest under eyebags to puff ur withered skin up and make it smoother.
Canadian government is ridiculously particular on food labelling. The size of that 'nutrition fact', a small patch of data sheet on every food package has to be the exact dimension, specified to milimeter, or else you poor law ignorant manufacturers can wait for them to give you a heavy fine and have all your products pulled off the shelf. That's just the way it works. There're also so called general and specific claims, which might go something like 'This product does not contain any fermentable carbohydrate which may cause dental caries.' Guess how many millions of dollars they dump into research just to get this claim approved?! This amount of money could've saved millions of starved children in underdeveloped country and nobody gives a damn whether the sugar will dirll holes in their teeth! Sometimes I do think the Westerners are hypochondriacs, calculating calorie intake, carbo content, fat percentage... Blame it on thy diet! In 3 weeks' time or so I'll be able to do a complete nutrition analysis on my own diet. How brilliant!
Was starting to worry (maybe unecessarily) about the future of 2D animation. The advent of computer modelling and this blooming 'paperless industry' is threatening to overthrow traditional cell drawings, which are almost if not all aborted by Western animators anyway. Read a short review on current softwares such as Wacom and Cintiq which allow animators to draw directly on digital screens using sensitive pens. The great leap in efficiency will eventually overide any sentimentality of old paper art. Guess my 2D complex isn't the crux of concern. Sure you can model your art back to 2D or create digital watercolour effects(as applied in the Ghibli feature film 'My neighbour the Yamadas') or even more varieties, crayons, sketches, graphites, papercuts, clays and everything else within the realm of software magic, it's the ideologies and cultural elements within animation productions that play major roles in fortressing audience loyalty. That's why I prefer Ghibli/Production I.G./Go Fish films to Disney, or say Pixar animation (Pixar's not bad actually) The formers can be serious art house movies while the latter is targeted more towards younger fun-loving children and the magic's just waned on me. Whatever the reason, I do hope more markets will open for new competitors, and really wish our own country can pick up the pace soon. The upcoming Ghibli film 'Gedo Senki' is near production's end. I'm interested to know whether it's a hit or flop. The impact will be major, not only financially.
I haven't written a proper blog for so long. Feels good!
Tuesday, May 16, 2006
Thoughtful Shower
I had a little bit of brain rewiring during shower, and just when I was about to blog my thoughts, my dad nagged me to go bed on MSN, saying I have a nutrition class tomorrow and I'd better sleep early. We exchanged a few words on 'nutrition' and somehow the topic digressed to 'Your current biochemistry knowledge is even better than someone who has a Master degree in China.' I rebutted by saying "knowledge can be learnt without any difficulty as long as that someone has normal IQ but applying the knowledge and making connections is what distinguishes a banal learner from a discoverer or innovator." My own thought makes me depressed coz I'm not exactly good at that crucial application aspect of it. That short sweep of depression is like a fixation spray that wipes out the clear painting I drew in my mind during shower, and I am totally out of the mood for five minutes or so.
Ever since my jeans got ripped at the back pocket, or when the belt came off loose, I had a bad gut feeling about it. This is after all a mere excuse of how haywire my life went afterwards. It sure is dangerous to get lost when you're 3rd year into university but considering I skipped 1st year, time wasn't so kind to someone as slow as me.
Ah I'm so out of the writing mood. Tomorrow maybe.
Ever since my jeans got ripped at the back pocket, or when the belt came off loose, I had a bad gut feeling about it. This is after all a mere excuse of how haywire my life went afterwards. It sure is dangerous to get lost when you're 3rd year into university but considering I skipped 1st year, time wasn't so kind to someone as slow as me.
Ah I'm so out of the writing mood. Tomorrow maybe.
Monday, May 15, 2006
补序：许多爱情，只是一瞬
作者：逆旅
http://blog.sina.com.cn/u/1226441627
许诺了很长时间要把未名湖重新整理发表，算到今，离上一次信口开河的时侯又已经半个多月。其中当然也有一些客观的缘故，比如，天空阴沉，如今的游戏做得太吸引人，电脑死机，公务繁忙，等等，但终究还是要归根于我的天性——懒。
大概是于潜意识里对本我的反动，我笔下的主人公常是比我勤快的。陈可该说是一个很懒的人，懒怠于奋斗，懒怠于揣摩，懒怠于弥补，懒怠于应酬往来，懒怠于虚 予委蛇，懒怠于适应别人和充实自己的大多数行为。可是，起码他在读书上比我要勤快得多。我天生缺乏那种长期伏案的才能，又不喜欢按部就班，故而虽然看过的 书不少，但看完的书却不多。
于雷是一个积极得多的人。由于成长在官僚家庭中的缘故，于雷对于责任有着和陈可完全不同的理解。对他来说，取悦别人，帮助别人，领导别人是他的天赋的责 任；尤其是在受人之托的情况下，他会不惜任何代价去践诺，以忠人之事，这并不说明他的道德品质多么高尚，追根溯源，这大抵是他父母作为政治人物对个人形象 的维护在他性格中的投射而已。而这对于陈可是完全无法想象的。如果他在取悦或者帮助别人，那一定是他打内心里喜欢或者怜悯此人，对于他所不中意的人对他的 请托，只要能想到借口，他一定会推辞。陈可不需要在别人的注目和赞扬中活着，事实上，他极力地避免如此。
如果你问我对两个主人公的偏好，毫无疑问地，我更喜欢陈可。原因是我对于雷太熟悉了——在熟悉和陌生、常见与神秘之间，人总是偏向于后者——这也就是为什么一见钟情多有，而海枯石烂罕闻的原因。
陈可是那种活得很累的人。说实话，我亦不敢说我对他有百分之百的了解，但百分之八十是有的，因为我曾经有多年的时间和这样的一位某君相处，并且欣赏他的这 种气质。忧郁，对于陈可来说是自找的，但也是不可避免的，从表象上说他拥有的东西甚至较于雷为多：唾手可得的物质享受，光明灿烂的前途，疏朗俊秀的外表， 以及一点点的天才，很多的见识学问，都使他拥有了一个和他同样年纪的男人所希望拥有的一切。但这些东西终究是不能给他带来快乐的，享受这些资源，需要一个 人足够的自恋和虚荣，就比如近来在网上极红的某位仁兄（我并没有贬意），陈可是不具备这些的。
他也有虚荣。他享受他所喜欢的人被他问住的神情，也常像个孩子一样毫不掩饰地表现自己在见识上胜人一筹的洋洋得意，但那只是对那惟有的一个人才有的天真， 在大众面前，他情愿表现地像一个鲁钝的白痴。的确，他在吃穿用住上用度不菲，但那只是一种生活状态，只有妒忌的人才觉得那样是为了让人妒忌。但他依然苦 闷，有时这种苦闷有可以捉摸的来源，比如当他对自己和于雷的关系产生疑惑的时侯，比如当他对爱情的突然到来犹豫、懊恼的时侯，但更多的时候，忧郁根本不需 要明确的原因。活着，虽然在此时和彼时有着种种的快乐，但整体而言，终究是苦的。他的生活，从本质上接近于印度佛教对生活的理解。为了避免现世的苦闷，他 的手段是很容易想象的——躲到另一个世界中去。书对于他来说是最可靠的朋友。然而奇怪的是，尽管他对小说中描写的人情世故有着很好的理解力，但对于现实生 活中的那些却始终反应迟钝，他永远听不出弦外之音言外之意，也永远不懂得暗示和欲语还休的暧昧，或许是懒怠地不愿意去揣摩吧，也或许他根本就没有如此的天 分。
因此，于雷的出现对他而言是命运的。什么叫做知己？我对知己的理解，就是在关键的时候，不经任何提醒，可以和我说出同样的，那个最关键的词句，然后相对一 笑。人的思想是那样的迥异，每个人的词汇和用语的方式也大相径庭，可是偏偏地，和这个人总是能在一个时侯想到一个地方，那便是灵魂深处的默契和共鸣。陈可 和于雷之间的情形便是如此，永远不用担心话题用尽，会心的微笑常常浮现，无论看法和态度是一致还是南辕北辙，总有热烈的火花……这种感觉是多么奇妙啊。尤 其对于一个常不被人理解的人——当然，也是由于他没有给人理解的机会，那是尤为珍贵的。
我可以确定陈可对于雷的珍视，他是他“永远都想一起交谈一起喝酒一起玩耍的朋友”，我理解。但是，陈可到底是不是爱着于雷，他心里到底装没装着我所理解的 爱情，说实话，我也只有六分把握。我看到他像恋人一样露出甜蜜的微笑，碰触到他在夜里伸过来冰冷的小手，听见他在身下青涩的欢愉，但我时至今日也不能确定 那一切就是爱情。
陈可和于雷相遇了，了解了，爱上了，在一起了，一切都美满了。但我却始终憧憬着另一种风景，事实上，我一直欣赏着它。陈可也好，于雷也好，继续着各自的生 活，陈可的生活属于图书馆和寂寞的自习室，于雷的生活属于大讲堂和喧嚣的会议室，但他们是彼此这样重要的一部分，以至于他们会在谈论的时侯把对方挂在嘴 边，会在想到彼此的时候无意地一笑，会在无聊的时候发短信互相问候……
他们都对情人这样的调侃一笑置之，却无法掩饰心里莫名的喜悦；他们喜欢凑得近近地说些只能说给对方听的悄悄话，喜欢这些话，也喜欢说话时的感觉；他们时而在谈论得至为投机的时候，会突发互相拥抱的冲动，甚至，不惜一吻……
张望，回眸，对视，闪烁，沉默，交谈，争论，沉默，碰触，勾搭，拍打，抚摸。
就这样，他们的爱情就定格在了每一个瞬间，永远不会连贯，不能连贯，不得连贯。
许多爱情，只有一瞬，排斥奢求，禁绝渴望，连一丝幻想都将导致毁灭。
许多爱情，只有一瞬，一旦出现，立刻枯萎，从来没有茁壮成长的明天。
我自虐般地喜欢这样的爱情，就像我这样地喜欢未名湖，和关于她的一切。
http://blog.sina.com.cn/u/1226441627
许诺了很长时间要把未名湖重新整理发表，算到今，离上一次信口开河的时侯又已经半个多月。其中当然也有一些客观的缘故，比如，天空阴沉，如今的游戏做得太吸引人，电脑死机，公务繁忙，等等，但终究还是要归根于我的天性——懒。
大概是于潜意识里对本我的反动，我笔下的主人公常是比我勤快的。陈可该说是一个很懒的人，懒怠于奋斗，懒怠于揣摩，懒怠于弥补，懒怠于应酬往来，懒怠于虚 予委蛇，懒怠于适应别人和充实自己的大多数行为。可是，起码他在读书上比我要勤快得多。我天生缺乏那种长期伏案的才能，又不喜欢按部就班，故而虽然看过的 书不少，但看完的书却不多。
于雷是一个积极得多的人。由于成长在官僚家庭中的缘故，于雷对于责任有着和陈可完全不同的理解。对他来说，取悦别人，帮助别人，领导别人是他的天赋的责 任；尤其是在受人之托的情况下，他会不惜任何代价去践诺，以忠人之事，这并不说明他的道德品质多么高尚，追根溯源，这大抵是他父母作为政治人物对个人形象 的维护在他性格中的投射而已。而这对于陈可是完全无法想象的。如果他在取悦或者帮助别人，那一定是他打内心里喜欢或者怜悯此人，对于他所不中意的人对他的 请托，只要能想到借口，他一定会推辞。陈可不需要在别人的注目和赞扬中活着，事实上，他极力地避免如此。
如果你问我对两个主人公的偏好，毫无疑问地，我更喜欢陈可。原因是我对于雷太熟悉了——在熟悉和陌生、常见与神秘之间，人总是偏向于后者——这也就是为什么一见钟情多有，而海枯石烂罕闻的原因。
陈可是那种活得很累的人。说实话，我亦不敢说我对他有百分之百的了解，但百分之八十是有的，因为我曾经有多年的时间和这样的一位某君相处，并且欣赏他的这 种气质。忧郁，对于陈可来说是自找的，但也是不可避免的，从表象上说他拥有的东西甚至较于雷为多：唾手可得的物质享受，光明灿烂的前途，疏朗俊秀的外表， 以及一点点的天才，很多的见识学问，都使他拥有了一个和他同样年纪的男人所希望拥有的一切。但这些东西终究是不能给他带来快乐的，享受这些资源，需要一个 人足够的自恋和虚荣，就比如近来在网上极红的某位仁兄（我并没有贬意），陈可是不具备这些的。
他也有虚荣。他享受他所喜欢的人被他问住的神情，也常像个孩子一样毫不掩饰地表现自己在见识上胜人一筹的洋洋得意，但那只是对那惟有的一个人才有的天真， 在大众面前，他情愿表现地像一个鲁钝的白痴。的确，他在吃穿用住上用度不菲，但那只是一种生活状态，只有妒忌的人才觉得那样是为了让人妒忌。但他依然苦 闷，有时这种苦闷有可以捉摸的来源，比如当他对自己和于雷的关系产生疑惑的时侯，比如当他对爱情的突然到来犹豫、懊恼的时侯，但更多的时候，忧郁根本不需 要明确的原因。活着，虽然在此时和彼时有着种种的快乐，但整体而言，终究是苦的。他的生活，从本质上接近于印度佛教对生活的理解。为了避免现世的苦闷，他 的手段是很容易想象的——躲到另一个世界中去。书对于他来说是最可靠的朋友。然而奇怪的是，尽管他对小说中描写的人情世故有着很好的理解力，但对于现实生 活中的那些却始终反应迟钝，他永远听不出弦外之音言外之意，也永远不懂得暗示和欲语还休的暧昧，或许是懒怠地不愿意去揣摩吧，也或许他根本就没有如此的天 分。
因此，于雷的出现对他而言是命运的。什么叫做知己？我对知己的理解，就是在关键的时候，不经任何提醒，可以和我说出同样的，那个最关键的词句，然后相对一 笑。人的思想是那样的迥异，每个人的词汇和用语的方式也大相径庭，可是偏偏地，和这个人总是能在一个时侯想到一个地方，那便是灵魂深处的默契和共鸣。陈可 和于雷之间的情形便是如此，永远不用担心话题用尽，会心的微笑常常浮现，无论看法和态度是一致还是南辕北辙，总有热烈的火花……这种感觉是多么奇妙啊。尤 其对于一个常不被人理解的人——当然，也是由于他没有给人理解的机会，那是尤为珍贵的。
我可以确定陈可对于雷的珍视，他是他“永远都想一起交谈一起喝酒一起玩耍的朋友”，我理解。但是，陈可到底是不是爱着于雷，他心里到底装没装着我所理解的 爱情，说实话，我也只有六分把握。我看到他像恋人一样露出甜蜜的微笑，碰触到他在夜里伸过来冰冷的小手，听见他在身下青涩的欢愉，但我时至今日也不能确定 那一切就是爱情。
陈可和于雷相遇了，了解了，爱上了，在一起了，一切都美满了。但我却始终憧憬着另一种风景，事实上，我一直欣赏着它。陈可也好，于雷也好，继续着各自的生 活，陈可的生活属于图书馆和寂寞的自习室，于雷的生活属于大讲堂和喧嚣的会议室，但他们是彼此这样重要的一部分，以至于他们会在谈论的时侯把对方挂在嘴 边，会在想到彼此的时候无意地一笑，会在无聊的时候发短信互相问候……
他们都对情人这样的调侃一笑置之，却无法掩饰心里莫名的喜悦；他们喜欢凑得近近地说些只能说给对方听的悄悄话，喜欢这些话，也喜欢说话时的感觉；他们时而在谈论得至为投机的时候，会突发互相拥抱的冲动，甚至，不惜一吻……
张望，回眸，对视，闪烁，沉默，交谈，争论，沉默，碰触，勾搭，拍打，抚摸。
就这样，他们的爱情就定格在了每一个瞬间，永远不会连贯，不能连贯，不得连贯。
许多爱情，只有一瞬，排斥奢求，禁绝渴望，连一丝幻想都将导致毁灭。
许多爱情，只有一瞬，一旦出现，立刻枯萎，从来没有茁壮成长的明天。
我自虐般地喜欢这样的爱情，就像我这样地喜欢未名湖，和关于她的一切。
Sunday, May 14, 2006
5pm
What happened during the past few days can only be summarised as 'a perfect drama'. I realized I wasn't ready for a lot of things, things that are bound to happen. And summer, I'll make good use of you. If that's the reason I stayed, I'm not unhappy after all. The goal, is to go on a knowledge hunt, find my own worth, be a better human and be happy with myself, which's currently the hardest thing to fulfil. Things will come, slowly but eventually.
Monday, May 08, 2006
滥用成语
今天又碰上这帖笑话了，还是纪录一下，无聊的时候翻翻解闷。
今天是国庆日，因为英明伟大的政府建设国家、爱护百姓的功绩罄竹难书，所以放假一天，爸爸妈妈特地带我们到动物园玩。
按照惯例，我们早餐喜欢吃地瓜粥。今天因为地瓜卖完了，妈妈只好黔驴技穷地削些芋头来滥竽充数。没想到那些种在阳台的芋头很好吃，全家都贪得无厌地自食其果。
出门前，我那徐娘半老的妈妈打扮的花枝招展，鬼斧神工到一点也看不出是个糟糠之妻。头顶羽毛未丰的爸爸也赶紧洗心革面沐猴而冠，换上双管齐下的西装后英 俊得惨绝人寰，鸡飞狗跳到让人退避三舍。东施效颦爱漂亮的妹妹更是穿上调整型内衣愚公移山，画虎类犬地打扮的艳光四射，趾高气昂地穿上新买的高跟鞋。
我们一丘之貉坐着素车白马，很快地到了动物园，不料参观的人多到豺狼当道草木皆兵，害我们一家骨肉分离。妻离子散的爸爸鞠躬尽瘁地到 处广 播，终于找到到差点认贼作父的我和遇人不淑的妹妹，困兽之斗中，我们螳臂当车力排众议推己及人地挤到猴子栅栏前，鱼目混珠拍了张强颜欢笑的全家福。
接着到鸡鸣狗盗的鸟园欣赏风声鹤唳哀鸿遍野的大自然美妙音乐。后来爸爸口沫横飞地为我们指鹿为马时，吹来一阵凉风，唾面自干的滋味，让人毛骨悚然不寒而栗，妈妈连忙为爸爸黄袍加身，也叮嘱我们要克绍其裘。
到了傍晚，因为假日的关系，餐厅家家鹊占鸠巢六畜兴旺，所以妈妈带著我们孟母三迁，最后终于决定吃火锅。有家餐厅刚换壁纸，家徒四壁很是美丽，灯火阑珊 配上四面楚歌，非常有气氛。十面埋伏的女服务生们四处招蜂引蝶，忙着为客人围魏救赵，口蜜腹剑到让人误认到了西方极乐世界。
饥不择食的我们点了综合火锅，坐怀不乱的爸爸当头棒喝先发制人，要求为虎作伥拿着刀子班门弄斧的女服务生，快点将狡兔死走狗烹，因为尸位素餐的我们一家子早就添油加醋完毕，就等着火锅赶快沉鱼落雁好问鼎中原，可惜锅盖太小，有点欲盖弥彰。
汤料沸腾后，热得乐不思蜀的我们赶紧解衣推食好大义灭亲上下其手，一网打尽捞个水落石出。
火锅在我们呼天呛地面红耳赤地蚕食鲸吞后，很快就只剩沧海一粟，和少数的漏网之鱼。母范犹存的妈妈想要丢三落四放冬粉时，发现火苗已经危在旦夕，只好投 鼠忌器。幸好狐假虎威的爸爸呼卢喝雉叫来店员抱薪救火，终于死灰复燃，也让如坐针毯的我们中饱私囊。鸟尽弓藏後，我们一家子酒囊饭袋，沆瀣一气，我和妹妹 更是小人得志，沾沾自喜。
不料结帐的时候，老板露出庐山真面目，居然要一饭千金，爸爸气得吴牛喘月，妈妈也委屈地牛衣对泣。
啊！这三生有幸的国庆日，就在爸爸对着钱包自惭形秽大义灭亲后，我们全家江郎才尽，一败涂地。
今天是国庆日，因为英明伟大的政府建设国家、爱护百姓的功绩罄竹难书，所以放假一天，爸爸妈妈特地带我们到动物园玩。
按照惯例，我们早餐喜欢吃地瓜粥。今天因为地瓜卖完了，妈妈只好黔驴技穷地削些芋头来滥竽充数。没想到那些种在阳台的芋头很好吃，全家都贪得无厌地自食其果。
出门前，我那徐娘半老的妈妈打扮的花枝招展，鬼斧神工到一点也看不出是个糟糠之妻。头顶羽毛未丰的爸爸也赶紧洗心革面沐猴而冠，换上双管齐下的西装后英 俊得惨绝人寰，鸡飞狗跳到让人退避三舍。东施效颦爱漂亮的妹妹更是穿上调整型内衣愚公移山，画虎类犬地打扮的艳光四射，趾高气昂地穿上新买的高跟鞋。
我们一丘之貉坐着素车白马，很快地到了动物园，不料参观的人多到豺狼当道草木皆兵，害我们一家骨肉分离。妻离子散的爸爸鞠躬尽瘁地到 处广 播，终于找到到差点认贼作父的我和遇人不淑的妹妹，困兽之斗中，我们螳臂当车力排众议推己及人地挤到猴子栅栏前，鱼目混珠拍了张强颜欢笑的全家福。
接着到鸡鸣狗盗的鸟园欣赏风声鹤唳哀鸿遍野的大自然美妙音乐。后来爸爸口沫横飞地为我们指鹿为马时，吹来一阵凉风，唾面自干的滋味，让人毛骨悚然不寒而栗，妈妈连忙为爸爸黄袍加身，也叮嘱我们要克绍其裘。
到了傍晚，因为假日的关系，餐厅家家鹊占鸠巢六畜兴旺，所以妈妈带著我们孟母三迁，最后终于决定吃火锅。有家餐厅刚换壁纸，家徒四壁很是美丽，灯火阑珊 配上四面楚歌，非常有气氛。十面埋伏的女服务生们四处招蜂引蝶，忙着为客人围魏救赵，口蜜腹剑到让人误认到了西方极乐世界。
饥不择食的我们点了综合火锅，坐怀不乱的爸爸当头棒喝先发制人，要求为虎作伥拿着刀子班门弄斧的女服务生，快点将狡兔死走狗烹，因为尸位素餐的我们一家子早就添油加醋完毕，就等着火锅赶快沉鱼落雁好问鼎中原，可惜锅盖太小，有点欲盖弥彰。
汤料沸腾后，热得乐不思蜀的我们赶紧解衣推食好大义灭亲上下其手，一网打尽捞个水落石出。
火锅在我们呼天呛地面红耳赤地蚕食鲸吞后，很快就只剩沧海一粟，和少数的漏网之鱼。母范犹存的妈妈想要丢三落四放冬粉时，发现火苗已经危在旦夕，只好投 鼠忌器。幸好狐假虎威的爸爸呼卢喝雉叫来店员抱薪救火，终于死灰复燃，也让如坐针毯的我们中饱私囊。鸟尽弓藏後，我们一家子酒囊饭袋，沆瀣一气，我和妹妹 更是小人得志，沾沾自喜。
不料结帐的时候，老板露出庐山真面目，居然要一饭千金，爸爸气得吴牛喘月，妈妈也委屈地牛衣对泣。
啊！这三生有幸的国庆日，就在爸爸对着钱包自惭形秽大义灭亲后，我们全家江郎才尽，一败涂地。
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