My column

Finally, I think Beijing Daily is going to publish my column. This is my third installment. I think I will be famous soon. Just kidding. No, seriously.

A World According to i-pod

American students listen to music every single minute, no matter whether they are working, studying, eating, jogging or sometimes even sleeping. In the past several years, Apple’s i-pod has become a ubiquitous school gear besides the backpack and notebook. If you also get this little metal box with white earphones, congratulation: welcome to the “cool-kid” club!

However, buying i-pod is not the only monetary investment. Music costs money too. For most students living in a dorm setting in China, pirated versions of music CD usually comes handy. The ultra-cheap price hides the real market values of the music. American students live in a totally different world. They would never suspect a plain-looking lady holding a baby on the street is actually a vendor of illegal disks. Talking about life experience……

Anyway, as the poorest among all demographics, college students usually get around by illegal downloading. The university has recently tightened the rules and several of my friends have received a warming email for their misbehaviors. However, this cannot stop brave souls from trying, as students exchange CDs and swap hard drives. Just in case my university is looking over my shoulder right now, I am here to declare that all the music in my i-pod is indeed legally procured. And conspicuously, I’ve lost all my receipts!

Some students in my dorm are hippie types. They seem to know the names of all rock bands and the histories of how each song was made. They go to all kinds of live performance, as if it is a ritual of coming of age. A big nerd as I am, I often suspect that not every performance is as fun as they describe. This reminds me that I used to always question the quality of pop music concerts in Beijing, although I had never been to one actually.

When we cook, two big speakers face the kitchen and blast loud music. Sometimes it is even hard to chat with people two feet away. People will sing along when the music is familiar. At one time, we kept playing the musical “Rent” over and over, and the kitchen would produce all different pitches of “five hundred twenty-five thousand six hundred minutes, how do you measure a year?” I figure the composer is a mathematician. Sometimes students get all hyped up, and they will do some happy dances along with the music.

American students’ love affair with the music is probably seeded early in their children. Churches are the art center of local communities, and a lot of kids participate in the chorus. Schools never force-feed students with academic materials, so students freely choose singing and dancing as their life inspiration. Recently, “American Idol” TV program has set up a dream workshop. Singing well, you are Kelly Clarkson. Singing awful, you are William Hung. Either way, you get a record deal and gain fame over night.

My taste of music has been changing under the influence of my friends in my dorm. The 3,600 songs in my i-pod have recorded the shifting landscape of the music dear to me. Some early favorites have been shuffled aside, and new songs gain prominent locations in the play-lists. After some painstaking research, I have found three tricks that, if I play masterfully, would make you well respected by cool kids in America. First, repeat after me, “I HATE Celine Dion!” (or even better, say, “I am over Madonna now.”) Second, procure as much knowledge about “the Beatles” as possible and always boast about that. Third, play a musical instrument, preferably guitar. Oh, did I forget to mention i-pod?

Why?

It is a short one. I just called Zexum, and she was busy. So we just talked for about 5 minutes and then she said she had to go back to work. And I said it was totally okey. Then I felt bad after I hung up.

I have been telling her that it is okey to plead "busy" when I call her in her busy time. In fact, having her own work and being serious about it is one major reason why I like her. However, human emotion can trick me into something else, and I guess I have to live with it.

.... (Two hours later) Just kicked some serious asses. Finished some monstrous homework in two hours. Thought it might take more, but obviously it does not take that long.

A weekend!

Hi, kids, I am here again, happy about the weekend. The small obligations combined to make me hard to breath, and at least now I am feel a sigh of relief since I have two days to finish up unfinished business. However, things still keep piling up even over the weekends, so I really need to glue my ass on the chair and do things one after another.

My advisor emailed me a minute ago. Obviously, he got to know the job offer from someone else and asked what I think. Damn, I thought I can have a better answer for him than the one I had now (I do know knpw). I tried to hide the news from him so that I will have some time to see other options and wait for other opportunities. Now I may hold on for one more day and just give him a damn and indecisive answer. That's not the image I want him to have of me.

Stretched out for sure, but am I stressed out? Hell no. I felt alive, mainly because of my friends I made in the past year or two. For good or bad, I slowly lost the connections with my chinese fellows that used to be my only network. I do not even think of calling them at all at any more. Maybe I just do not care any more. Maybe I just happened to know too many of their imperfections and found out that I had alternatives to them. For example, I know one person is never honest, and the other friends seem to keep the eyes closed. I was the one to shout out "the emperor does not have clothes on," but that only ruined everyone's good feeling. Another friend was only friend when your status is high, but easily abandoned you when you are not. Yet another..... Fuck. I admit that I am imperfect, but I wouldn't trade my integrity for anything! So here I am. On this crossroad, I feel the constellation of the people around me shifting and shifting. Sometimes I feel nostagia, but more often than not, I find myself much enpowered, because I have options on friends now.

I do not know why I want to be so negative in this blog now, because originally I intends to praise my new friends. One friend especially deserves mentioning: a girl from my dance group. She embodies almost all virtues I value much, and she just treated me with a lunch. Also, another crazy girl in the group. We just played around so much that I was no longer sexualized with her. Another male friend is the one of the two persons who actually know the reason of my Hangzhou trip (besides my blog readers).

I called home yesterday. My parents just purchased a new apartment. It costs a fortune, but it all worths it. My dad told me one reason is to have face among his colleagues, and I was quite touched by his honesty. I know it was hard for him to tell me (or everyone else) about this "shameful" reason, and I am happy that he began to treat me as an adult now. Thanks, dad. I chipped in some money to help them out. But I know more importantly, they can earn faces by telling friends and relatives that "our son gave us money from the US to buy the apartment." This is quite laughable, but it comforts me just by imagining their happiness of saying that.

Also, I accidentally read an English blog of a friend. She used to have a blog of Chinese, and I read that blog regularly. The Chinese blog is just too neat: every emotion is processed and thought through, and each entry could be a text-book essay. Every time I read it, I had to wonder, what is she REALLY thinking about? Obviously, I am a bigger fan of her English blog, because I can just take the words and sentence as they are. I guess that's also the reason why I keep an English blog. It is just now sincere I want to be while blogging, and I do not want to my native language to mess it up with all its subtlety, nuance and weird connotations. Sometimes, knowing less and knowing more.

Now it is time to paint the chair. I started two weeks ago, and now it is time to finish it!

Amazing run around West Lake

I had a great run around West Lake two days ago. It took me one hour. I estimated it was about 1/4 - 1/3 of a marathon. Maybe I should shoot for half a marathon next time? I did not feel too tired because of all the attention I got on the road. I guess that's why I also love stage performance. Keep it on.

My friend (XXYY)

(Written on Feb 16, and revised on Feb 20)

I know I will write about her some day. I wanted to when I was in China last month, but after I came back to the states, I gave up the motivation. It is just hard to write about her when physically far away. A sense of detachment never works to my favor. However, now I am back in China again. Currently typing in a Youth Hostel in Hangzhou, waiting for Zexum to show up. I think I should pick up this thread yet again, although not sure how good a job I can do for now.

XXYY is a skinny skinny girl. Skinny is usually a word for physicality, but for her, it is also of her personality. She was lovely when we were in high school together. She stood out in an unconventional way. In school, usually good students are also popular. She is not a good student, but she manages to be popular. She is extremely intelligent and well-versed. Has a quick wit, only for social interaction, not for academic studies. Somehow, academic studies are just not good enough for her. I used to be one of the kids who want her attention to. Because for me, her approval indicates that I am not a nerd after all, and proving that was very important to me.

But her smartness is probably wasted. Not because that she does not study hard, but because her smartness is used mostly to fend off others’ abuse and bullying. (I realize this point after I was much old). People like to make fun of her, just because she is so smart and always protects herself well. Nobody really understood her back that time. I was also one of them who like to make fun of her, as if she is the perfect girl to practice flirting with. Now I realize that we actually made some injuries to her that probably she herself never realized how bad those wounds are.

Anyway, those wounds do not manifest themselves in any obvious ways. Maybe I am just so sensitive that I create some dramas out of nothing. But here is my theory, right or wrong. XXYY is insecure underneath her impenetrable shell. That’s why I found that her skinniness is also part of her personality: a person suffers quite much that all the suffering manifest itself on the exterior, and sadly, nobody understands that suffering.

I do not know why I should be that sentimental. After all, that kind of story happens every day in China: a young soul got smothered by good-willed or bad-willed friends. However, I felt bad about it because I, and my friends, used to take advantage of her, mostly out of senseless joy. I quite regretted that now, and I am sorry. And I know I should let nobody know about this regret, as it would only show how condescending I am now.

All my feelings aside, here are some facts (By the way, I am quite proud that I am one of the few who really understand her, know where she get to today and concerned about where she is heading. But I regret that this understanding comes too late). I attended her wedding last month. I arrived late, and she was busy tending different guests. She looked exhausted, as she should. After guests began to leaving, a bunch of core friends still stayed. Friends made fun and told jokes, most of them not even funny and most of them were quite gross. She dealt with them well and appropriately, just as she did back in high school. A daring girl, no boys could get an up-hand over her. The scene reminded me how she was treated by friends back in high school. I used to think she enjoyed it, but obviously she was not.

After a fun-less half hour, I was about to leave. She accompanied me to the elevator, and we hugged. She suddenly cried, as if she finally got an outlet from those bullying. My hands held her bony back, feeling bad. Without masks, she was just a little girl crying in other people’s arms. And I guess that she really needs this kind of break, finding a safe place to cry. I am very happy that I was that safe place that night, as if it could redeem me from my insensitive treatment of a great friend back in high school. A great friend? I want to say so, or at least want to think that way.

In any account, this blog is strange. I do not really have pity or feel condescending towards XXYY. But if you read this blog, I bet you will feel that way. And I am sorry if you do, because that’s not what I want to convey. Sometimes I feel sad about the reality, as some stupid people have all the attention and some great people are left forgotten. XXYY is a great person, but not a lot of people appreciate that. She is still proud of herself and never lose self-confidence, but one day, maybe she herself will forget her own greatness.

You may ask, how great she is? I do not know for other people, but for me, she probably changed my life trajectory for ever. She was free, unconventional and love literature. That was part of the package that convinced me to switch from science to liberal arts, joining the literature club, went to people’s university of China for sociology, and finally landed in another country and still loved the arts so much. Among all my 26 friends in my blog, XXYY was the one that I interacted with the least. However, Every time when I came to China, I wanted to see how she was doing. Because deep down, I seemed to understand, knowing her is also about knowing myself. And so far, getting to know her is quite a fun and amazing journey.

a meal on Songhua

I helped a grocery store run, so my friends dedicated this meal to me. "On Songhua" is a pun here! 

Hongkong and Hangzhou

I went to Hongkong for the job interview. I have to say that I was an instant hit in Hongkong. I was especially good in the Q&A session, as I nailed all the questions but still paid respects to those professors, some of which were smart while others were not. I got the job, though I was really not sure whether I should go.

On a related story, I saw AlphaBBQ again in Hongkong. We went to watch a dance show together. It was quite amazing. Here are some words I wrote down after I went back to the hotle.

******

I think I have something to say to the blogs. Now I am in hongkong again, having this stupid job talk. I got this job (of course!), but do I really going to take it? Anyway, let’s not think about it right now.

I just watched the Cloud Gate Dance Troupe’s performance. I do not know how to describe how I liked it. The pieces are almost perfect in its own way, but I feel something is not right. It is just too well planned in small details that I do not get the whole point of the pieces.

Anyway, that’s not really important tonight. I saw Alphabbq again tonight, one month after our last encounter. I treated her the dance tickets and she treated me a late dinner. She looked tired, and I find my words were not able to cheer her up too much. I think I am not doing too well recently either. Many responsibilities I have taken this year have taken a toll on me, and I am just hanging on, trying so hard to be a "perfect" person. I guess everyone has those hard times, and she probably needs some good sleep. I am a little worried about her losing sleep, because when I am stressed out, sleeping is usually the first indication.

After I said goodbye to her in the train station, I felt sad. (Strange that I did not feel that way last time. For some reasons, I sorta know that I will come to Hongkong soon again. Not this time though). I was on the train, flipping over some sad coldplay songs on my ipod. I know I get into this emotional slump. Tomorrow is totally unknown, and every goodbye of today is just sad sad sad. Sometime I hope I can just break down one day, to really sort through my thoughts, to throw away those unnecessary burdens, and to emerge as a person with no history.

I am being stupid here. But hey, it is my blog, and I say whatever I want. Strange thing is: After I wrote it out, I am no longer sure whether it was what I intended to wrote to begin with. But what the heck!

****************

Now it is back to Feb 20, and I just read her blog about the same event. I always think her blogs are better in presenting the facts, as mine tends to be analytical so that the facts are actually distorted. Anyway, I have been reading her blogs quite closely. But the strange thing is: when I met her, I pretended that I was not reading her blogs. For example, I pretended not knowing her new hair style, although she posted the photos early on. I still do not know why. Maybe unconsciously, I regard reading a blog is equal to stalking a person, and I am not fond of admitting that.

Finally, there is this photo of "sogo". Every time I met Alphabbq, we would pass that same logo for some reason. In January, we met for two days, for each day I remembered the logo. On a third, when I was wandering in Hongkong at night alone, I passed it again. I took a picture of it, thinking whether I should ask her out for a walk again. I eventually refrained from that and chose to visit several museums by myself. This time we saw it again, and finally I realized that it is at the entrance of the train station, where we usually departed. No wonder! Now this photo seems to have more meanings for me: not only a location we passed together, but also an emotion of "goodbye".

Thanks for her wish of "good-luck", I did have a great time in Hangzhou. During my time in Hongkong, I felt this long distant relationship had taken a toll on me and my confidence got eroded quickly. However, meeting Zexum in person reassured me that it would be a huge pity if I missed this good girl. We had a most civil discussion about our relationship and I was assured that we were on the same page. We finally held hand the moment before I hopped on the bus, a moment I only wish happened earlier. Both of us have some decisions to make, and I am still not 100 percent sure. However, I am very optimistic now. I am going to call her in a minute.

Catching up

Wow, it has been a while since last time I blogged. Here are some catch-ups.

I finally had my dance debut. After the performance, I sent out this email to my dancers to explain my piece.

*****************
Hi, that's my last "Hi dancers" email. Thanks so much for being in mypiece and dance so well tonight!
You may have been wondering, "why is this piece called 'beans on thefloor'?" Well, it refers to a silly story during my childhood: When I wasabout 5 years old, I was very stubborn. One day my grandma handed me abowl of breen beans and I was happy eating. However, one bean was droppedon the floor. I asked my grandma to find this ONE bean, but she couldn't.Who knows how far the bean had been rolling? I then cried andcried and cried, insisting on finding this bean. Eventually, my grandmasecretly took one bean from the big pot and shouted, "See, Songhua, I'vefound it!" I believed her and happily ate this one precious bean Which Ithought that attempted to escape me.
That's all about it. Now my grandma is very old, living in a seniorcenter back in hometown. I think I should pay some tribune to her, since Igrew up with her rather than my parents until I graduated from highschool. The idea: I love her as much as I loved the bean on the floor whenI was a kid. So this piece.
Best,
Songhua

Beaten

Life goes alternative days and years. One day you are up there floating and the other you get smashed on the ground like a flat pancake. Today I am the pancake, flatter than you can imagine.

It starts with an exhausted body after yesterday's performance and a realization that I might be done with dancing or anything related with the youth. Also, I really a long-distance relationship (though not really started) might not good for me in the end. I did really bad in spanish class, as I did not really get what's going on there. Then I practiced my job talk and realized that it needed quite some work. I went to an oral communication tutor, and I thought that I did badly there. Then I got a call from the consulting company: I was kicked off in the second round. I know I did not do too well in the interview, but hard facts are always hard to swallow. Now swallow my own pride and realize that I am just one of the little guys on the street with only a crappy life story to tell.

This may sound crazy. But when I am in a down day, I can't help suspecting whether spending the past six years here is actually a mistake and a big waste of time. I really hope not, but this thought just sneaks in when my mind is in the most vulnerable stage. When it occurs, I feel helpless. I know the exact reasons why my life needs a change and almost see when it is going to happen, but I feel I am running out of the tricks of "how".

I need to put myself together before tomorrow though, because I have another practice job talk coming up. Well, doing well there would be crucial, because I constantly need those small successes to remind my worth to myself anyway. I hope I wouldn't be a piece of shit tomorrow.