2014年2月1日 星期六
Torment torment
I don't want to be mean, but sometimes .. oh gosh. This article is boring, so are the people.
2014年1月31日 星期五
Interview flops
It's dangerous, but I always have failure in the forefront of my thoughts. Whenever I'm handed an an article to write, there's always this comforting thought at the back of my mind that whispers: "It's alright if your sources refuse to answer your calls, you can just tell your editor that the story failed, and it's none of your fault."
How delusional that thought is!
Why isn't it my fault? Of course it is my fault. There are so many different methods to procure information now- failure to seek for even one contact is shameful. I know that myself, but that whispering devil just wants to make me hide from the truth and find excuses.
I realize that whenever it comes to asking favors from others, I fail horribly. Right now I"m lost in writing my article- they aren't responding to me at a rate that I would like, I don't know who I should look for, and the information is scattered everywhere. How should I summarize it all, extract the essence from the bulk of data and present an enticing angle?
Just the data itself is boring to me.
What should I do?
I hate failures.
How delusional that thought is!
Why isn't it my fault? Of course it is my fault. There are so many different methods to procure information now- failure to seek for even one contact is shameful. I know that myself, but that whispering devil just wants to make me hide from the truth and find excuses.
I realize that whenever it comes to asking favors from others, I fail horribly. Right now I"m lost in writing my article- they aren't responding to me at a rate that I would like, I don't know who I should look for, and the information is scattered everywhere. How should I summarize it all, extract the essence from the bulk of data and present an enticing angle?
Just the data itself is boring to me.
What should I do?
I hate failures.
2014年1月26日 星期日
Private lives
The 1920's have always been a point of interest for me, but now more so than ever. Seeing the two psyches juxtaposed against each other in this play, even prominently exhibited by their different dress choices and conversation topics is a joy, especially when it becomes the butt of the joke.
Elyot and Amanda are flamboyant, liberal, free, careless and "flippant" while their new spouses belong to the old, rich class- prim and proper, obsessed with codes of honor and gender roles inherited by ages of the past. When they come together, everything explodes- literally- as they tear the stage apart.
We see Amanda's husband in beige suit, ready to engage in a duel of honor trying so hard to understand Elyot's superficiality and slickness. Then there's Elyot's wife, a sweet young lady who tries to pursue this man of whom she doesn't understand.
What ensues is a hilarious mix of comedy and romance.
Another theme present is on the definition of "love". What is love? Something that torments its victims? Elyot and Amanda's relationship is explosive and stormy- their love is thunderous- beautiful yet lethal. Their new spouses, who eventually fall in love with each other as well, become such monsters as well in the end. I suppose this is in response to the dawn of a new era, one of liberation whereby girls are free to love and boys to woo. They no longer had to have the relationships that their parents have- solemn, serious, proper and more like an obligation than something as exciting as romance. They could now have passionate, wild love! They could be themselves and care not for codes of conduct!
Yet such freedom comes with its own price- you've got to deal with each other, confront the ugliest monster in you and in the partner you love in order to enjoy such ecstatic love. That's what the couple had to discover.
I suppose my obsession with the jazz age has to do with the rapid changes that surround the times, bringing in confusing mix of ideals and culture as everybody tries to learn about themselves.
Some profiles
Facebook: To socialize
Blog: To release
Twitter: I can't be bothered
Pinterest: Likewise
Tumblr: For quotes
Instagram: For photos and sharing thoughts
2014年1月25日 星期六
Communication
I think that's the key. Having searched for so long the essence of communication, I think the crux of connecting with others is sharing. Telling others your problems, your stories and your daily encounters, and then listening patiently to theirs. It involves bringing your dilemmas to others to be solved together instead of wrecking your brain in desire to resolve the issue by yourself.
How did I never notice that?
Maybe because that action has always left me the feelings if I were troubling another, that others are uninterested in listening to my trivial problems. Who had time for others when they themselves were riddled with frustrations of their own? Yet it didn't seem so here- everybody is so ready to share their feelings and seek for opinions. Rather alarming on the level of openness and tendency to chatter incessantly, but still rather sweet and in many cases, helpful.
I've noticed how my suitemates, especially my roommate connect with others. She always takes time to talk to others, even in expense of her own already scarce time. They all share with each other little details of their lives, talking even when they've got pressing deadlines. I admire that, and I'm trying to learn that quality.
The problem is, I find myself inherently uninteresting at times.
It's as if I don't have any interesting stories to share, I'm not funny, nor do I have exciting conversation topics to contribute. Am I that boring? Sometimes I think not, sometimes I'm convinced of my dreariness.
I guess that's a reason I'm enticed by the art of storytelling. Just the idea of sitting around a bonfire, telling stories of our lives, or sitting in a library filled with people of distinct backgrounds and passions sharing openly their ideals and principles of life seem so inviting.
The definition of friendship used to be an indistinguishable goo in the past, but I daresay it's getting untangled gradually.
Soon, it shall see sunshine and the blue sky!
How did I never notice that?
Maybe because that action has always left me the feelings if I were troubling another, that others are uninterested in listening to my trivial problems. Who had time for others when they themselves were riddled with frustrations of their own? Yet it didn't seem so here- everybody is so ready to share their feelings and seek for opinions. Rather alarming on the level of openness and tendency to chatter incessantly, but still rather sweet and in many cases, helpful.
I've noticed how my suitemates, especially my roommate connect with others. She always takes time to talk to others, even in expense of her own already scarce time. They all share with each other little details of their lives, talking even when they've got pressing deadlines. I admire that, and I'm trying to learn that quality.
The problem is, I find myself inherently uninteresting at times.
It's as if I don't have any interesting stories to share, I'm not funny, nor do I have exciting conversation topics to contribute. Am I that boring? Sometimes I think not, sometimes I'm convinced of my dreariness.
I guess that's a reason I'm enticed by the art of storytelling. Just the idea of sitting around a bonfire, telling stories of our lives, or sitting in a library filled with people of distinct backgrounds and passions sharing openly their ideals and principles of life seem so inviting.
The definition of friendship used to be an indistinguishable goo in the past, but I daresay it's getting untangled gradually.
Soon, it shall see sunshine and the blue sky!
I feel so stupid
I guess it's a good thing that I'm learning new things here in university.
As my history professor told me, "Isn't that the point of college?"
I was telling him about my visit to the museum of history and the state capitol, where I saw ex- confederate soldiers step out in full uniform to celebrate their old general's birthday. He laughed, remarked on how they seem to be of another era, joked about the United States being the only place where people still celebrate birthdays of traitors and talked about the Chancellor's poorly written e- mail response to the athletic scandal.
Now, I am not a smart girl who is too informed about history. For instance, I know the the old confederate general Robert E. Lee is a hero, but not a traitor. What did he mean by his supposed joke? Nor have I read the chancellor's e-mail at that time, so I didn't actually know how to respond.
So I did what ignorant people do. I laughed and pretended that I knew.
How horrible it is to discover the extent of your limitations! Sitting in my sustainability class gives me that precise feeling of inferiority- why were these students so clued in about the details of zoning and environment related technology? I am still a layman's term user!
Journalism class is worst. How did they know so much about different companies and have so much experience in everything? Have they lived ten years longer than me? What have I been doing all my life? Wasting it on wasteful things?
Most probably.
Anyhow,recognizing my deficiency should be the first step to unlocking a larger realm of knowledge. There's no space to feel inferior here.
Just keep pushing forwards, girl!
As my history professor told me, "Isn't that the point of college?"
I was telling him about my visit to the museum of history and the state capitol, where I saw ex- confederate soldiers step out in full uniform to celebrate their old general's birthday. He laughed, remarked on how they seem to be of another era, joked about the United States being the only place where people still celebrate birthdays of traitors and talked about the Chancellor's poorly written e- mail response to the athletic scandal.
Now, I am not a smart girl who is too informed about history. For instance, I know the the old confederate general Robert E. Lee is a hero, but not a traitor. What did he mean by his supposed joke? Nor have I read the chancellor's e-mail at that time, so I didn't actually know how to respond.
So I did what ignorant people do. I laughed and pretended that I knew.
How horrible it is to discover the extent of your limitations! Sitting in my sustainability class gives me that precise feeling of inferiority- why were these students so clued in about the details of zoning and environment related technology? I am still a layman's term user!
Journalism class is worst. How did they know so much about different companies and have so much experience in everything? Have they lived ten years longer than me? What have I been doing all my life? Wasting it on wasteful things?
Most probably.
Anyhow,recognizing my deficiency should be the first step to unlocking a larger realm of knowledge. There's no space to feel inferior here.
Just keep pushing forwards, girl!
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