There Is Always A First Time

When I feel a bit down, usually there are two things that I would choose either to do to cheer myself up and stop me from mutating into a total pessimist. One is to get my hair trimmed, the other, which is also more frequently used, is to eat a nice meal. But this time I decided to take a brand new approach.

I bought two Thai massage coupons of a newly opened SPA shop from one of those popular discount websites at the time when I felt drained preparing for my IELTS exam. The offer on the website was not only in a very tempting price but also sounded exactly like what I needed then - with only 14 quid I can experience a 120 minute long ancient Thai style massage for the whole body to help relax your tense muscles.

However, I neither used the coupons during my IELTS preparation, nor did I use it as a celebration of passing the exam. I don't know what I was waiting for. Guess it was a bit like my 'Chrismas chocolate complex.' When I was still a kid, my younger sister Ruby and I always received loads of beautifully wrapped chocolate and candy at Christmas. Both of us had a tin box, Ruby's was sliver and mine was black, where we would put all of our chocolate and candy in. The bottom of Ruby's tin box was usually seen within one or two months after Christmas. As for mine, even though it was not my original intention at all, I usually let the chocolate and candy stay until passing its best-before date. Cos they were just too beautiful to eat. And I was also waiting for a 'special' mood, whether being depressed or happy, to feel like having the desperate need to enjoy them.

Despite intentionally choosing to walk for about forty minutes, instead of taking a bus there, I was still fifteen minutes early. A mild smell of incense wafting through the doorstep when the glass door was opened. The shop was pretty much the same as the photos I had seen on the website. Under my feet was clean and cool dark brown wooden floor. A wall of green plants stood at the left hand side at the entrance. Cozy rattan sofa formed the waiting area with a small bowl of white plumeria flowers casually placed on the rattan coffee table. There were also several different sizes of wooden and stone elephant sculptures resting at the corners on the floor and on the cabinets.

Although surrounded by very relaxing ambiance and having my feet washed and massaged, somehow all I was thinking was a footage of the famous Amercian chef Anthony Bourdain's programme Anthony Bourdain : No Reservations. In one episode he travelled to Turkey and went for a Turkish style massage. He was all wet and barely naked lying on a platform in a tiled bathroom with only a small towel covering his butt. Straddled by a Turkish guy he was painfully whining whiling having his limbs and body twisted and folded in a certain way. He claimed later in the interview that it was one of the most humiliated moments in his life. Suddenly, I felt a bit nervous and wanted to ask, 'errr, could somebody please explain what exactly the 'ancient Thai style massage really means?'

After the feet washing, I was brought to a room called Lavender in the cellar where I got changed into a loose-as-size-14 white cotton top and bermuda pants. My No.9 'master' (as what we call masseuse/ masseur in Chinese) is a slim Thai born Chinese woman in her early forty. To recall our conversation before she started her service, feel somehow now it sounds like lines in some kind of porn film.

'Is this your first time?'
"Yes, and actually I am feeling a bit nervous right now."
'Well, it is a bit painful if this is your first time. But, don't worry, I will try to be gentle. And you can always tell me if you want me to be even more gentle.'

There were some positions I think we might look like women wrestling on WWE women championship and I was preparing to scream if she bent my legs toward my head one degree more. Although I didn't fall asleep, which is what I had imagined and expected, we exchanged some interesting conversation. And I was surprised to know that actually there are much more men going for a massage than women. Interestingly, she also said that comparing to people in other countries, she thinks Taiwanese people prefer probably the most intensive strength on their massage.

Walking out the shop I can't wait to call Sabrina who recommended me to buy the coupons and shared with her my first time experience of having a professional massage.  Although think I will add having a massage on my list as one of the antidotes next time, maybe not a Thai style one. (10 quid for a coupon to enjoy an ancient Thai style massage, anyone?)

Another Pre-departure Briefing

In my family it’s mainly my mum’s task when it comes to our education. Besides providing bread, one of the most related things my dad was responsible for probably is picking me up after school and my piano lesson. My dad always looked uncertain when his friend asked him what year I was in at university. Not to mention when he tried to introduce me to his friends about what I studied for my MA, it took him quite a while to get used to say all the three words ‘intellectual property right’ together.

His indifference to our education will be the most unconvincing reason. But not sure whether it’s because he has an autocratic daughter who usually makes her own decision or because she just seldom worries him on her study. My parents, especially my dad, gave me great freedom on both what I want to study and which school I want to go to. Even though my mum was more informed, the information she obtained was still very limited.

Soon my life is going to take an exotic new turn and my academic study is going to be extended. After attending the pre-departure briefing host by British Council this Sunday, the outline of my coming new life will become even more vivid. Well, but only to me, I think.  So far my dad still has no idea which city I am going to go to. Guess he couldn't really point out where Cardiff is on a map either, even though I have been there twice. My mum remains referring to the University of Warwick and the University of Bristol by saying ‘the school at the boring place’ and ‘the school closer to Cardiff’. Ruby, my younger sister, has heard of the city Bristol but has no idea at all about the place. As for my little sister Lucy, 'Xiao Wen is going to study in the country where Harry Potter lives' is pretty much all she knows at the moment.

Maybe my family they need a pre-departure briefing too. They have been very supportive since the moment I announced my big plan. And I know sometimes they worry too. A powerpoint presentation may not be able to provide them a clear image of my coming new life, but at least might stop my mum from nagging me to buy a new down jacket to defend British winter or even better, to seduce them to visit me next summer in the UK!

haven't decided what I am going to put in my powerpoint yet, but hope mentioning the author of Harry Potter was born near Bristol will contribute some positive influence to Lucy.

Counting Steamed Buns

Since the day James left for his one-year compulsory military service, there have been love missiles launched every day from the Liens' apartment, well, from Ruby's room, to be exact. It has been more than three weeks and my sister Ruby is still sending a letter to her boyfriend by post every day. And the missiles always hit the target precisely according to James's telephone report every evening.

I seldom hear any of my male friends being looking forward to the military service. Most of them either worry about the strict discipline in the army or consider the service wasting their valuable time, especially my law school classmates. Because it means an extra year wasted to pass the bar exam. Yet, James was one in the minority who felt very positive before leaving for his service and was even hoping that he can serve in the toughest unit on one of those tiny islands around Taiwan. But after three weeks in the military, his determination starts to waver. Now plus Ruby's help from God, I guess we will never be able to see James in the uniform of marine corps.

Shortly before the first month's basic training is completed, James and other rookies will need to draw lots to determine where they are going to be and what they are going to do for the next 11 months. When things depend on pure luck, unsurprisingly some of us start to do what we Chinese are really good at - being superstitious.

A square and thin slice of rice cake, a half of rice ball with a 'dragon eye' fruit (longan) on top and several packets of biscuits on the kitchen counter were the clues that someone went the temple and prayed for something in our house. It was Ruby. She said she went to pray that God will send James to a relative easy unit and make him stay in Taiwan, even in Taipei. Meanwhile, James also received some tips from his fellows about how to have a lucky draw. For example, he was suggested to draw an eye on his palm when it is his turn to draw lots. Also, don't use the hand which you use to wipe your butt after you poo. Cos everything related with poo is also related with bad luck.

I shared Ruby with my friends' experience about serving on those small islands, 'It will not be that bad. Actually they said comparing to serving at Ministry of National Defense in Taipei, the task is much simpler and easier. And the meals are even better there. James will not only still get the same amount of holidays but also obtain an extra allowance. Besides, that's the only opportunity that you can visit those islands. I think that's pretty exciting.' Ruby looked at me the same way as some of my male friends. They think I have no idea how gloomy they sometimes felt.

In the old days when steamed buns and soy milk were still the food for breakfast in the military, consuming one more steamed bun means the soldier is one more day closer to going back home. Now the phrase is used to express and imply a soldier's feeling of wishing time can fly much more faster.

Think they are right that I may never be able to understand how it feels to serve in the military or how it feels to launch a love missile every day. But my empathy for James is absolutely undoubted. I really wish time can fly much much faster too.

Butt with No Thorns

Mum used to say that there are thorns on my dad's butt that he couldn't sit on the sofa for more than 30 minutes. I think she was just trying to describe how energetic my dad is.

Dad has no problem finding something to entertain himself. I remember when I started to play rollerblades at about 14, he not only got himself a new pair of rollerblades too but also a skateboard. Today, besides swinging his golf clubs in our lounge, he has found another thing to keep him busy.

A few weeks ago mum and dad invited Ruby's boyfriend James to the restaurant inside a nice hotel for a farewell dinner before he left for his military service. Even though dad is usually immune to fancy technology products, after letting him know how the female Taiwanese golf player Yani Tzeng was doing in the Honda LPGA Thailand this year during the dinner through my iPod touch, he was totally charmed by smart phone.

He has been sitting on his chair playing his smart phone for more than two hours after dinner now, sipping his tea and sometimes making strange noises when he couldn't figure it out how to let his smart phone work in the way he wanted. Mum said she hopes dad's new toy can make him learn how to check and reply emails himself, instead of asking us to do it every time. Well, if it doesn't turn out to be that way, think I can at least comfort mum that there are no thorns on dad's butt.

To My New Relationship. Cheers!

Don't quite believe in love at the first sight, but understand how important first impression is. So I tried to present the best of me, external and internal. Tried to convince him that I am the one for him, only I am talking about getting myself a job, not a man.

Usually it helps and saves a lot of time and work when I reveal my academic background. But when it comes to meeting "upper class" company like TSMC, ASUS or Acer, it seems like trying to meet people from the Royal Family. No overeas diploma, no qualification of a bar exam in America or in Taiwan and no enough full-time working experiences, my background can never be more humble. This is not surprising and is also quite understandable. No big deal since now doesn't mean forever.

And just like trying to have a relationship with someone, sometimes you might have some strong feelings for someone whom doesn't quite feel the same way about you, or somtimes someone likes you, but you only want to offer your friendship. Somtimes you might feel alone, but sometimes you might have difficulty deciding which man you're going to go out with. And sometimes friends might like your new partner a lot, but sometimes they might question your sanity.

Sabrina said I have only tried for slightly more than a month that I should be more patient. But I just feel tired of waiting. I'm not very worried I have to live by my very modest savings. It's with no income that makes me down sometimes. Because it makes me feel like being glued to where I stand right now, can't go anywhere far.

Don't think Sabrina understands actually I'm quite looking forward to my new relationship and nothing she said about my new partner diminished my interest and excitement to him at the moment. So congratulations to myself that I'll start a new relationship from next Monday!

And even though it's still several thousand millions miles away from the serious word 'marriage', I am definitely going to have a hen do this weekend!

One Word In Life

I was very glad when I found the book in the secondhand bookstore. It was called Six Kinds of Solitude. I've heard of it for quite a while. It was recommended by many book reviews. But after some pages, actually I found myself couldn't even finish a half of it.

Even though I didn't feel getting inspired at all about what the author said, it was its tone that really bothered me. I felt I was preached. Reading the book I felt like I was walking on the street and being approached by a person and he tried to convince me in an unnatural tone that I need to be forgiven and I should believe in God. 

I'm totally fine with religion and their believers. It's just the author's tone that really annoyed me. Why can't those believers and the author just talk like ordinary people in a natural voice when they give a sermon?

I am not crazy about any religion at all, not even Taoism or Buddhism. But I remember since I was a teenager, every time when I saw the slogan on the street lamp said, "Believe in God, then you can go to heaven", I always can't help to compare it with the Buddhist slogan "Put down the sword with blood, then instantly you can become a Buddha." From the two slogans I always felt Buddhism seems to be more generous since you don't need to believe in anyone, but only need to stop doing what is evil to be forgiven. Anyway, I just want to say that I really really don't like to be preached, especially in an unnatural tone.

I  heavily closed the book just to stop its litany and spit a relaxing sigh out. I loosely and cozily lay down in my bed and let my belly button look at the ceiling of my room as if I was trying to float on the sea. I was wondering how talented the author is that he could write a 288 pages book about only one word. What am I going to write about if I can only choose one word? 

I had no intension at all to make a contrast with the author's profound choice - talking about solitude, but all I could think about was really the word F-U-*-K. Not so sure how vulgar or offensive this word is in English, but not many women, at least not many of  my female friends say it in Chinese.

But seriously and honestly, I like the word. Cos it can always immediately and exactly express or release the intensity of my diverse feelings. Not a pinch more and not a pinch less. Very precise and direct at the exact moment. However, just in case people misunderstand that mostly it's only an urge to reveal the degree of my emotion than to offend or insult people, I usually said it when I was only with myself.

Therefore, when a taxi driver pressed his horn to my butt trying to remind me there was a taxi behind my back that I might want to take, I would yell silently, "Stop being so fu*king polite! I know how to do it when I need a cab!" The jingle when I threw myself into a swimming pool in a cold winter evening feeling all my body hair standing up was always me with a shivering voice singing Beethoven's Ninth Symphony in my mind with the only one word lyric, you know which word. This word was also a must line when some shitty food cost me more than it should deserve. Recently, I found myself said it a lot when I had no choice at all or had more than one undesirable choices. Life can really be so hard or confusing sometimes.

think this will not be a very hard subject to write about for me but I can also reckon which word people might want to say after reading my book (if it's ever written and published).......

Five Things That I Don't Understand About That Big Island

1. How beautiful do you want to look, women?

I know some women are willing to suffer to look beautiful. And sometimes I also show my support with my short dress or skirt to those women. But this time in Cardiff some women really got my eyes opened and also think they really pushed the idea to the extreme that I can never ever achieve.

During this trip, besides some London girls I met at the pub admitted they were as confused as I was when watching a rugby game, another comforting thing was I didn't need to wrap myself til being stumbled by my own layers of clothes to against the winter in Europe. Moreover, many locals I had talked to unanimously confessed they felt very cold as well.

The last evening when roaming around the city centre, I saw a lot of young men and women walking along the street wearing a burning summer outfit without ANY coat, jacket or cardigan covered or even just lingering on their arms. However, this didn't surprised me that much since I had been told (and warned) so many times before. The thing really surprised me and I really want to know is how they prevent themselves from shivering? How do those young people cheat their bodies?

2.Are you going to somewhere around Howell School?

That's the question I always asked the bus drivers when I needed to take a bus back to where I stayed in Cardiff. I had no problem and felt like a local taking a bus from where I stayed to the city centre, but going back by bus always exposed my identity as a stupid tourist.

The evening when I came back from Bath, at Cardiff railway station I thought taking the same bus which brought me to the railway station in the morning should be able to take me back. But the bus driver told me it's another bus I needed to take. Even though it confused me, I followed his advice.

It bewildered me a lot about the bus system in Cardiff. In Taipei, generally, buses go and come back by taking the same route. Buses can bring you back to the place where you get on. And there is usually a electrical board to tell you what the name of the stop is. So no need to worry even if you have never been to that place or whether you will miss the stop. But it's totally not the rules in the UK. Why can't you Britons make taking a bus simpler?

But, thankfully, the bus drivers I met were all very friendly and helpful. 

3.How impatient British people are when it comes to tea?

It was absolutely not the first time I saw how to make some tea by using a tea bag or a pyramid tea bag. And I've bought some loose tea from Harrods, Fortnum and Mason, Whittard of Chelsea and Lipton, but none of them can compete with the speed of making a cup of tea like a PG tips tea bag did.

Once I pour some boiling water in my mug with a PG tea bag, then even before I put the kettle down, the water in my mug has already been perfectly dyed and also become strong enough to fresh my brain. (I don't even have the time to yawn and feel how much I miss my bed in the morning!) 

Being a tea addict, no matter it's Chinese tea, Japanese tea, herb tea or black tea I had, at least I needed to put myself in a Zen mode to wait for a few seconds, then I could feel comforted with every following sips. Therefore, at first I was surprised and also kind of worried how tea could be made that fast, but quickly I became a fan of it, since I am not just a tea addict, but also an impatient one!

4.What are the ingredients of Britain's cookery programme? - A comparative study of cookery programmes in the UK and in Taiwan

1 big and posh kitchen
1 pretty woman, with a big butt (optional)
2 hairy bikers
4 total unfamiliar dinner guests
500g of stylish, rural, or cozy atmosphere, plus extra for dusting
3 tbsp tension
pinch of tears

They are the ingredients I roughly conclude for making a Britain's cookery programme after watching Nigella Express, Jamie's Kitchen, Come Dine With Me, The Hairy Bikers, Ready Steady Cook, Rachel Allen:Bake, Cooking It and Ramsay's Kitchen Nightmares. And I am wondering if a cookery programme to British people is mainly about entertaining more than providing basic rules or key information of cooking a dish.

The programmes were taken in a shinny, expensive or a professional kitchen or in a beautiful garden. (By the way, I learn the word "pantry" from Nigella Lawson's own kitchen in the show. Jeez...it reminded me how humble my background is. Cos before that I didn't even know there is such a space in a house!) To British people, in a way, cooking seems to become a dreamy living style, not something basic and realistic to our daily lives.

Cookery programmes in Taiwan are usually taken in a studio. And so far, I don't know why but besides a chief, there got to be a host. The kitchen in the show is just a combination of a stove, a sink and a working surface. Nothing really fancy or posh. And in the beginning and the end of the programmes usually they will clearly list on the screen all the ingredients for the dish and give you a review of the method. But, in the UK they don't list it and the chiefs (mostly is also the host) usually speak very fast. They don't seem to expect people to take notes of it.

Don't get me wrong. I like those programmes very much. I enjoyed observing what people wear, what they talk about or what they do during a dinner party on Come Dine With Me. I would also root secretly for the participant and hope after a few weeks' training, he/she could really defeat the other two professional chiefs and cheat the judges. The shows were all amusing, entertaining and educational (from a cultural and English learning aspect), but if I tried to recall what dishes were made and what I've learnt, the images in my head are usually in pieces. Is It because they belong to the Reality Television genre more?

Anyway. I am just curious that after watching those cookery programmes, how many Britons feel stimulated and really cook something, or they just feel entertained and think they need another bag of chips?

5.When will British people become superstitious?

I seldom buy lottery tickets in Taiwan. Because from limited experiences, I found I got little luck on gambling. In Taiwan, you can only buy lottery tickets in a lottery stall and it's usually not very easy to miss a lottery store, especially when the stall has sold a winning ticket of the biggest prize. 

Normally, they will hang a long red banner or put up a big red poster in front of their stall to tell you that. Because many Taiwanese people think it means the place is full of luckiness or the god of fortune has greater chances passing the stall so that they have higher possibility to become a billionaire. Besides, you can always find the god of fortune on the counter of a stall. And I don't know where the ritual comes from, but I've seen people touching the head of the god's head  with their lottery tickets. (No wonder the good of fortune is a bald guy....) 

Compare to the lottery stalls in Taiwan, the places where people buy their lottery tickets in the UK are very 'quiet'. You would not see any banner or poster on the wall. In fact, you will not even notice they sell lottery ticket! I remember the day before going to Manchester, I got my lotter ticket from a grocery store where I didn't even notice a single sign they sell lottery ticket, let alone seeing Britain's god of fortune. 

Ok, maybe we Chinese are too obsessed with money.

Last Cruise

After noticing my zits on my right cheek have got much better, after feeling getting more used to say “cheers” instead of “thank you” to a bus driver and after finally reducing the times of saying “hao”, which means "OK" in Chinese on the phone, it has also come to the end of my journey.

My last evening in the UK, sitting on the cozy red sofa listening to people accusing each other on Jeremy Kyle's show, I felt the urge to get away from the ugly side of humanity and have a last cruise of the city.

Clip-clop. Clip-clop. Listen to the certain, confident but easy clop from my boots when they kissed the chilly ground, I found it interesting that in both ends of my journeys to Germany and to the UK this time, I felt I’ve lived in both of the cities for much much longer than just five and fifteen days. 

Walking down Cathedral Road, I passed the grocery store, the old lady's vegetable shop, the butcher's shop that I had been to and then some beautiful waiting-for-let houses with their winter sleeping gardens. I started to wander between the reality and my fantasy. I picked a house I liked and began to picture what if I really live here, what I would be doing right now in the evening.

"Hmm…will I be crouching on my chair in front of my desk, having shit Chinese food from Tesco alone with a legal textbook on my lap and also trying to swear at the same time while eating it?! I may have no choice since I was as homesick as my best friend Gina used to be and being a student here has already made me too exhausted to cook...... OR…after all these years here, I have been totally assimilated that I will be sinking into a dark blue cheap cotton sofa from Ikea, stroking my gradually bigger and bigger, thicker and thicker belly and thighs with a remote control in my hand and thinking about what is the junk food I am going to have next…" 

Imagining both of the pictures along the road, I tried my best not to grin like a dumbass and continued my walk toward the shopping centre.

When getting closer and closer to the city centre, besides trying to buy myself a pair of shoes in this country, I discovered the second frustrating thing living in the UK – It was just about 7pm, but most shops were ready to close, even coffee shops. And the only available cheap food seemed to be Burger King or Subway this kind of place. The voice-over resounded in my head and said, “No wonder binge drinking is such an issue in this country - Cos they don't have many choices of entertainment in the evening! Poor British people…”

It was Hobson's choice that I walked into the Burger King. The young girl in her uniform standing opposite the counter had a very familiar face and reminded me of someone. It was not because of her black hair, yellow skin and her Chinese name suggested by the name tag on her left chest. It was Wei-Wei’s ponytail and hard-working attitude that reminded me of Sylvia, a friend whom I had visited and stayed with for two weeks in London in 2007.

Sylvia had a BA degree in Music in Taiwan. Her major and minor were Vocal Music and Piano. I still remembered the evening she was in her slivery white dress being radiant and singing on her mini graduation concert. She looked very elegant and her performance was beautiful.

When I saw Sylvia again in 2007, she has just got her MA degree in Arts Administration and Management in a university in London and also just started to work from early evening till early morning as a waitress in a night club. There were many times I wondered if those customers knew the waitress, who just took their orders and brought them their fancy cocktails could actually play wonderful piano and sing like an angel.

I could still recall a few times watching Sylvia dragging her stories with heavy steps going to work. And if I dug out my memory, I could still hear Sylvia's sobs when she told me parts of the stories and the reasons why she was rather being bossed around and working like a dog in the UK than coming back to Taiwan to have some claps she deserved on the stage. 

Sylvia had lost a very close family member due to a serious car accident when she was studying in the UK. And because of many many family and her emotional issues, Taiwan has become a place that’s too sorrowful for her to live in.

Even though the journey in 2007 was full of fascinating memory, after coming back to Taiwan, occasionally even till now I still think about Sylvia's story and wonder to what extent or because of what incident that I'll make such a sudden turn and find a new balance, like Sylvia did, in my life. 

Wei-Wei handed me my tea and stopped me before I went any deeper to my question this time. I smiled at Wei-Wei and tried to squint gently down as if it would make me discover what story she was dragging to work in such a cold evening with her. 

Time is never enough for remembering all those good and sad old days. But tea is always helpful when it comes to digestion, even when it's about memory. I quickly finished my tea after doing some writing and then kept cruising to the rest of the evening. 

Didn't really look down while walking, but I think, like Sylvia, we all drag some stories behind those smiley faces with us, no matter where we are or how hard we try to forget.

Guten Tag, Deutschland!

Before the plane really kissed the ground at Frankfurt International Airport, I could glance outside from the window that except the runway, most of the places were dusted with a generous layer of icing sugar. Didn't feel worried at all. In fact, I felt like a seven-year-old little girl going to Disneyland and seeing Micky and Minnie out of TV for the first time. And it also reminded me the short conversation I had with a girl from China when I was waiting for boarding in Hong Kong. She shared with me how difficult and how many documents she needed to provide to get the visa to visit her sister in the UK. And also told me it was her first time taking a flight. It's not hard to tell how excited she was because when we really stood in front of our plane, she said to me, 'awwwww, THIS is a plane!'

When my flight landed it the white theme city, Frankfurt, I kind of understood how the girl felt. Because I also had the excitement and wanted to say, 'awww...THIS is snow!' However, the romantic feeling about snowing soon disappeared. After dragging my chubby lagguage and trying to take S-Bahn to the central train station to my hotel, I understood how much inconvenience it might cause.

The hotel room I stayed at the first night was nice - free minibar, a big sofa, a bathtub and everything was pretty tidy. But there was one reason I really needed to get my room changed - the extremely unstable wireless internet connection. Thanks for the helpful hotel staff. My new room allowed me no need to sit almost at the hallway to use the internet and also provided a better view by facing the central train station. But this came with a price - I lost the big sofa and the bathtub. Damn.

The first culture difference I discovered was German must be a very patient people. Cos when the first time I entered the lift in my hotel, my unconscious action next was to impatiently find the 'close' button to close the lift doors. In Taiwan, it seems an unspoken rule that the lastest person coming into the lift should press the button and close the doors. But, in Frankfurt, there's no 'close' button in the lift! Therefore, I felt slightly embarrassed and inefficient no matter I was standing sliently for six seconds (Yes, I've counted it.) with just myself  or a group of people in the lift waiting for the doors to close. Am I being a too impatient Scorpion?! Or it just explained how tense our life was in Taiwan?!

Besides, I also gave Germany some of my 'virgin experience' - first time I learned it may also look like bigger breadcrumb when snow falling from the sky, first time I understood how salty a real Brezel should be, first time I tried and found that Japanese wasabi has a twin brother called horseradish......

I knew I was going to be fine when most of my family intimidated me how cold it may be in Germany. The thing was I didn't even feel the need to swear to expel the coldness or to spend time checking whether my nose and ears were still staying at the right places. But maybe it's because five days were still too short for the challenge. Ok, Germany, I promise I'll be back again! 

Advice needed - How To Dream A Dream?

I woke up with an half-wet t-shirt this morning. It's all because of a scary dream. Well, it's not about blood everywhere or about ghosts, that kind of scary.

In my dream, I was visiting a skyscraper with some friends. The building was taller than Taipei 101 and was even much taller than the new record winner - Burj Dubai, which is about 800 meters in Dubai. In fact, in my dream when my friends and I got to the highest floor of the skyscraper, we were actually in outer space.

Before I noticed that my friends and I were standing and taking some rest under a dark blue sign, there had already been thousands of people queuing after us. And I was the head of the line.

The dark blue sign seemed like a MRT station sign. So I was thinking, "ok, taking MRT, ummm...not a bad idea. think it will bring us to the center of the city."

After a few minutes, a roofless black train followed his track arrived. Because of being the head of the long queue, I was sitting at the first row of the roofless train. The train departed elegantly and smoothly. No doubt it was a normal train until we kept speeding up and I realised that it was actually a roller coaster!

While we were reaching the supersonic speed, the roofless black roller coaster also came to the end of its track. Suddenly, it was like a hystrical cork which was just popping out from a bottle of champagne after massive shakes. The roller coaster was not only flying and dashing with a mad speed in all kinds of directions in the universe, but also doing some tumblings and spins at the same time. And when friction from doing all the tricks slowed down the roller coaster, there came a long long free fall to bring us from the universe down to about sea level to meet another track. And then, it would speed up until we were in the universe and fast enough to do all the tricks again.

After many repeats of the whole process and running out all my energy to continue screaming and swearing in my dream, I woke up. No surprise that even with eight-hours sleeping, I still felt very tired.

Don't know what will come out if I try to google "how to dream a baby pink and princess theme merry-go-round dream."

I just want a good sleep tonight.

Always Get The Right Line Ready

Many years ago once I remember telling one of my college friends Yang that she and I had almost the same height. Yang felt hilarious but also slightly annoyed and said, 'Can't believe you say that! Don't you aware that your line of vision was going up when you're talking to me?!'

My explanation and theory to Yang then was maybe it's because most of time in my life I have to lift my chin with different angles when I talk to people. Since it is too often and I've got used to it, I stop feeling others are actually that much taller than I am.

I almost forgot about my crap theory until this afternoon Hannah, who I am sure is at least 5cm shorter than I am, said, 'After not seeing you for years, you are still petite and have the same height with me.'

Hannah and I were college schoolmates. Even though we usually found it interesting and relaxing talking to each other, we seldom hung out together then. After losing contact since our graduation, the connection was built again via facebook.

But not like those 'only-want-to-be-a-muted-voyeur' friends, Hannah sent me a message and asked me if I want to have a cup of coffee with her shortly after I clicked the 'accept' button.

Not hard to tell that Hannah brought me to a famous and popular afternoon tea shop. Layers of people were surrounding the small patio outside of the shop as if we were waiting to see a brilliant street performer playing ten oranges with his hands and spitting out flame at the same time. According to the waiting number we got, I estimated an hour of waiting was inevitable.

Queuing for at least an hour to get a cup of coffee and a piece of cake or some sandwiches while it was chilly and had some thin liquid threads falling from the sky?! Come on! It's crazy.

While I was planning how to make Hannah understand that patience is never my virtue and persuade her that the coffee and the cake next door would be as good as well, a waitress came out and said, 'Excuse me. If there are two guests who don't mind to sit at the counter, you may go inside right now. Anyone? Please raise your hand to let me know.'

I know I should ask Hannah first, but I just couldn't help to instantly stand on my tiptoe and put my right palm as high as possible above my head after the waitress closed her mouth. Maybe Hannah felt the threats from my eyes when I asked her. She smiled and said she doesn't mind before the waitress decided to let us in.

Honestly I don't understand why most of people preferred waiting for an hour than enjoying their time with their friends at the moment while also be able to monitor that their sandwich will be spread with enough butter and be put in decent amount of smoked chicken.

The afternoon was a bit like Hannah's press conference about her wonderful three-months trip in America. But I didn't feel annoyed at all. In fact, I often feel fascinated about people's self-help journey. I can understand that it's what may happen when you discovered and experienced the unexpected scenery or enlightenment from the expedition - you may have no time to swallow your spit and want to share the joy and excitement with others about what you've encountered.

I asked Hannah a question which I was asked frequently when people knew about my trip to the UK and Japan in 2007 - Did anything dangerous happen? Have you felt scared during your travel?

Hannah gave me the same answer that I offered to the people - 'No. I seldom felt afraid. Think it's because I prepared the information I need in advance. Or maybe I was just lucky.'

While I was just going to identify myself with her, Hannah continued and shared her friend's story with me.

Once on a very crowded tube in New york, Hannah's Taiwanese friend was sure that there was a palm sticking on her butt. She turned her head and stared at the man with a firm and serious voice, and said, "Do not touch me." But the guy wore a evil smile and answered with an obscene look, 'Why not?' Then it ended up with Hannah's friend getting off the tube at the next stop embarrassingly.

Hannah and I both felt lucky that none of this kind of thing happened to us. But think even if it does happen, I have my line ready. My advice for Hannah was - Never hesitate to start with the F word and make sure that everyone there knows that his name is wanker.

To Ignore Or Not To Ignore

I am not being too serious about it or taking it too far. I am just trying to value having such a clear and very straightforward chance to decide who can or can not walk into my life.

People may use Facebook for many different purposes. For me, it's all about sharing my PRIVATE life. Maybe I am self-obsessed. But just think it's equally rude for people to be a peeping Tom, make themselves at home in my life but NEVER even try to say hi after I accepted their 'friend' request.

I know there is privacy setting and there is also a button called "delete" in friends list. Trust me, I think some people may have found themselves getting lost on their way to my home now (if they try to.) But there are still some peeping Toms who swear never going to talk to me hiding in my friends list.

This evening I saw a new friend request on my Facebook. It's not at all a stranger. But since I can count with a single hand about how many sincere "Happy birthday!" I have received from the person during the past recent years, I can only assume that this 'friend' will not have the time and the energy to leave a comment when he sees the five-year-old me in my red bikini.

Problems must be solved from the root. Therefore, this time, about my pompous friends list, I decided to take action at the very beginning rather than grumbling and trimming it later.

Sorry! ("Ignore" button clicked.)

The Life-Changing Ten Months

The draft of this entry has been deleted and rewritten many times since I started this blog. Cos just thinking about the still vivid past and the disorientated future often make my fingers spend most their time being in a trance on the keyboard.

From junior high school to university, can't explain how my compass and my eyesight worked. The direction and the sign of my future were always clear to me - no professional or technical school, but high school, and then university and will definitely not choose English as my major.

None of my parents' opinions were involved at all. Not that I totally ignored their opinions. It's just I never really felt I would need them to tell me which way to go. It's like my everyday walk from home to school. On the way, attention and time could easily be distracted and wasted, but the crucial turn was just hard to be missed. It was as simple and nature as that. And the future even became more specific when I was at uni - to become a lawyer, just like most of my law school friends.

But after uni, the compass was somehow lost. And also, soon I suffered from one of the downsides of getting older - gradually deteriorating eyesight. Things became vague and it even got worse when I started my first and only full-time job I have had so far.

In 2005, I had my second job interview after only graduated from uni in a very short time. I remember I was trapped in a fancy library for about three hours to finish a paper test and for another 40 minutes for an interview. Finally, I left the impressive building with a free, cold and skinny chicken sandwich as lunch and an offer to work as a paralegal from next Monday.

It never occurred to the smug that it would turn out to be the longest and the darkest ten months of her life.

If people want to quickly get a picture of our life in the law firm. I will highly recommend the film, The Devil Wears Prada. For the people who haven't watched it, especially guys, I can assure you that it's not another chick flick. It's a documentary or a mental war film based on a true story!

Not sure it's the devil in my office acting on the silver screen, or simply just one of the many other devils in this world. One thing for sure about the common feature of the devils is a harsh tone and an icy look. And conventionally, even with the mahogany door firmly closed, it can still be loud and clear when the devil is yelling at someone in her office.

Moreover, under the devil's ruling, the clock ticked with a different sound. Time flies one hour a unit in the office to meet the format of the timesheet. Every entry of the timesheet must also accompany an equivalent work product. For example, 1079-01 0.2 Telephone conference with the officer of Patent Office about the patent application. It means I spent 12 minutes discussing a patent application for Client No. 1079-01. And the equivalent work product will be a short telephone conference report recording the conversation about it. This is how we charged our big company and celebrity clients with an hourly-rate bill. By how many chargeable hours we can provide from our own timesheet, it proves our value to the law firm.

There were times I worried about having an easy working day, since it would be difficult to fill the timesheet and come out with evidence to show how much I am worth.

In the law firm, 'freedom is slavery' is really being believed, since you will have your freedom once you become one of the senior partners. So, before achieving that, we have to endure being watched. By the devil. Through the timesheet.

Think people will still never get to imagine how tense our life could be, even when I share the private fact that Kevin, a junior lawyer, once shown me he got two coin-big areas on the back of his head that had no hair and I had already got my period missing for three months with no medical explanation then.

You may raise a question by now : why didn't you just quit if it's that stressful and painful? The answer is plain by looking at the past from now - cos I wasn't permitted. Not because of my supervisor, but myself.

In my generation, we are not only branded as "Generation Y" but also called "The Strawberry Generation" in Taiwan. The latter especially means an irresponsible generation that can't stand with pressure and will easily run away from challenges.

Turning in a resignation somehow meant to me was to admit my own failure and the rest of synonyms, to admit I was heavily knocked down with no teeth left in my mouth. Not to mention I would also be misunderstood and associated with the bad name that I always despise. Besides, it just wasn't that easy when you discovered and tried to face that the life was totally different from what you had pictured at uni. Hence, that's one of the reasons why I took an entrance exam to study for a master degree - to justify my resignation.

Luckily, I passed the exam and successfully got rid of the devil. But my dim future started to haunt me since then. To light the way to my future, I understand I need to be honest with myself and carefully listen to what I really want from my soul. But the process of it is like to consciously operate for myself.

It feels like I have to cut through every layer of my own skins, tissue and then bravely deep down to my bones to find out which cell or nerve goes wrong to blur my vision and also make me come up with so many questions : why can't I just like those 'normal' people who think some things will still be the same when you do it at the age of sixty after retire with my pension? And why can't I just accept that it will be a shortcut to things I want as long as I suffer for a relatively short time? Why am I being so serious about this? Why can't I be quiet not to ask so many questions? Why... Why.... And why.....?

While still being at the early stage of the operation, I think it is still too early to claim my breakup with law. The only two preliminary discoveries are : (1) Law firm will be the last choice of my future working place. (2) I am really not a pushover. I need MORE convincing answers than others about the questions above.

Another Guinness World Record?!

From Taipei Times - Taiwanese to kiss 100 men in Paris
English interview at the bottom of the page by Dan Bloom
The photos

Before Christina sent me the links above, I didn't notice it was on the news and had already had a storm-tide of viewers visiting her blog. Obviously Christina knew part of my appetite about news. The title did intrigued me and made me immediately gulped the links with my mouse. But after reading the article by Dan Bloom, I am...disappointed and worried.

The thing which disappoints and worries me is in the interview she said, as I quote, "now, a kiss seems like an amazing exchange of very interesting 'energy' for both the people kissing each other. That's what I've learned." If I were her ex-boyfriend, I would probably feel ashamed and then secretly try to find a cram school teaching about kissing or question if she had ever really loved me - is this something we need to spend two years living in Paris or to kiss 54 total strangers to know?!

Don't get me wrong. No matter what people think about her idea, I think the 27-year-old woman, Yang, is completely entitled to say it loud and proud that she did it for no reason but merely just a whim. And also about that's what she has learned. However, if it is going to be published as a book, her lack of purpose and a more creative enlightenment will greatly dilute my interest about the book and make me feel it is just like some of the Guinness World Records - it may mean a lot to the person who achieves a new record, but it brings and means almost nothing to me.

Before her coming book reveals her tips of how to break the ice when asking for a kiss from a stranger or shares with us that the exotic kisses will remove the shy and implicit character of we Chinese and make us be able to express the feelings more directly to the people we really love, I think I will tend to save the money to watch Daniel Craig being topless on the silver screen and walking in slow motion with his six packs and then passionately kiss the sexy Bond girl on the beach while the sun goes down.

The rainbow I miss

Last Saturday evening Gina and I took a casual cruise at Shida night-market before doing dinner together with Ivy. Usually the surroundings would be automatically switched to a muted mode when Gina and I hanged out together. Because our laughter, banter and oral reports of new developments of our recent life often became earplugs to block the rest of the sounds. But that evening, the voice from a radio programme from a small hair & beauty shop carried some powerful wind to blow away Gina's earplugs and thrust both of us into our own memory lane.

The radio programme might be called a Taiwanese version of Jeremy Vine's show on BBC Radio 2, which also talks about some hot topics of recent news . "Oh my God, I haven't listened to this programme since I came back. I think it's around 10 am in the UK right now" said Gina.

I have no idea how much an overseas phone call from the UK to my cell phone might cost, but according to the frequency Gina called me in 2007 during her last four months in the UK, I'll say it's pretty cheap. She was extremely suffering from homesick then. And the Taiwanese radio programme was her antibiotics to keep her temporarily healthy enough to count down her remaining days in the UK.

"Do you still remember the day we met at the coach station in Leeds? You know, your eyes couldn't look any smaller then," teasingly said Gina. "But seriously, even though we only spent three days together in the UK, you have no idea how glad I was to see you then." "I thought my eyes couldn't look any bigger! Since barely got any sleep on the plane and on the coach and met you at 5 am, it should be able to create double eyelids for me." I jokingly defended and repaid her a moved smile.

For the following three hours, my memory lane was clogged when having dinner with Ivy and Gina. But on my way home, it became smooth again. This time I walked into the scene of the opening night of demonstrating my pajamas to the UK. With a unique way to come on the stage, I was grinding my teeth in Gina's bed and sleeping with a letter "K" pose.

Due to my jet lag and lack of enough sleep, in the first formal evening in the UK I went to bed very early to review the beauty and hospitality of York that Gina and I discovered earlier that day. The mummy was well fixed in the "K" pose until Gina woke me up at about midnight. And I could tell from her serious face that it couldn't be about me invading her half of the bed or the noise my teeth had made.

"I only got two days left before going back to Taiwan and I found there were still soooooo many things to do before I leave. I even haven't collocated enough materials to bring back to Taiwan to complete my dissertation. Therefore, do you think tomorrow you can go to Manchester without me?" asked Gina. As a thoughtful, considerate and VERY sleepy friend, I told her "sure, of course" and then immediately and unconsciously back to my "K" pose.

The next day when I woke up in the early morning, I didn't know how to wake Gina up and told her I had been a somniloquist when I said yes to her last night. It would not be fine with me to go to Manchester by myself since I prepared nothing but relied on her to show me the city as we had discussed.

But, before I plowed a trench with my indecisive steps back and forth in Gina's room, I told myself that things couldn't be more frustrating and boring to wait until Gina wakes up or to find myself doing nothing in the end of my second day in the UK. Hence, "I am going to Manchester now. Let's have dinner together in the evening. E"- the note of me taking an adventure was stuck on Gina's laptop.

Follow the trail of my memory breadcrumbs of how Gina took me to York the day before and with some helps from a police officer, I got myself safely and smoothly to Manchester. That morning, outside of Manchester Piccadilly Station, the sky was painted with my mood - a widely spread of uneasy damp grey and a few gentle brushes of exciting white.

Not like my rest of well-planned days in the UK, Gina's sudden absence made me become duckweed and had no choice but drifted forward with the tide of the crowds. Don't know if it has anything to do with being a Law School student for many years. I was trained and used to put things into order or an organized plan. But at that time I even found the map from the Information Centre at the railway station was useless since three people I had asked all couldn't point out where I was and they included a guard from Primark. Time just couldn't crawl any slower then.

But strangely, the more I breathed in the slightly chilly air of the day, the more relaxed I became. And the air also brought my previous expectations about the whole journey back to me. Wasn't this just a part of what I had hoped for - to take a rest and have a cup of tea whenever and wherever I want and have time to watch how people walk, drink and laugh in this country!

I started to realize how rare the chance might be for me to quietly monopolize the view from a small cabin of the big wheel behind Manchester Arndale. And sometimes maybe being lonely is the beginning of being not lonely. Because as I was alone visiting Manchester Cathedral, a warm old British lady unexpectedly approached me and offered me a free guide about the cathedral. That afternoon I was taught a new point of view of getting lost and how to get along with a sense of feeling disoriented.

Even though I missed the announcement of the platform's changing and took the wrong train, back to Leeds I was still early enough to catch the dinner with Gina. Gina told me we were invited by her friends to have some simple dinner together at their flat.

The pizzas and the roasted chicken were well served with my story happened at the coach station at the airport. Gina's friends were amazed by my experience that the British old man sat next to me on the plane bought me a cookie and a cup of tea and left me with his business card for emergent help and also some coins to make phone calls to make sure I would be picked up in Leeds.

Chewing my pizza at the same time with their jealous exclamations of why they had never had this kind of luckiness during the past year in the UK, my focus and my mind were contentedly zooming out to the rainbow hanging outside of the window. I think the journey was destined to be beautiful and memorable.

Long time no see, beach!

For a few minutes my mind went completely blank when I took Ho and his friend's invitation to be a beach girl this Sunday afternoon. It was because the word "Beach" has disappeared in the dictionary in my mind for one or two years. I had tried, but still couldn't recall a vivid image the last time my feet were seasoned with a lot of finely ground black pepper after walking along the seaside.

The only beckoned memory was Ho was shining and popular when we studied at Law school. He played basketball for the basketball team of our Law school and also formed a band and became a leading singer of it. And apparently after not seeing him for quite a while, these days he has developed a new interest of going surfing during the weekend. And Ho's friend, Lin, was his high school classmate and used to be the drummer of Ho's band.

It was Lin's first time going surfing. I found it amusing when Ho told Lin how to carry a surfing board. Is a surfing board to man like a Hermès handbag to woman that there's a specific way to hold it to make you look posh?!

Today's waves were not suitable for surfing so we spent a lot of time sitting at the shallow part of the seashore and chatting under a foldable shed shared by a group of hospitable guys. Those guys were in their early thirties and were very friendly. They not only prevented us from getting sun burned, but also recharged our battery by providing snacks and beers.


Those guys were pretty creative since they made a crocodile (or a bad fish you might call) with sand. And just when I was going to compliment about their artistry, two of the guys started to discuss how about making a huge poo behind the tail of the crocodile - Ohhhhh, grow up, men!

Anyway, I stopped them from making the poo and had a very relaxing afternoon.

The academic dinner

After Jimmy announced he's going to tie the knot in the end of this year, the Saturday dinner was immediately turned into a symposium of "Two People, Or Two Family - The Difficulty When Planning A Wedding." And, of course, Jimmy was the main presenter and the rest of my schoolmates and I became inquisitive commentators.

The sweet news from Jimmy also proofed his heart has become seamless now. More than two years ago, Jimmy was deeply in love with a girl and they had been living with each other for almost two years. One day while everything seemed alright and he was at work, without any notice in advance, the girl called and told him that she had already packed her things and moved out. There was no the other man between them and no clear explanation about the sudden breakup. For the following months, Jimmy was looking like a living zombie.

But, after such a sudden and deep stab into one's heart, now look at Jimmy and the girl he's holding hand with! Obviously the zombie has already reincarnated and lives in the seventh heaven.

Although Jimmy just started to plan the wedding for about four months, it's long enough to make him talk like a prestigious eighty-year-old professor. From the traditional customs of the whole wedding to the reception, there were so many times Jimmy said it's not something I can decide when I told him what I want or what I think about it. I didn't say something like I want to wear a puffy dress and get married in Disneyland. But the reply from Jimmy sometimes made me feel daunting in a certain degree.

I won't call myself a feminist since think men and women can never be equal in so many ways. To me, the key point is always about respect. But feel there are some traditional customs of a wedding that contradict my belief and emotion.

For example,
1. On the wedding day, the mum of the bride has to splash a basin of water to the road after the groom comes to pick up the bride from her place and the daughter officially leaves the house. It symbolizes the daughter is like the splashed water - she belongs to another family from the moment.

I love my family. I just don't like the hidden idea that once you get married, you'll have to cut the connection with your family even it only has a symbolic meaning. Besides, I am confident that my love is big enough for my future and current family members to share.

2. After getting in a limo, the bride has to throw away a hand-held fan from the window which represents she will abandon all her bad temper to start a new family.

I fully agree it should be encouraged if we try to make ourself become a better person. But can my future husband be that perfect that I am the only person who has bad temper to throw away? If I need to throw away a hand-held fan, can I ask him to do the same thing with me?

Jenny said she has never thought about the meanings of all these customs. Jimmy said they are just some customs and I shouldn't take them too far. Besides, as an expert of a wedding planner, he emphasised again that sometimes they are not something I can decide - the parents of the groom might feel offended if I don't do so.

I still admire the culture within a wedding. But just can't stop thinking at the same time if some customs are really that unbreakable or can't be omitted, especially when people don't even think about the meaning of the customs.

Maybe they are really something I can not decide. But Jimmy, at least I can decide how much money I am going to put in the red envelope to give it to you.

Asking A Woman's Phone Number For Dummies : Taiwan Edition

No matter how instant and convenient a man can meet a woman through the internet, the old fashion way to meet a woman in the street is never really forgotten.

But, without a virtual flower, heart or any other emoticons to send, in real world some men's ability to ask a woman's phone number in the street when he wants to know her seems to backtrack to a single-celled organism. Tonight I feel obligated and commissioned to bring those men back to Darwinism. So, guys, here are my advice. Listen up!

1. NO! NO! NO! Never ever just pop up a line like this, "errr...can you give me your phone number?" Are you a policeman or what?! Be patient and polite!

2. Yes, you want her to stop, but suddenly park your motorcycle and block her way, believe me, it's not a glamorous way to come on the stage, especially when she is wearing her earphone listening to her music and walking with very impatient pigeon's steps on her way home.

3. Wearing a suit will add about 50 points for you, but, remember, the total points will be 1000. Besides, I know you might still be on your motorcycle, but still wearing your helmet when you are talking to the woman is like talking while still having your food in your mouth - good friends won't mind at all, but to a potential friend, 500 points will be lost even before you speak!

4. Don't chicken out at the crucial moment when the woman stops and looks at you. Be a man!

5. Will you make friend with a person you don't even know his/her name? Mind you, you are no more than a total stranger who makes her stop alone in the middle of a dusky lane. Unless you want to hear "fuck off" - introduce yourself first!

6. Not only be a man, but also be a gentleman - don't forget to say "thank you" even when she turns you down determinately.

Although I hope my advice will be helpful, I'm not confident about it at all. I doubt I'll give my phone number to a stranger even he takes all the advice. Maybe I need a book called "Giving Phone Number To A Man For Dummies."

A could-not-be-more-true nightmare

Taiwan mudslide survivors found
Taiwan rescue effort continues
People crying to President Ma for help
People crying for witnessing their own house being washed away

This is absolutely the last way I want my country to be noticed to the world. And sadly these videos only present small ripples of the lives that people in the south of Taiwan have at the moment.

Compare to the northern capital city, Taipei, the southern part of this small island is really like another country. Besides the consecutive heavy rain in the afternoon during these two days, there's nothing really changed or damaged in Taipei. In fact, the only difference I can directly feel is just fewer choices of vegetables that I can have in a restaurant.

Being a capital city, the safeness is not surprising at all. But after watching the news these days, it will be hard not to wonder and worry if the capital city has become the only city the government cares about.

During my dinner break at cram school this evening, I shared my table at a cheap buffet restaurant with a middle-age woman sitting opposite me. While watching the news as our side dish, I could see clearly that those despairing and helpless faces on TV painted the corners of the woman's eyes red and made her eyes moist.

Although the vivid images on TV these days were plenty enough to swallow me up easily, my mind still went completely blank when I tried to imagine any of my family member is missing or the most valuable property, our apartment, which is almost everything mum and dad have earned for all their lives becomes mounds of mud.

Hope President Ma's government will run as fast as his last name suggests and also hope they can learn a lesson from it that when Taipei is safe and fine, it doesn't mean the whole island is safe and fine!

From Point A to Point C

The remaining effect of leaving a comment on my friend Gary's blog about quitting a job makes my bleached past and uncertain future hovering in my head during these few days.

After my graduation from university, I have only had one full-time job experience which lasted for about eight months in a law firm. How was it? Well, to make it short, what I can tell you is all units in the world for measuring will never be big or heavy enough to describe the pressure I had.

The image is still vivid when the junior lawyer Kevin who had been working in the law firm for ten months showed me the three fingernail-size areas on the back of his head that had no hair. While Kevin paid the price to keep his decent office with losing some hair, I defended my pride and expectations about my first real job with the price of having my period late for more than three months without any explanations after some medical checks. It is definitely the longest eight months in my life.

Even though this segment of my memory is too bitter to swallow and will be buried deeply at the darkest corner in my head, I seldom feel regretful about accepting the job. Because it made me rethink about what a job really means to me and what kind of life I might really want. If to explain it with my philosophy, the eight months were an inevitable and necessary "Point B" that I needed to pass through in my life journey, or I can't become who I am now.

My best friend Gina, who went to the same law school with me has depressingly yelled at her parents to stop expecting her to become a lawyer when we graduated from university. She firmly claimed she really had no interest in it. But after receiving a master degree in Marketing from Leeds University and came back to Taiwan in 2007, she recaptured her passion for becoming a lawyer and decided to go to a cram school to prepare for it. Many people consider it was totally a waste of time and money for Gina doing a master degree in Marketing in the UK. But somehow I can understand it. It's just Gina's "Point B."

After walking on some unexpected and winding roads of my life journey during the past few years, sometimes I really believe before reaching the goal of our life or finding what we really want to find, we need to go somewhere or do something else first, even we don't plan to. And now think the next thing I need to learn is to appreciate the scenery during the journey from Point B to Point C.