Words of Innocence and Experience

It is the end of the year. This is what I always do around this time of the year–recalling the significant occurences. So here is the list:

1. The tragic incident of being scammed
2. Getting a driver’s liscense
3. Becoming slightly prettier
4. My escapade with G
5. My fixation on Depeche Mode
6. The departure of Professor Jones and Professor Lei, the retirement of Professor Yeh
7. The various disasters around the globe
8. Another trophy as the student with the highest scores
9. The tighter relationship with friends/classmates
10. The release of DM’s album “Playing the Angel”

I’m still thinking about what this blog should focus on. There are millions of blogs on the net right now and there is nothing special about this one. Also, some of the blogs have a consistent subject matter.

Perhaps I need more time to think about what I should focus on. It will definitely be one of my New Year’s resolutions.

To everyone who happens to come to this page, thanks for stopping by!

I had a turbulent Christmas. Literally, Christmas Day has not arrived yet, but everyone in my university had the celebration spirit on Friday (yesterday).

I had planned several activities to participate in as celebration. When I was a teenager, I didn’t care even though I had to spend the special holiday with my mom or by myself. Now that I’m 20, I started to feel the desire to celebrate, for some reason.

If you read my blog entries last January, you can see there is one person whom I’d love to spend the day with. He, however, has no interest in me. In order to prevent embarrassment of being rejected, I told Amy that I was going to the school dancing party with her.

Yet, I had ordered holiday chocolate for the guy. With the approaching of Christmas, my heart fluttered with the possibilities I could have with him. I still cannot make sure whether I truly like him. We’ve only met for, say, five times or so and barely spoke to each other. Although I may understand him since he posts everything on his mind on his personal board, he doesn’t know me.

Somehow I had overcome my shyness and restrictions. After three days of struggling, I finally tricked him into asking me out. I was on cloud nine.

I told Amy I couldn’t go to the dancing party with her then. She didn’t mind and seemed happy to know that there is some guy.

Fighting with my shyness had strong mental impacts on me. I couldn’t sleep at night and could not eat much. I was self-conscious about my appearance. He complained that I was not pretty in the past. Shallow and stupid guy, eh? I have become considerably prettier this semester; still, I wanted to impress him. I borrowed a gorgeous coat and a bag from my chic roommate and applied intricate but not flashy make-up. Seven also convinced me to set up my hair for the day.

He invited me to go to a terrible school movie with him on Friday (yesterday). When I woke up yesterday morning, my disturbed mood had been appeased. I wanted to be spontaneous and charming. I did not know that yesterday was one of the days that I will never forget all my life.

I received his mail at 9:30 yesterday morning. He told me that he decided to drag another guy with him to the movies. Also, he was going to have dinner with his friends so that he had to leave right after the movie was over.

I rarely felt so incensed. I was angry that he thought so little of me. Although not seen by others, I have sacrificed a lot to be this forward, asking him out, giving him gifts, etc. What has he done to me in return? Also, what could I say to the other guy (his friend)? Was he trying to flaunt to everyone that I was chasing after him?

Everyone around me suggested that I give up on him, not going to the movies. But I need to make him see me. Thus, I would go to the place where we decided to meet, saying hello and leaving. I wanted to drag a friend with me as well.

However, no one could go with me. Most of my friends went home. Others were occupied on other occasions. Besides, no one would go to the dancing party since I told everyone I was not going.

I wore the gorgeous coat, took the beautiful bag, and had the cute hairstyle, looking pretty but alone and angry. How could everyone do so to me? I had planned for the day for a week, and now…

I left my dorm at 5:30. Our dating time was 5:50, but I was tired of sitting in my dorm doing nothing. I wandered around the auditorium, not knowing what to do. Afraid that he would see me so disturbed, I hid myself behind the trees, looking anxiously at the auditorium.

Suddenly, a guy came and stood there. I thought I was expecting two guys (he and his friend), so I ignored the person. He doesn’t look like him, anyway. After several minutes, he was still there. I grew curious so I came out from behind the trees to see him more clearly.

Mine, it was really him! Where was the other guy, I dared not ask.

“Hello,” I managed. He looked great, better than I had imagined him. I have never seen him with black-framed glasses, which made him mysterious and smart-looking. In the dim light, I could not tell the color of his coat or his bag. His posture, contrary to his shy temperament and foolish nature, was calm and confident.

“Hi,” he said. “Let’s get the tickets first, and…”

“Er, I…” nervously, I cut him off. “Look, my high school classmate suddenly came today and I’ve gotta go. I’m sorry.” Then I took out the Santa Claus candy bar I had saved for him out of my roommate’s beautiful bag. “Merry Christmas,” I said.

He took the candy from my trembling hand. “Thanks. Oh, I’ve received the chocolate, too, in the fourth period this morning.” He took the chocolate from inside his bag and showed it to me. It was so tiny. I suddenly felt ashamed that I had used the mysterious gift to trick him into asking me out.

“So,” he said, “you had other things to do later?”

“Um…” I struggled whether I should tell the truth or not. Yet my sanity prevailed. “Yeah,” I said, after a short pause, “sorry about that.”

“It’s OK,” he replied, smiling. I suddenly found his slightly misshaped teeth so endearing. “Maybe another day, then.”

“Sure,” I smiled, too, wondering if my delicate appearance had left an impression on his mind. “So, bye bye.”

“Bye,” he said, then entering the auditorium. As soon as I had my back on him, my face twisted, regretting that I had rejected him. It took me a lot to have him out, and I just let him go so easily.

I virtually ran away from the auditorium. Then I bumped into my professor, Guy.

“Hey, Debby, ” he said, with the always overly vivacious smile. “Where are you going?”

“I’m going out of the campus.” I blurbed. It was true. Where else could I go, then? “I had a bad day!”

“Oh,” he was still smiling. It was rare for him not to smile, anyway. “But you look like you’re ready for something big.”

Yes, I was ready for something big, but I’d ruined it myself. Through our walking out of the campus, I told Guy (not in detail, of course) how all my plans collapsed and how upset I felt. He must have thought that I was hysterical. Oh, well, who cares?

Strolling on the “Snacks’ Streets” outside of the campus, strong clarity struck me that he didn’t mean to shame me by inviting his friend and abandoning me after the movie. I was angry with him all day long, but I guess the rage dissolved after I saw him. Moreover, his friend was not there. Did he change his mind again and was willing to watch the movie only with me? What did he mean by “so you have other things to do later?”

I’ve lost him with my pride and skepticism. I know he hates people who are not punctual or turn down on him on the settled appointments. Perhaps it was also his fault. It was rude for him to suddenly let me down on the special day. Foolish as he is, he probably did not understand how he would hurt me through his actions.

After wandering aimlessly, I returned to the dorm again. I phoned Erica and told her that I needed someone to see my hair. I could not stand releasing it so early without being seen by many people. Two hours later, I went out with her and purchased a new set of blush (for my face).

It was a memorable “the day before Christmas Eve.”

I cannot live with you,
It would be life,
And life is over there
Behind the shelf
–Emily Dickinson

I guess I really like him, then. But we cannot be with each other. Our thoughts operate in different directions. There are doomed to be more miscommunications if I interact with him more. Besides, I am going to graduate (one year early) and am supposed to work on my career plans.

*You were handsome, G. You wrote so on your board, you conceited fool! But it was true. You know it and I know it. Please, tell me that I was pretty, too.*

My joy
The blood in my veins
My joy
Flows in your name
My joy
You move me
–Depeche Mode “My Joy”

Christmas is coming! Although it is a Western holiday, Taiwanese people has possessed the mood for celebration for years. Perhaps due to aging, I’m dying for some celebration this year. When I was a teenager, I was not sorry having no special activity on this wonderful day.

Who should I celebrate with? Where can I go? Random, foolish thoughts ran wild in my head during the past few days. In this tumultuous state, I’ve let down my gurad and did a few daring things which I’d definitely shy away from last year.

Then I returned to my dorm, eyelids drooping, mind weary, I listened to Depeche Mode. Gee, their music is neat!

The music never fails to uplift me, console me, and inspire me. No matter what this Christmas would turn out to be, I know I can always have a Black Celebration with the Modemen.

To the ones who celebrate Christmas with genuine grateful spirits (not following the trend like people here), merry Christmas!!!

A dull picture I drew just a while ago.

I know it’s early but Merry Christmas to my fellow family, freinds, and my reader.
Hope you receive lots of gifts!

And I will go down on my knees
When I see beauty
There’s no doubt
I’m one of the devout
–Depeche Mode “Sacred”

I went to the movie “King Kong’ last night with Mom. Frankly speaking, I was not very interested in it when the news of its relases was spread out. I’m not a big fan of “monster films,” anyway. However, Mom showed immense excitement at the movie, and I was dragged to the cinema by her.

One thing that hindered my willingness to go was that I was afraid that King Kong would look like Lord of the Rings due to the director Peter Jackson. Fortunately, King Kong was not so epic-like; at the beginning of the movie, I was amazed by the classical feel and the crises each character faces, leading to their journey to “Skull Island.”

WARNING: The following contains spoilers.

King Kong is a thriller. It has suitable, not too showy special effects. The scenes of human beings struggling with Kong, dinosauers, and other creatures are pretty exciting, if a little grusome. Kong’s battle with the dinosauers are thrilling and at the same time quite endearing. Some viewers complained that some action scenes are out of place and unnecessary. Perhaps so. But I can see that the movie tries to capture more audience through them.

King Kong is an emotional flick. Carl (played by Jack Blake), originally an over-ambitious movie director, turns into a greedy businessman at the awesome presence of Kong, thinking how big a fortune he can make through it. Kong is taken to the city, chained and shackled. At the same time, it develops an affection for Ann (played by Naomi Watts), and in a way, the love leads it to destruction. I knew my sympathy for Kong and disgust for human beings are deliberately aroused by the movie makers; still, I was teary-eyed in the end.

Rating: 8.5/10

Click on the thumbnails for larger pics on Flickr

Early one morning, I was roused by the thumping of the washing machine operating. Rubbing my eyes, Mother’s endless pacing in the living room relentlessly rushed into my ears.

“Mom,” I groaned, “it’s only 7:30. It’s Sunday and I wanna get up late.”

“No,” said Mother, her voice lacking the sleepy blurriness in mine, “I’m used to getting up at this hour, and you are, too. Get yourself ready and let’s go to the market.”

Mother is an indefatigable woman. Unlike most insomnia sufferers, she is not troubled by her sleeplessness by taking sleeping pills. Rather, the energy which merely a little sleep has brought her makes her both amused and oddly satisfied.

Her favorite recreation is shopping. I used to be extremely bored when I was dragged to various department stores and cosmetics shops when I was a little girl. Conversely, I have grown to like it with my aging and a growing concern for my appearance. Even studying in university now, I return to Taichung every weekend to go shopping with Mother, since I am the only child, and she, my only parent.

However, one thing bothers me immensely whenever I go out with Mother.

“Are you sisters?” the salesperson would ask when Mother and I skim through all the neat tops on sale.

“Why, you flatter me too much!” Mother would laugh heartily, the sides of her mouth twisting into a cordial smile. “We are mother and daughter, obviously.”

“Oh, but you look so young!” the clerk gaped.

Stunned by the frequency of hearing such compliments on Mother, I began to worry if I really looked older than I really was.

“When people comment that you and I look like sisters, they’re praising my youthful look rather than ridiculing that you look old,” assured Mother, seemingly sensing my insecurity, but soon, returning to her usual biting tone, “stop feeling sorry for yourself, you little ignoramus!”

Mother is a petite and slander woman. Her slim figure, on which she takes pride, compels her to check out the items in children’s clothing from time to time. Even with the 26-year age gap, she buys the same styles of clothes as I do, although most middle-aged women shy from wearing colorful and young-looking attires.

“I have the right to wear whatever I like,” she insists. “Besides, I don’t look half ugly in them.”

At her late 40s, her slim figure, childish curiosity, graceful movements (being a consummate dancer), and vivacious temperament make her charming for people around her. Time and experience have been eradicating her caprice, yet she is still ill-tempered and bitter whenever she is displeased. With the tendency to be careless and awkward, I am often victimized to Mother’s ill temper. Before the outburst of her rage, I always see the dreadful warning signs: her eyes turning wide, refilled with malice, her brows rising and knitted, her hollow cheeks full with her mouth agape, ready to hurl a retort. With her tiny frame, it is incredible for others to believe how powerful Mother’s yells can be, yet I never cease to be frightened by Mother’s precarious temper management and her bitter tongue.

“You stupid fool!” she cursed. “You are not good at doing nothing!”

“But, Mom, I just fail this one time…”

“One time?” she shouted violently. “You’ve failed many times and never learn!”

Her irritation and whim, surprisingly, are attractions for men. The guardian of the apartment where we live in, fascinated by her unique manners, often brings us fruits and tea leaves. Mother is a skillful social butterfly when interacting with people. She smiles, jokes around, and talks with good nature. When men are around Mother, I can feel the attraction Mother holds for them and how she manipulates their hearts.

However, Mother is not truly interested in trapping men as her captives. One miserable marriage has already shattered all her dreamy love fantasies. Moreover, a free spirit probably should not be caged in neither a relationship nor a marriage.

“In a way,” she said wistfully once, “I’m glad that your father isn’t around. I’m just not the type of person who would give herself all in a serving and pleasing her husband.”

As my memory serves, Father has never taken care of Mother and me. When I was a little girl, I seldom saw him since he had usually gone out for business or drinking. Bad-tempered as Mother is, I had witnessed them bickering fiercely with each other. As a little girl, I always burst into tears and ran between them.

“Stop fighting, please!” I begged, with tears rolling down my face.

Unfortunately, Father is an awful businessman and an irresponsible nuisance. Leaving his debts behind, debtors used to come to our old house all the time. Mother, after dealing with them with all her cunning and charms, cursed in exasperation, her gorgeous blouse stained with angry tears.
Eventually, Father left Taiwan and cast us out of his life for good. The house was in pawn to pay for Father’s debts. In the long, hot summer days, Mother rode on her motorcycle, carrying me, as we searched desperately for a dwelling place from one street to another.

“It’s hot,” I was already in school then, my mind clear as an excellent student. “Why are we going around the neighborhood like this? When can we stop?”

“Shut up!” Mother silenced me with her snap. “Do you want to be homeless? We must find an apartment to live in. It can’t be too far from the neighborhood. If we live too far away from here, you can’t ride a bike to school and there’ll be a lot more trouble to handle.”

I observed her through the rear-view mirror then. Her eyes were resolute, her expression apathetic but firm. Her skinny back looked quite fragile under the sinister sun, yet it stood straight. In the brief moment, I wondered if I was able to grapple with the mishap with such composure and confidence.

Finally, we did find a new house. We survived.

“You’ll never understand how happy I am to live in this house,” she said, her expression softened and merry. “I feel so free here, away from the control of your father and your grandma.”

It was freedom for her, perhaps, but not freedom for me. I will always be under her reins. Still, she is the only person who is always there for me and puts me on a pedestal.

“You will come home next weekend, right?” she asks me whenever I go home for the weekend. “We can go to Chung-Yo Department Store. I see a nice dress on their catalogue. Oh,” she points to a picture, “and the skirt should fit you.”

“Sure,” I answer, “I always go home. You needn’t to ask.”

Despite all the barricades and misfortunes Mother and I have gone through, we never fail to stay strong. We both belong to the unbeatable species in the world, yet Mother will always surpass me in her allure, charisma, dominance, and persistence. She is my compass star, my inescapable fate.

I’m not going down on my knees
Begging you to adore me
Can’t you see it’s misery
And torture for me
–Depeche Mode “Shake the Disease”

If I told you that I’m attracted to you
Would you tell me you feel the same way too?
If I told you that it was love at first sight
Would you be right here by my side?

But you would not
The bells ringing
The tasks calling
The games enticing
You have no time
For me

I would not beg you to stay
Instead of having a blithe bird caged
I will watch you fly away

And when I go there
I go there with you
It’s all I can do
–U2 “Where the Streets Have No Name”

I just returned from a little trip to Northern Taiwan. Unfortunately, I could not see the photos until this weekend. Perhaps I’d upload a few pictures later. Stay tuned.

Early Saturday morning, I got on the bus with Mom and her co-workers to Taipei. The weather was fair in Taichung but worsened considerably as we traveled northward. Our first destination was a temple in Taoyuan. There was nothing spectacular about the temple in its appearance, but it had stood there through the test of time. Mom was delighted to have bought a purple purse from the street vendors there.

When we arrived at the “Gold Museum,” it was raining cats and dogs. Therefore, nearly everyone bought umbrellas from a small store nearby. I’ll add the picture to this post when the photo was ready.

The museum records the history of Taiwan’s short mining industry. It also contains artworks of gold and introductions to various ores. The view outside of the museum was spectacular. Here’s a poor representation of the view I found on Google.

The residence of an old Japanese minister was there, too. Taiwan had been colonized by Japan for 50 years. The Japanese minister didn’t get to live in the ‘mansion,’ though. Before he was appoined to the post, China had won the World War Two.

In the evening we settled down in a hotel with hot springs in Yangmingshan. It was a small inn rather than a quality hotel, so the equipment inside the rooms was poor. For personal reasons, I could not enjoy the hot springs then. It was cold and the sound of people singing karaoke could be heard from our room on the first floor. I had a sleepless night there.

We went to “The Miniature’s Paradise” the next day. I had been there before when I was a little child. Nothing had changed much. I still find the miniatures of the household eractions around the world endearing.

Here comes the point. Did I enjoy the trip? Probably. From this trip, I started to realize that whom I am traveling with matters. I had no connections with Mom’s co-workers, most of whom revels in eating, karaoke, and chatting. I am still at the age of vanity, so I care about my figure and do not wish to overeat. Karaoke is fun sometimes, but one of Mom’s co-workers is a superb singer and I do not want to lose my face in front of her. Finally, I had little interest in the topics of their talks.

It was great that I could get to travel to someplace, though. Next time when I go on a trip, I’ll go with you. Who are you? Write to me. Call me. Whatever.