Here’s my stab at a post in English. It is so pathetic that I could only feel comfortable writing that dry french – business french is what my prof would like to call it.
Life isn’t actually so miserable despite some mishaps. My soul is forgotten at a corner of a room with not a trace of what I desire. My soul is like a crunched up ball of paper that was once used to be a draft for a pencil-sketch and now forgotten to be recycled.
Questions you might have for me:
1) Um, why are you married to this girl named Tiffany Ho on facebook?
Yes, it’s a lame fb relationship. She is the president of the Ballroom dancing club, for which I occupy the post of treasurer. How I got involved was last summer when I joined the club as a joke to spite someone. There’s too much drama in this club – a really melodramatic version of Karlee-me falling-out from grade 12. The moral of this story, for me actually, in a nutshell, is that I still haven’t learned how to put my energy to good use with people whose hearts are at the same place as mine.
2) What’s this dealio with your mother?
Basically, business is haywire. Lawsuits are tumours to your wallet, your family and your own life. They might not be detrimental to your life in the long run but the quality of your life at the moment is definitely affected.
A little side note from dictionary.com, out of my own curiosity:
The term is first recorded as a noun in a debate in the Canadian House of Commons (1917), so it is a Canadianism[...]
Anyways, fortunately she’s found a new product that she’ll be introducing to the market in China. I don’t like the concept of it, however. Think of a box. A metal box. About the size of a mini-refrigerator. Now this little box sucks in air and spits out (okay, fine, release) clean air for you. It is sensible to have one maybe in an apartment in urban city locations only due to the air pollution, smoke, carbon dioxide… but that’s taking us further away from any notion of cleaning the environment in the greater sense. It’s saying – let’s just clean up the space where my bodies must cross on a daily basis, so that would be our homes, our working space, schools, a giant shopping mall, maybe some fancy fine-dining restaurants, movie theater and car dealerships. It’s like we had an ocean and now we’re choosing to go into a fish tank. Goldfish only grow as big as allowed by the size of their fish tank. Jumping out of the fish tank will be suicidal when their bodies are accustomed to the filtered air. What else is there left to filter?
3) So how are you managing?
Well, I thought about what Irene suggested – concerning my antsy energy, my dissatisfaction with school and life/lack of hobbies in general. Unfortunately, what I would like to do – photography, dancing, singing, maybe badminton lessons – are all $$ and thus out of the option.
Here’s what I have done, plan to do/ Daniella, Beth and Mike should force me to do:
- when the class was practicing to write une lettre de commande (ordering certain items or services in a letter form), I chose to order a stripper, a belly dancer and a fire-eater for a year-end party. Thanks Office. That gave me two hours of ab workout.
- every morning I go on BBC. My favourites: when they provide short excerpts from different journals from different states/countries to show their perspective on one subject; when they provide the profile on a country. I dropped Geo but I’d still like to learn about the world in my own way.
- I really need to start reading – french english chinese. BC tea collective leaves: book club/ gathering/ movie every Monday? Sunday? Let’s decide on a day. I need to lovely human contact weekly, please. Dying please.
- Toast with nutella.
I love you and I apologize for being incommunicado for periods of time.
