Let it be

听模范情书

看volatile paper

Ames一下子变得很冷，寒流来袭么？好像冬天就要来了。

这一句好象向左走向右走的啊 

偶刚才睡不着呜呜

好，现在去呼

小妞今天送我一盆花嘿嘿 

今天有饭缘。连走在路上都被人喊要不要吃BBQ chicken呵呵

Lu小朋友很可爱，象说相声似的，肢体动作特丰富，比如我包的饺子，就张开双臂。。。

租5次，出了4次问题。哈哈

还说我象个小天使，每次都捧束花，或者捧个书

笑死我了 

奥沙日文☑男☑80后☑没女朋友☑没钱☑没房☑没车☑没貌☑没个儿☑没身材☑没毕业☑没职业

所以么算了不能怪我

改ppp！ 邪乎一点的说我突然觉得生活有了寄托哈哈好奋特

At a fundraising dinner for a school that serves learning-disabled children, the father of one of the students delivered a speech that would never be forgotten by all who attended. After extolling the school and its dedicated staff, he offered a question: "When not interfered with by outside influences, everything nature does is done with perfection. Yet my son, Shay, cannot learn things as other children do. He cannot understand things as other children do. Where is the natural order of things in my son?"

The audience was stilled by the query.

The father continued. "I believe that when a child like Shay, physically and mentally handicapped comes into the world, an opportunity to realize true human nature presents itself, and it comes in the way other people treat that child."

Then he told the following story:

Shay and his father had walked past a park where some boys Shay knew were playing baseball. Shay asked, "Do you think they’ll let me play?" Shay’s father knew that most of the boys would not want someone like Shay on their team, but the father also understood that if his son were allowed to play, it would give him a much-needed sense of belonging and some confidence to be accepted by others in spite of his handicaps.

Shay’s father approached one of the boys on the field and asked (not expecting much) if Shay could pl ay. The boy looked around for guidance and said, "We’re losing by six runs and the game is in the eighth inning. I guess he can be on our team and we’ll try to put him in to bat in the ninth inning."

Shay struggled over to the team’s bench and, with a broad smile, put on a team shirt. His Father watched with a small tear in his eye and warmth in his heart. The boys saw the father’s joy at his son being accepted. In the bottom of the eighth inning, Shay’s team scored a few runs but was still behind by three. In the top of the ninth inning, Shay put on a glove and played in the right field. Even though no hits came his way, he was obviously ecstatic just to be in the game and on the field, grinning from ear to ear as his father waved to him from the stands. In the bottom of the ninth inning, Shay’s team scored again. Now, with two outs and the bases loaded, the potential winning run was on base and Shay was scheduled to be next at bat.

At this juncture, do they let Shay bat and give away their chance to win the game? Surprisingly, Shay was given the bat. Everyone knew that a hit was all but impossible because Shay didn’t even know how to hold the bat properly, much less connect with the ball.

However, as Shay stepped up to the plate, the pitcher, recognizing that the other team was putting winning aside for this moment in Shay’s life, moved in a few steps to lob the ball in softly so Shay could at least make contact. The first pitch came and Shay swung clumsily and missed.

The pitcher again took a few steps forward to toss the ball softly towards Shay. As the pitch came in, Shay swung at the ball and hit a slow ground ball right back to the pitcher.

The game would now be over. The pitcher picked up the soft grounder and could have easily thrown the ball to the first baseman. Shay would have been out and that would have been the end of the game.

Instead, the pitcher threw the ball right over the first baseman’s head, out of reach of all team mates. Everyone from the stands and both teams started yelling, "Shay, run to first! Run to first!" Never in his life had Shay ever run that far, but he made it to first base. He scampered down the baseline, wide-eyed and startled.

Everyone yelled, "Run to second, run to second!" Catching his breath, Shay awkwardly ran towards second, gleaming and struggling to make it to the base. By the time Shay rounded towards second base, the right fielder had the ball … the smallest guy on their team who now had his first chance to be the hero for his team. He could have thrown the ball to the second-baseman for the tag, but he understood the pitcher’s intentions so he, too, intentionally threw the ball high and far over the third-baseman’s head. Shay ran toward third base deliriously as the runners ahead of him circled the bases toward home.

All were screaming, "Shay, Shay, Shay, all the Way Shay"

Shay reached third base because the opposing shortstop ran to help him by turning him in the direction of third base, and shouted, "Run to third! Shay, run to third!"

As Shay rounded third, the boys from both teams, and the spectators, were on their feet screaming, "Shay, run home! Run home!" Shay ran to home, stepped on the plate, and was cheered as the hero who hit the grand slam and won the game for his team.

"That day," said the father softly with tears now rolling down his face, "the boys from both teams helped bring a piece of true love and humanity into this world."

Shay didn’t make it to another summer. He died that winter, having never forgotten being the hero and making his father so happy and coming home and seeing his Mother tearfully embrace her little hero of the day!

May your day, be a Shay Day.

"Don’t urge me to leave you or to turn back from you. Where you go I will go, and where you stay I will stay. Your people will be my people and your God my God. Where you die I will die, and there I will be buried. May the LORD deal with me, be it ever so severely, if anything but death separates you and me."  (Ruth 1:16)

有时的感觉

不知道默默无闻属于我呢？还是应该flashy一些 

The Imperfect Traces Left by Human Hands

I am a child of the digital age, but I believe in analog.

I love the hiss and pop of vinyl, and the black splotch in the corner when a movie changes reels. I enjoy the hushed, uneven ticking of a windup watch. I love handwriting.

I believe in analog because it captures the imperfect traces left behind by human hands—smudges and echoes that can’t disappear with the touch of a delete key.

I didn’t always feel this way. In 1985 my sister returned from Germany with a CD player, the first any of us had ever seen, and I marveled at the slick, featureless disc. I officially went digital in college when I bought my first computer. Mine was a Macintosh with two floppy drives and no hard drive. My boyfriend bought me 1 MB of RAM for my birthday and presented it to me in a jewel box.

Some years later, I found my husband on the Internet. It was 1997 and we were in the vanguard of the cyber-dating scene. We swapped e-mails for a whole month before meeting, which most people found outlandish. We were on the cover of a book. I went on Oprah. We married in a year, left the city and found a house on realtor.com.

But something was changing in me. As the world went digital and the Matrix movies played to packed houses, I found myself drawn to fountain pens, clothbound books and bargain-priced LPs.

One night the fuses blew and my husband and I had to choose between light and music for our one remaining outlet. We opted for music and sat close together in the darkness as the worn out needle brought Art Pepper back from the dead, his saxophone weaving cracked tapestries of sound.

Today I am a food writer. I live in the realm of the tactile, which could be the last stronghold of the analog world. I think that taste, smell and touch are like the armies of the resistance, hiding underground while their flashy audiovisual siblings take the world by storm.

Sometimes, my husband and I hold hands and scan the sky for constellations, roughly sketching the seasons as they pass overhead. “Is it November already,” we ask each other when Orion rises into view. It’s a way of keeping time, inexact at best, but it’s a better reminder than the digital alarm clock that wakes us each day at 5 a.m.

When my husband and I first met online a decade ago, we were digital, virtual and filled with instant certainty. But today, our actual lives are analog by nature. We live in the country, where dial-up is standard and sometimes progress just puts its feet up and takes a nap. We live our lives based on his best guess and mine.

Maybe the digital revolution, like an irrational number, will never come to an end. But for me there will always be a place for the whisper, the crackle, the shades of mottled gray. For the sake of my own imperfect soul, I believe in analog.

没有把任何人block，那不是偶光明磊落的风格，hoho即使是追求公平的天平座，

只是觉得有点 不爽，呵呵，反正我还是有自己的博的，我并不是爱show off，爱添油加醋的人，我的快乐是我自己感觉到的，不愿意和任何人相提并论，也不需要任何人judge我，羡慕我，也许关了这里很好, secrets make woman woman. a woman’s heart is the deepest sea of secret.

我始终觉得我活着不是给别人看的，也不是自圆其说，我容易快乐，没心没肺，爱睡觉，还有很多缺点，但那都是我

还有最近我突然发现我爱上了research呵呵，大跌眼珠子吧，想着其实写写proposal看看paper挺幸福的，觉得很充实，满足，虽然还挺累的，只是不知道是不是有继续下去的能力

但是是的，但是我爱着急，ameng说做research要有好的心态，看到别人怎样了不能眼热，这个我都不会的，我最是荣辱不惊的人了，范前辈说不以物喜不以己悲么，但是我爱着急，好奇心太强了。。。

不过怎样，我决定既然ignite了兴趣，并执着的 努力一阵子好了，

下雨了好烦

还有椅子不舒服，不是脖子就是腰疼唉

日文比较好，老是给我发有意思的咚咚

收到了欣洁的明信片，恩我们很有缘分 

怎么总是看到别人的缺点呢不好不好

但是我发现我也有工作狂的潜质

而且现在真的很enjoy做研究，很bt吧hoho，然后开始鄙视别人

但是我今天发现我一晚上还是写不完ppp，腰疼！！！ 

呵呵

3个mm很拉风哦

西西

还捡了一个床垫，胳膊都抬不起来了

床每周增高30cm的速度…

leopard

不行啊！加油

有些日子就是用来郁闷的,点缀别的日子的快乐:)bless

小陈很会安慰我

她喜欢鼓励人 

一直在想Jay到底是怎样想的

他说的话。。。

唉

希望一切都好~

不知道是自己变坚强了，还是变的会自我安慰 

在新学期开始时，发现自己在一年里还是有了点进步，竟然是在这个暑假的尾巴上得到的，

至少不那么讨厌research还大多觉得很有意思

也终于明白了一些道理，学术的 ，生活的

比如要积极要agressive的去push老板，为自己争取。。。生活好像不再是每天无目的的了哈哈

仿佛是一下子悟到的似的，很奇妙

希望生活中少一些distraction，也更没心没肺一些，我有时真的觉得想的太多好累啊，不能受干扰，不要凡事都weigh up

我还是喜欢简单~

新学期了，希望自己能有更大进步，好俗哦~

好好学习，真本领hoho

怎么跟小学生作文似的啊，唉

文字水平退步太明显了 

hehe

很多事情最终都变成了distraction哈哈比如网和电脑

nodnod