Friday, February 21, 2014

Thursday, February 20, 2014

2014: 北京 --- 我爱北京天安门


2014:北京 -- 老北京













2014: 北京 --- 手足同庆







2014: 北京---798













2014: 北京 --- 烟袋斜街小资咖啡


亲爱的沈睿

这段时间真是很烦。自从去年Eric和他们闹翻走人后,新来了怪人老板, 我就无法正常工作了。因为很珍惜这份比较轻松的工作,离家也算近,更是赤手空拳把这个项目从无倒有的做了起来, 不想轻易的放弃,就一直隐忍着,希望有奇迹出现。

圣诞节回北京,看望妈妈,她一如既往的烦我。如果我耐心的解释,她就没完没了,唯一的办法就是我发狠发威,她害怕了才住嘴。这是我们母女的终身游戏,我厌倦无比,她此起彼伏。以前有爸爸, 我可以转身而去, 现在, 却只好背起十字架到死。

回到公司,情况更坏。我找Steve, Tim,说你们给我找了这个老板, 我无法工作,但是也不想辞职,你们说怎么办? 他们让我换组,但那个组我不想去,因为也是个新头,和我现在的怪人老板是死对头, 天天和我们闹。 这样吧, I want something, let me go。 于是他们给了我一个很好的Package,还让我拿失业金。我有些意外,足可以几个月不做事了。还说,以后有机会还是回来吧。

找新工作我不怕, 一个星期就找好了两个,比现在这个工作假期工资都好。

一直想买一辆新的电油混合的车,省油节能,但是旧车还能开,又在为妞妞大把银子交钱,本来决定等明年再说。现在这个Package正好够买辆新车。新年,新工作开新车吧。

看起来一切都解决了,我好像还占了点小便宜, 多进了几万块钱。可是我却非常的沮丧,因为实在不想折腾,可又被逼无乃,被折腾了这么一回。离退休还早呢, 几年一折腾,多烦!

我开始变的很抑郁, 很低沉,天天缩在壁炉边望着炉火发呆,对所有的事情失去兴趣,连家门都不想出。我知道不是个事,我必须振作起来,

去看沈睿的博格。她一如既往的阳光明媚, 在那个南方‘大城市’里热气腾腾的活着,高唱着更年期的凯旋之歌。。。亲爱的沈睿教授, 你真是我可望不可及女英雄, 我要感谢你,向你学习致敬。想给她写个信爱慕一下,又怕她先进的智能电话打扰她。 To be or not to be? 还在犹豫中。

苏珊是这个公司的人事部主任。我走时她对我说, 你知道你多优秀吗?聪明认真,有热情又懂事,负责任。 我们理解你的处境,为你做了一个最好的Package。

今天给她写了信,她马上回了信,放在这里,纪念我这次被折腾的不幸遭遇。

Suzanne:

Just let you know I already have multiple offers and will start my new job soon.

And the word you said to me on my exiting meeting is very warm, comforting, nice and I really rely on it these days to encourage myself to get over, go through my emotions and pull myself together very quickly for my next run.

Thanks again.

她的回信:

July, I knew you would do very well. I wish you all the best in your new position! :). Stay in touch and let me know where you are at. Best, Suzanne

Sunday, February 2, 2014

Pamuk and Istanbul



It seemed appropriate that I was visiting Mr. Pamuk during the off-season, given his focus in books like “Snow” and “Istanbul” on winter, grayness and melancholy. The air was crisp, the light was muted, and although the sun occasionally burst through the clouds, the city seemed largely drained of color. “I have always preferred the winter to the summer in Istanbul,” Mr. Pamuk wrote in “Istanbul.” “I love the early evenings when autumn is slipping into winter, when the leafless trees are trembling in the north wind, and people in black coats and jackets are rushing home through the darkening streets.” From the balcony of his apartment, he looked approvingly at the sun shining weakly through the cloud cover and pronounced it an optimal day for a walk. “If this was a hugely sunny day I would be upset,” he said. “I like the black and white city as I wrote in ‘Istanbul.’ ”