Well, I can not depict how stupid and clumsyI am when I burn up the phone lines telling my Mom what I've been suffering; there is a cauldron of noodles on the fire. For what it's worth, Istrongly recommend you not to cook things while making a call--or we aretalking about disaster. My noodles got stucktogether. There was a hunch--more exactly –the fact that I ruined my supper.Following a not so satisfactory dinner wasthe contemplation that I am usedto undertakeevery Thursday night. As is known, one manis not an island, so that's why we needreligious belief. In more cases than one, I'm an atheist. But such a notion is doomedto be with me: I am talking to another myselffrom another world. This sounds a little bitweird. Yet indeed, it’strue. When I'mstruggling between different kinds of offers,when I'm wondering why I am living at thismoment of history rather than my favoriteone, when Ithink I couldn't go on with mylife and it is likely to be intolerable, it's him whocomes to rescue me from themental despair and cheers meup.Everyonehas a dream. One friend Terry is busywith his computer business. Star is exploringthe linguisticsworld and wishes one dayto become somebody in this arena. Cecilia is striving to make the impossibleinto the believable--being a totallyindependent pretty woman walking downthe streets of Paris. I am a teachingChinese as a foreign language major (justthe name itself is capable for you to take a long, longbreath). I seem to be so destined to become a teacherwho will be meddling up withthe disagreeable phonetics and grammar. Giving the condition that once I'm so determined andfrantic to goabroad, taking a job orresolving to be a postgraduate here inChina is a nuisance. I was smart-asscollege freshman at thattime, pretendingthe world is mine for the asking. Nowyou can never be way out on a limb, that’s how sober and calm I am now.Since I always want to be a man of witand broadmindedness, an interpreter wouldbe a nice choice. That's why ever sinceI finished the job serving as a volunteerfor FIFA, I've been burying my head intostacks of books inthe library, dormitoryas well as in the classroom. Everythingis ok except my sudden emotionaldisorder: occasionally burst into furyordespair. This is really terrible 'causeI know what a challenge it is to becomea qualified simultaneous interpreter. After all, a soul-consulting conversationwithanother myself helps mea lot. It suddenlydawns on me that it will never rain roses. and if we want to have more roses then wemustplant trees. I will hew out the mountainof despair a stone of hope.Yes, that stone of hope is going toaccompany me till Irun to the end of this world.
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