don't panic,不是rap, 是流水，recap一下近来所发生的。

其实没发生什么。。。

睡前在客厅看到倦意的godfather很忙的样子(以GF简之,not in lower case;），不忍心置之不理，帮住完成一个慈善展览会的邀请函工作（咳咳，我的主要职责呢，是把几张卡片和一封信放到信封里封好）二三百封repetitive弄下来挺够受，有舒伯特的音乐和加冰威士忌陪着，倒也没想过这和手头上的活儿是多么的不搭调，it was still a blissfully happy night~

回来快两周了，每次在国内外transition的时候总会感慨良多，确切的说是在飞机上等厕所，偷偷打开小侧窗略感凉意时，朝东飞的情况下憧憬美好的假期，规划好每天的时刻表;朝西时是另外一种归宿的感觉，同样充满着无限的企盼，并嘱咐自己着陆后莫忘记当时hankering的感受，both of the occasions were those few moments i felt exultant and utterly motivated internally even if I haven't achieved anything.

这次回来和以往不太一样，有些刚到英国那时的感觉，也许是第二起跑线的缘故吧......

紧接的周末天气异常好，在熟悉的clifton周边走走，这summer咋就那么宜人呢，动力十足的去了远处几个陌生的地方of which i became very fond, 不知是不是因为首次见的好奇或者当天的心情夸大了它自身的美感度。随后的某天晚上饭后和宓姐，joyce去cabot tower一带,说来惭愧，87'的小朋友们刚来一年已去那底儿N次，我这老83直到那天晚上才是第一次走。。。由于个人的literature incompetency, 在这里就不费尽描述了，只能用心的去体会把景象变成画面，听觉，嗅觉，感觉存在脑力以便今后recall, 反正无比的罗曼蒂克，you feel the stillness, broken occationally by the distant engine rev of road car and probably the crunching sound of your feet as you tread on the debris of the forest underfoot during the autumn...I am sure it would be all beautiful in different aspects in different times of the day and different seasons of the year... 几个世纪不知多少恋人漫步在那只能容纳两个人的小路,又有多少single坐在长凳上写信给心爱的她(当然现在发短信更加方便了，等回信依旧是同样的痛苦）

ok,开始流水。。。

上个周末GF带我去了教堂，都是30年经常见面的老朋友，到场50岁以下的除了我再就是当天要加入唱诗班的小男孩的父母。礼拜持续了一个小时，很喜欢跟着唱圣歌，让心在圣洁的气氛下自发式地净了许多。之后GF给我介绍了91岁高龄矍铄的the Reverend Mr Johnson, 他上个世纪三十年代在大理做过传教士并说当时中国的礼节连他们绅士的英国人都自愧不如。

应小高、宓姐介绍，看了《戏王之王》因为里面有他们的同学靓女马赛，哈哈，杜汶泽那四头实在经典，笑的俺满地打滚。

终于可以留在bristol攻ACCA，不用去reading了,跟爸妈解释的挺干脆：那边犯罪率比较高。

感谢班长，杨漠发来的秘密材料，自感帮助甚大。刚看完《让数字说话》，great fun to read,光是把作者那些不正经的“科儿”给记住也值了，对审计感兴趣的同学们别错过。

最后，第一次（最近好多第一次）在脑子里读出 志在必得 四个字。

• "咱们去tom熊玩吧” 到了之后，“你们怎么还不玩那个熊”
• 玩抽老鳖，最后手里只剩一根扑克，还藏在背后捣来捣去

爱心毛巾，爱心筷勺每天坚持在岗位，看看它们能度过多少个22……写在22岁最后一天

p.s.室友推荐了一首“三月九日”，日剧“一升的眼泪”的插曲，手抄歌词用了半个多小时，全当练日语了~~，至少懂了啥意思，吉他伴奏也会弹了~~（上一次唱日文歌的时候好像还停留在小学二年级领唱日本儿歌）

When i finished the enjoyable session in the Ice Rink at noon, instead of riding bicycle climb up the Park Street to head straight back home, I leaned against the black fence of Sukoshi resturant, doing nothing other than folding the arms and looking over the overcast "bristolish" wintery sky.

I was not standing there for long, merely fifteen minutes. There were a couple of families coming out the ice stadium, and few cars passed the Frogmore Street slowly. I was trying to contemplate, for the sake of this peaceful agreeable sunday noon and the surrounding fresh air, such scenario suddenly rung the bell, which is very similar to the one i dreamed of a while ago. Does dream tell both the present and future or does it purely reflect one's subconscious entity? Do not know.

Coincidentally, the famous mournful"Gloomy Sunday" was in my W800i, the familiar melody rised again from the earphone. No matter how bright my mood is, the impulse of this 'Hungarian Suicide Song' can always drag me into the dark tragic feeling. I certainly would not die for a girl, yet still be able to link a little scrap of composer's own sadness to my personality-nearly-extinct mind, willing to sacrifice everything to seek the true love.

Sunday is not sunny , neither my spirit.