upset or cheerful

I only wanner write something simple.

What happened on me, let me laugh, smile, or let me down, cry, whatever, it was my journal, the bless to me.

Last week I went shopping in Carnegie fruit and vegetable market. When I was picking the cornflower, an old face, with murky grey blue eyes and a sharp chin just like a mouse, appeared in front of me out of the blue, ‘can I ask you to do something for me, when you pick, you take it, put it back, take it, put it back; don’t take off the leaves.’ ‘I didn’t.’ I felt his hostility, replied in short. A few seconds later, again, this ugly face turned out without knowing it was unwelcome. ‘Can I ask you what are you looking for?’ It didn’t make sense if he tried to pretend he was speaking in a polite way by saying ‘can I ask you’, actually, I would suggest him use the phrase ‘may I ask’, please speak in a proper way, my dear sir. Out of range and expect of his rudeness, I couldn’t react in a second. Mr. Mouse misunderstood my silence and asked again the stupid question. This time I looked at his eyes and sent back my question calmly and quickly, ‘May I ask what are you looking at me for?’ You crap! Who do you think you are?

I confirm I was in bad mood that day coz just got another rejection in an interview.

Don’t worry, Angie, don’t worry, be happy.

Still, I enjoy life.

Spring is coming in this city. As Yu described in her space, blossom is seen everywhere. Pink peach blossoms are all the way along home. Magnolias are like magnificent lamp stands. What surprised me was a huge cherry blossom. White, huge, quite but boisterous, flower waterfall. In someone’s yard, in the sunshine of a beautiful spring afternoon, this big cherry tree stood still, like a fairy tale under the clear blue sky. Sunshine went through one or two bees’ transparent wings. What tiny creatures they were.

A big yellow cat was enjoying the sunshine bath under the blossom. He walked towards me. Usually I think cats are female while dogs are male. But the cat gave me the sense that he was male. His face and the way he walked showed his machismo. Every cat has its face. What a wonderful world!

He allowed me to touch him, rubbing against my legs and my bag. This big boy even paced around me, one circle, two circles… He really likes playing! I noticed there was a wound near his right ear, are you feeling itch? What did you do, naughty boy?

I asked my friend, if I asked for money, would you lend me? They said they would, but they don’t have money. It is a good answer, isn’t it?

Life is not easy, honey. Life is hard, Angie. That is life. Sometimes you must be hard. Not only one person told me that. What a life. Tell me the truth, be hard to me. Then I can be hard, as hard as you.

I cried. He said, you just feel sorry for yourself. Everyone feels sorry to themselves, it is normal. Just one moment, I felt weak, but no sympathy. It is enough you feel sorry for yourself, how can you demand someone else feel sorry for you?

Every time after crying, I become a bit harder. Cry is a good thing, not because it makes you weak, but because it makes you hard. Hard, not strong.

As it said in the novel The Scarlet Letter, her (the little Pearl’s) tears fell upon her father’s cheek， they were the pledge that she would grow up amid human joy and sorrow， nor forever do battle with the world， but be a woman in it. She never cried, this wild infant, but once she did, she was gonnar experience the joy and sorrow on the earth, feel weak, grow hard.

So do I.