女人若出于安全感的需求，没有控制天性中的缺陷，在感情中会节节败退。

  提问太多你爱不爱我，会不会一直爱我，并为此翻来覆去考验，求证，推敲，怀疑。暴露太多的人会显出脆弱。因她丝毫不懂得后退及隐藏。留给彼此余地。

  每天追打电话探听行踪，自动献身，出入对方公寓把自己的东西随便放置，像一个母亲一样无微不至照顾起居。

姿态太过放低，态度太过热情。很多女人到被离弃的一刻，依旧不知道自己曾经做过一些什么，最终，从高高墙头一朵迎风招摇的嫣红花朵，跌堕成墙角的一堆烂稀泥，让男人捧不散，甩不脱，左右为难。

只有一种女子，如同浪迹玫瑰，攀藤四处生长的蔷薇，她们不知归宿，在男子生命里煽动黑暗火焰，使之余生沦陷，无法解脱。

  爱恋中的女子，一定要警觉做一朵蔷薇，哪怕艳丽而痛楚。也不要被踩成一堆黏湿可憎的稀泥。

Thank Goodness It's Fridays.咋样一看这名字挺符合老美的特点。这也是我要上班的地方，中关村友谊宾馆内。

前天去面试，和俩经理聊了一个多小时，I服了。无数个问题狂轰乱炸，我从容接招。妈的，姐姐什么场面没见过，就算你用英语面，我也绝对能把你侃晕了算完。

 那帅哥经理也算人性化，请我喝加冰的可乐。在问到“如果你请朋友到家里开party，你会怎么接待他们？”时，我的兴致突然来了。我d答：“首先准备好至少4个wii手柄，叫上必胜客3份披萨宅急送，去超市采购一车的零食和饮料以及速冻食品！把卫生间打扫干净，准备好被子和毛毯，笔记本和电脑24小时上网待机状态……”，那经理很无奈的问我“你们年轻人都是这么聚会的？”哈哈，太可爱了。

  幸亏有小哲子师傅，要不就算以学生兼职的身份也进不去，这年头什么都讲关系，还好我的“同事”都是我这么大的大学在校生沟通起来完全不成问题。

  正好赶上小哲子下班，他请我吃三明治薯条和冰欺凌，什么都是超级大的分量。看来以后我有口福了，自此拒绝KFC和麦当劳之类的洋垃圾，相比之下真的是Junk！

 

Nothing happens, nobody comes, nobody goes, it's awful？

REVIEW (L.A. Times): 'Waiting for Godot' With Stoic Grace, Solid Acting

By Michael Phillips

We're born "astride of a grave and a difficult birth. Down in the hole, lingeringly, the gravedigger puts on the forceps. We have time to grow old. The air is full of cries."

Such is the stoic observation of a homeless man killing time, while time returns the insult. The lines contain a terrible beauty. More often, however, Samuel Beckett's "Waiting for Godot" is a simple play ("Why," Beckett wondered, "do people have to complicate a thing so simple?") taken up with weak-bladder jokes, hat-switching routines straight out of Laurel and Hardy, petty cruelties and "private nightmares," scored to the rhythms of music hall and vaudeville patter.

The result remains, stubbornly, the key work of our post-Atomic Age.

The Matrix Theatre Company revival is a good, solid "Waiting for Godot." If it leaves you waiting for . . . something, it's something so many "Godots" lack. Director Andrew J. Robinson respects the material up, down and sideways. He has some fine actors at his dispatch. But only rarely do we get the elusive Buster Keaton effect.

Beckett's own favorite clown (and later, collaborator) brought to each new cosmic indignity a blend of craziness and gravitas. Comic poetry like Keaton's, you don't find often. In an otherwise worthy production, director Robinson and company acknowledge Beckett's comic and tragic impulses—but they remain separate. We miss those junctures where tragedy and comedy do little hat-switching routines of their own, and then move on.

Beckett completed "Waiting for Godot" in January 1949, after a productive three-month blur. Four years later, the modestly scaled Theatre Babylone in Paris took it on, though the theater itself was flat broke. If "I am going to close up shop," the theater manager said, "I may as well close up in beauty."

The play's language is that of a man who struggled to believe in the power of language to begin with. "Joyce believed in words," Beckett wrote of his friend James Joyce. "All you had to do was rearrange them and they would express what you wanted." Beckett didn't share that optimism. Yet his tramps Vladimir and Estragon, waiting by a tree to see a man about an assignment of some sort, fend off the worst—intimations of mortality, the fear that death won't come—with words.

Per the Matrix stratagem, "Godot" features two actors alternating in each role. At Friday's opening night performance, David Dukes played Vladimir opposite Robin Gammell's Estragon, with Tony Amendola as Pozzo, landowner and slaveholder, and JD Cullum as Lucky, the unlucky slave. The role of A Boy, messenger for someone named Godot, was played by Will Rothhaar.

It's an authoritative ensemble, from Rothhaar's wary, urgent Boy on up. Gammell relies on a doleful, grousing attack throughout, but he's touching all the same. Amendola, very good in the recent Old Globe Theatre "Cymbeline," tends to blast the insults in ways recalling F. Murray Abraham in the Steve Martin-Robin Williams Broadway revival. Yet he brings considerable force and nastiness to the material, nicely counterbalanced by Cullum, whose white fright wig pays homage to the original 1953 Lucky, Jean Martin.

In Dukes' performance, you're given an artful sense of a dandy fallen on extremely hard times. This tramp is like Franklin Pang-born after the fall of the stock market, or the Bomb, or something more gradual. Working up a dance routine with Gammell, or grimly uttering the observation that "habit is a great deadener," Dukes gives this "Godot" a flash of subtlety and grace.