以前對楊德昌的記憶，我只知道他是台灣新浪潮導演，和蔡琴離了婚，跟彭鎧立在一起，至於他有名的片子像是《牯嶺街少年殺人事件》是我一部也沒看過。（默，怎麼都只知道八卦）

那年我高二，應該是從華文影劇版看到的消息吧，那時候電影剛拍完正要開始宣傳。我已經忘記當初為甚麼那麼想看《一一》，只記得自己很起勁的拉了全家人跑到紐約市的Film Forum去看當時東岸唯一的在上映的院線。還沒進場前，家人一直揶揄我，the movie better not be boring, 不然他們會著睡著。我只是笑了笑，有吳念真怎麼會無聊。（後來才知道還有可愛的小男生）

Magic Hours / How Strange, Innocence

劇情我這裡就略過，我在把google的連結過濾了一下，想知道的話看藤井樹和502的觀後感，可以大概了解一下劇情。至於其他的影評就請問辜狗大神吧。一直覺得，除了吳念真沒有人能把NJ的角色和那種苦悶與掙扎，表達的那麼淋漓盡致。可惜翻譯沒有辦法表達一些台語對話流露的韻味和情感。倒是我因為台語發笑得時候，除了零星跟我同時發出的笑聲，整個電影院都很安靜。兩個中年男子用著濃濃的日本和台灣口音講著英文，說著中年危機和身不由己的無奈，互相鼓勵著。音樂是跨國的語言，兩個人在車上說著自己如何和音樂結下不解之緣。

大田：了不起的女高音
NJ: 我看你很懂音樂
大田：我小時候，家裡很窮苦。音樂讓我相信人生會是美好的
NJ: 以前我爸爸每天都在聽音樂，我討厭他聽得音樂
大田：所以？
NJ: 十五歲，我初戀了。突然之間，所有那些音樂我都聽懂了。後來她離開了我，音樂卻留下來。
大田：她討厭音樂嗎？
MJ: 不，大家都覺得音樂沒有用。聽音樂又賺不到錢。她也這麼覺得。
大田：她因此離開了你？
NJ: 不，是我決定離開她。你相不相信，我前幾天才碰到她。快三十年沒見了。
大田：這首歌一定是她。我覺得我可以看到她的樣子。

上了大學以後，dvd終於出了。我記得那天把dvd放給你看完以後，我們在很詭異的氣氛下微婉地爭執導演的背後的佈局，你一派的悲觀，我說生命還是會有出口。

是因為你所以我開始聽天空爆炸。從最簡單的drum、bass、guitar的組合裡，聽見豐富的旋律，縝密的起伏訴說著沒有人聲的故事。那天晚上的客廳很暗，我們看著Friday Night Lights星期五晚上的的美式足球比賽，對這些美國德州鄉下小鎮鄉民來說，美式足球就是像是棒球之於紅葉鄉的一樣，這個裡唯一可以讓全鎮可以hold on to的靈魂支柱。就像也是來自德州的Explosions in the sky的配樂一樣，你很安靜，但是我感覺得出來你有心事。那是我第一次看見你流淚，第一次看見你的off-guard，第一次意識到我沒有辦法改變一些事情。

First Breath After Coma / The Earth is not a Cold Dead Place

Ithaca的今年冬天，像以往一樣令人寒顫和漫天大雪。我常常在面對凍骨冷風快步地走過泥濘人行道或是一個人坐車的時候，把耳機音量開到最大聲，爆炸的聲音形成一道音牆，讓悲傷挫敗微笑欣喜流洩在我小小的世界之內。

我不知道我到底為甚麼很堅持的在溫書假跑回紐約聽他們的現場。不是為你，也為了不反覆的儀式,but i know i have to do it myself。這一切不再和你有關係，我只是在做一件我以為對我重要的事情。從經濟學的角度來說，來回折騰的時間很不符合成本的回收效益。但是就算如果一切重來，我們真的會改變當初所有的決定嗎？

前天iTunes裡的歌被砍光，今天在和朋友分享完過Explosions in The Sky的音樂以後，ipod裡的歌也就很巧合的全被洗了。我存在server上的copy，諷刺的成為我唯一的備份。下午無意發現有人把在Bowery Ballroom的現場表演錄了下來。音質很好，雖然只是用便宜的耳機聽，尤其是第一首，這版的bootleg還是能夠把錄音室版本沒有的live氣味抓到。

Memorial / Those Who Tell the Truth Shall Die, Those Who Tell the Truth Shall Live Forever

其實一直覺得這最後一段寫的太倉促，不是我沒有準備好，而是我覺得我快要好了，可以自己的面對，而不只是藉口，只是我還沒完全到那裡。我需要的是一股力量，有足夠的momentum撐到轉捩點。

今天不小心路過一家酒館，就坐了一個晚上。

「親愛的，沒有一段感情攤開來不是千瘡百孔的。每一段感情都有黑暗、脆弱、傷感、自私、和貪婪的地方。唯其如此，在我們克服了那些感情裡的晦暗，留下感情裡純粹、美麗的部分，醞釀成微弱的光，那會照亮我們未來的旅途，紀錄我們曾經愛過和被愛的渴望。」

也許當情緒和記憶都被洗淨、釋放，剩下的也就只有那些音樂流倘在生命裡了。

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I wrote the paper for my summer writing seminar class. I was once told that i was the sloppieset girlfriend ever. hum…i am still me these days.

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“Excuse me, Sir, that is a lady’s restroom!” I heard a Korean waitress voice passed over my shoulder as a kindly reminder while I was walking toward the bathroom. I was surprised but then quick turn back to her with smile, “Yeah, I know. I AM a girl.”

I remembered my childhood favorite color was pink, not the aggressive hot pink but the soft light pink that’s mellow. Whenever I was role-playing with my sister, I would always put a pink cloth around my head as pretend that I have a long pink hair. For me that was the most beautiful thing. And in my sketchbook, I would use pink to draw things that I consider as more prestigious than the others. Pink was my color of honor. For me, Hello Kitty was the way I defined myself.

Culturally, the eastern society has its tradition of preferring boys over girls. In earlier days, having a baby boy meant that he would become the working force in the family. Also in the male-dominated social norms, a daughter who got married is seen as “water that spills out of the house”; she doesn’t belong to the family any more while the son continues to maintain the bloodline of the family. Even though both of my parents were both from very traditional Taiwanese families, I was lucky to grow up in a very positive environment where they thought girls were as good as boys. This was not always easy since my grandfather was very vocal about wanting a grandson. Instead of asking me to act more girlish, quiet or young lady-like, my mom cared more about my manners and interactions with others: politeness and sincerity. She would only yell at me occasionally that I needed to behave like a girl if I’d gone too wild chasing my cousins with plastic guns and swords in the yard.

Through out my childhood to early teenage years, there was a period of time that I didn’t really care about my gender. The only time that I would notice that I am a girl was during the days I had to wear skirts for school and the time we had sex education in health class. The only difference I could recall now was that I seemed to drop my color interests in pink and turn to purple. The pop culture at the time gave me the feeling that pink was too girly. I began to see “being girly” as the sign of weakness. For me, pink didn’t represent the happiness and enthusiasm anymore. Instead, it meant girly, weak and powerless, just useless decoration on arms of men.
Despite of my change in the taste of color and rising awareness on the popular culture’s cliché of portraying woman, I never really wish I were a boy. The only thing I would want to protest was why girls HAVE TO wear skirts for their uniforms. Wearing a skirts means you have to behave like a lady and can’t running around with it. For me, it felt that I HAD TO behave much more carefully than I normally would. It was definitely a burden for a carefree soul like me.

As the oldest child in the family, my parents never expressed how they wished me to behave. They never discouraged me from doing whatever I loved: studying math, reading science books, and fixing computers — things that was normally be seen as for boys. To look pretty was never the priority in my agenda. And since I’ve always just worn old clothes from my cousins, I never really had the problem of most teenage girls — looking for another perfect dress. Being a layback person, t-shirt, shorts, and jeans become my dress code. And for my own conveniences, there was no skirt in my closet. I once overheard a conversation my aunt has with my mother. She was blaming her that I was not girly enough, “You should buy Sophie skirts to wear. Don’t you see my daughter? You should ask her to go out party more often.” My first reaction was bursting out to laugh. What from the earth that you could ask me what to wear? Thank god my mother was always strict in disciplining her children, but she never forced me to wear stuff unless it was a very very important occasion, which rarely happened.

But no matter how open my parents seemed to be on the gender issue as they claimed, for the older generations there still seemed to be a set of rules or social norms of what a girl should be look or behave like. It wasn’t until I got into high school that my mom would force me to go to mall to get some new girly shirt so I don’t just look like blob. They would say, “Sophie, if you keep dressing so sloppy like this, how would you ever get a boyfriend?”

After coming to United States, I always felt inferior because English wasn’t my first language and so I was not able to show others my confident self. Ironically, when I tried to laugh at my parents’ old way of thinking of what feminine should be like. I was falling into the trap of cultural norm while I didn’t want to admit it. As an alienated teenager, I couldn’t help overreacting. I didn’t feel attractive. I didn’t feel that I belonged to any group. I didn’t feel there’s anything in me was valuable or unique. In order to get through these negative thoughts, I felt that I had to do something to fix myself. I wasn’t sure if I was inspired by my mother who always had short hair and wore long pants. As a superwoman in my world, I unconsciously thought that I didn’t have to be feminine to prove I am a girl. So, I decided to cut my hair really short and wearing more in unisex clothes. That was my way of interacting with this so-hard-to-fit-in world. I still disliked pink at the time and I couldn’t stand when Britney Spear and Christina Aguilera were on MTV trying to pretend they were all innocent and cute. It was also during that period of time, my color preference had gone from purple to more earthy colors: blue, green, yellow and brown, they made me feel more real.

Before I went to college, my mom started to talk to me about topics she never brought up before: things like wanting us to be able to have economic independence so we don’t have depend on guys. For years I’ve been her daughter and I’ve seen how she has been sacrificed herself. She put all her energy and youth in the family, the children, and the work, but showed us so little about her true herself. She would always be the last one to sit on the dinner table because she wanted us to eat first. She would always be the last one sit on the couch to rest for a busy day because she always had to make sure she took care of the housework and everybody. If you asked me what her hobbit was, I couldn’t really give you an answer other than cooking. However, she didn’t want her daughter to be like that.

Looking back on my high school years, I realized that I was trying to act out so I could feel strong enough to resist the norms to protect myself. I wanted to be different. It’s like those punk teenagers who need to dress themselves up in very gothic or dark way to prove that they were different while they weren’t. I was no different. And it was after coming to Cornell, my perception of what defines feminine has changed. I was able to meet people who were confident with themselves and didn’t bother about the stereotypes. It’s about finding the people that can communicate with the right frequencies.

Walter Benjamin once said, “To be happy is to be able to become aware of oneself without fright.” Whether the exterior world appears thriving or quiet, I’ve realized that to be confident, to feel attractive and worthy to others doesn’t really have to do with how I dress as long as I feel comfortable and to be honest with myself. For me, gender or sexuality is not a way to label or judge anyone. Whether we are male or female, gay, lesbian, bisexual or even transexual, it shouldn’t be our destiny for cultural expectations. Coming this long way from Hello Kitty, antisocial outcast, and then just comfortable with who I am, I finally came across the metamorphosis of my gender (un)awareness.
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我在捷運出口認出小go，雖然他完全不知道我長的什麼樣子。完全是陽光少年加上設計人的氣質。兩個人癡癡的等候失散的另兩位同胞，一坐在出口旁的磚上，小go馬上把曾經說要寄但是都沒寄的貼紙拿出來，我也馬上亮出在威力書的外殼，兩張因為喝過海水而增加層次感偽迪士尼貼紙，靜靜的在蘋果的缺口遙望遠方。我們聊起不能錯過的紐約和窮學生的省錢密技，在神祕交易的氣氛籠罩之下，科克出現。我們在猜小八會遲到多久。

背著電腦亂跑的話，我去咖啡館唯一的考量會是有沒有無線網路。細心的總召小八，老早就決定要帶我們去波西米亞人。當我們走進地下室發現沒有客人的時候，我心中暗自竊喜，因為聽說那裡的插座不多，插座先搶先贏呀。三個人之中我不是每個都見過，即使見過似乎也還好，怕生的我其實擔心自己會冷，一反我過去的經驗，當大家坐定，詭異的沈默好像很快不見，奇妙的化學在作用著。可憐的小go要點東西，店家不是剛好沒有，不然就是本來想喝東西沒有冰的。排除萬難點好餐以後，大家紛紛打開背包袋子，自家寶貝全都拿出來玩。即使mac上的msn功能很陽春，兩個用蘋果的人不斷吹噓蘋果的好，講的另外兩個牙癢癢。我又說起Toshiba mac的例子煽風點火，可以感覺有人在小小的動搖。我好像是唯一穿短褲的人。諷刺的是，自己鮮黃的T恤上寫著Doodle的字眼，坐了一個下午，我再次驗證自己不會塗鴉的殘酷事實。

初聽到要去看19時，我還以為是某國片。結果是我老是從學校裡借不到的北野武風格日本片。結果我們居然還在前200名的觀眾裡，一人賺到一張海報，不過2本筆記本4個人怎麼分呢？小go和小八很大方的讓出來，小鬼們趕在開片前擺平雞毛小事。開片不久，短褲短袖的我開始覺得冷氣太強。後北野武風格似乎沒有辦法完全轉移我皮膚上的感溫神經。有些很橋段很幽默但是還場子還是有點冷。導演明明23歲拍此片，那為什麼叫19？

晚餐在我從來沒去過的摩斯漢堡，米堡聽起來是很稀奇的東西。兩台數位相機一台Lomo，有人忙著閃開鏡頭，有人安然自若。不想再去咖啡店花錢的我們，花了很多時間在決定討論晚點要去哪。在不同的選擇中，小go家的字眼不時的跑出來。

昏暗的樓梯間，還有小孩的哭鬧，一進小go的房間，我們開始突擊他的書、ｃｄ、櫃子。可愛的胡迪就像當初我們在網頁上看到的一樣討人喜歡。威力蘋果的17寸螢幕果然是令人歎為觀止。放起Coldplay Concert DVD，我忍不住說了自己捨畢業舞會而去他們紐約的演唱會。很嗨的繼續葛來美獎和紐約愛樂合作的Politik。

趕上最後一班的捷運，趕在板南線門關起來的前一秒鐘衝進轉車車廂。

小八的版本
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