woman wearing irish linen shirt

When I woke up Sunday morning, I was torn between a choice.

No, not my clothes.Considering that this was the first time I met Miss Pender's friend, I had already figured out what to wear that day: milk tea-colored horsebit loafers, a pair of whole-wash "mother jeans", thin A belt to emphasize the waistline, a high-count combed cotton white shirt, and an obviously expensive light yellow unstructured linen suit, made by women and men.

Very 70s, very classy, ​​very calling her.

In the past few days, I have also used my commute time to carefully consider what bag to carry.Miss Pender would certainly carry her little drawstring dance bag, but I'm just a slightly in the way spectator, and I can't carry my gym bag too.Carrying a leather bag is too grand, and the museum canvas bag that I usually use is unavoidable. With any obvious class language.

Those who have experience in domestic life may think of red, blue and white woven bags when seeing this check pattern.

It's really hard to say which one I love more, Patti Smith or Vivienne Westwood.

I bought one in each of the two colors of this bag. Today I can also carry the red and white color, which seems to be a little bit far from the impression of the red, blue and white woven bag-but it doesn't work.

Today is Singapore's National Day.There will be red and white colors all over the street, and I don't want to be mistaken for my nationality.

My troubles, my sincere and profound, my real troubles are that the set of HIIT I have been doing for a while can no longer make my highest heart rate exceed [-].

Judging from this key indicator, the good news is that my physical fitness has increased; the bad news is that it has lost its due effect, and I should change to a set of more intense movements.

People should constantly step out of their comfort zone.

My brain is willing, really—and to that, my heart reluctantly agrees.

But my lungs don't want to.

Eventually, my lungs dictated that I do 15 minutes of radio gymnastics-intensity exercise.I didn't even sweat much.

Passing by the HDB flat where I often go to buy dinner, the national flag is hung on the outside of the corridor close to the street.The weather forecast originally said that there would be rain in a large area today, but I don't know if it was artificial rainfall in advance or what. When I went out, the temperature was just right, and the coat didn't feel hot when I put it on my arm.

"The weather is very comfortable today. I'll be at your house in 10 minutes." I sent a message to Miss Pender.

Miss Pender: "Can you come upstairs?"

She came back quickly.

Of course I have no reason to refuse.

There is a podcast related to the history of the Mughal Empire in the earphones. Now I have heard the last paragraph. If nothing else, at least I have a clear understanding of some important South Asian place names, and I can also say Punjab and Mara. land difference.In the future, if she wants to tell me something, I won't be so blind as to be unable to tell the truth from the false.

In terms of language, I simply gave up.The learning materials for the languages ​​of South Asian ethnic minorities in the Chinese category are quite limited, and they are learned in English, and there are no systematic teaching materials that I am familiar with.Hindi is much easier, but Miss Pande can't speak it, and it's useless for me to learn it.

But maybe her dad's native language is Hindi?

I don't know why, but thinking of this, my face became hot.

Are you thinking too much?

When I got out of the elevator, I found the door was open, and Miss Pender was waiting for me at the door.She was wearing a threaded, slim-fit white T-shirt, her hair was tied up, and her neck was exposed, so eye-catching.

I went up to meet him: "I'm late? Are you ready to go?"

She shook her head lightly: "Don't worry." As she spoke, she turned her body and motioned for me to enter the door.

There is still a little time, but it is said that she goes to the dance classroom at nine o'clock every Sunday morning, which is not ample time.I didn't know, so I went in, but suddenly I was hugged from behind——

Then came the sound of the door closing.

"What's the matter?" I held her hand and wanted to turn around.

Miss Pender hugged her even tighter, she didn't speak, but shook her head lightly.The heat from her cheeks reflected on her shoulders through the shirt, as if binding me, and wrapping me.

There were emotions fluctuating within Miss Pender.

And her ripples, innocently cruising to my side.

I stopped urging, just touched her arm comfortingly.In a trance, I felt that this scene seemed familiar again, and after thinking about it for a while, I understood, and said, "Afraid that I will miss the appointment?"

"No." She replied in a voice that seemed unassuming, and her breath came to my ears.

I felt a little itchy, so I hid quietly: "Don't you want to look at me? Shall I turn around?"

She stopped talking again, and still hugged me, rubbing her cheeks in her hair without itching.After a while, she said, "Can I just stay like this for a while?"

"Of course." I closed my eyes, still held by her.

Miss Pender seemed very different today.Obviously, before I entered the door, I still saw the familiar and fierce villain, but just turning a corner, no matter how uneasy I was, it was difficult to associate her with some "bad woman".

But still cute.

By the time I realized it, I had been giggling for a few seconds.

She seemed to really like me.

Miss Pender was in her usual style again.The slightly abrupt episode that just happened was like a bird flying across the sky, leaving nothing but memory.On the contrary, it was me, still smiling, her eyes immediately fluctuated when she saw my face.

"You look a little silly," said Miss Pender.

I was upset when I heard this: "I'm not stupid!"

"I mean looks. Appearance never affects a person's intelligence." Still calm, she took my hand, stood a little farther away, and looked at my clothes, "Fudge girl."

I sighed: "Can't you say it's the 'Golden Age'?"

"It depends on when you think of the 'golden age'. Paris in the Belle Epoque, or the golden age in the minds of the surfing generation of Americans after the baby boom..." Her eyes naturally rested on my arm on his jacket, "Oh. I'm going to change my mouth. It's really retro."

She also used the term "Belle Epoque" in French, LaBelleEpoque. This habit of mixing French in English is too easy to give people a sense of sight. I couldn't help but said: "You really look like British and American countries. Intellectuals of origin."

"Ok?"

"You know, their first language is English and they always like to use French words, and sometimes, there is an equivalent expression in English. This common habit of people is like a potential communication threshold... an invisible Membership in an elite club. Discussions on humanistic topics. There is no doubt that English and French are almost inevitable, but I am still confused-you know some people even do this when talking about some clothing materials. Poplin Don't say 'poplin', but say 'popeline', mink also has subdivisions of 'sable' and 'Martre'..."

She looked at me and frowned slightly: "Because France has played the role of Western fashion leader for a long time in the past? And most of the fabric names are originally French."

Center the red heart.

I couldn't think of anything to say back, so I paused and said, "Anyway, people have that impression. You could say it's a stereotype..."

"One thing." Miss Pande looked over and pointed to herself, "My mother tongue is English."

"I know." I froze for a moment.

She pointed to herself again: "And this native English speaker has indeed received a complete higher education in an English-speaking country."

I nodded slowly, "Okay?"

"So what's your point?" She raised an eyebrow, and it was hard to tell whether she was angry or not. "Do you hate me for being mixed with English and French... or do you hate me for being too Western?"

At least for now our hands are still together.

Maybe not so angry?

But I still realized that I said the wrong thing, looked over pitifully, and changed the subject without a trace: "It's not like that. It's just that I don't speak French, and I went to the United States in college. For me, that's more It's like a foreign context... I'm afraid I'm missing a key message because I don't understand a word. Can you understand?"

"I don't speak French either." Her tone grew calmer. "You have a BA in art history, and 'Belle Époque' is like a reflex to you. If I feel That's right, the hidden meaning behind your words seems to be that you think I'm not Eastern enough, not Indian enough."

It’s over.

Angry.

I grabbed her other hand almost subconsciously, moved closer to her, and whispered: "Sonia..."

She glanced at me helplessly: "It's not a high school student anymore."

I still acted coquettishly: "I didn't mean that, really."

"So am I Eastern enough for you?" She looked over, "Do I have to wear a sari, eat curry and Eastern European food, and go to Holy Communion every week to be considered culturally appropriate? "

"Uh," I froze for a moment, completely confused, "I'm sorry I offended you earlier—"

Suddenly, my hand was empty.Miss Pender took her hand away.

"How would you feel? If I saw you and say 'Wow, your English is really good, Yao', emphasizing the articulation of 'Yao' in an awkward, Indo-European way, and marvel that you never Not wearing an Ao Dai or a kimono," she looked at me extremely calmly, her eyes were completely different from the provocation in her words, "how do you think you will feel?"

I calmly took a breath.

I remember I just hinted at her not to speak French words to me?

--Oh.

"They" those whose first language is English...

"Sonia." I looked at her steadily, "I don't know anything about your cultural background."

She raised her eyelids slightly, but didn't speak.

I continued: "Seriously, you're attractive, you used to be, and you're only more attractive now. But it's not just your body that's attractive to me - of course you're also attractive, there's no denying that - For me, the way you look at the world, your standpoint in dealing with affairs, your personality, the songs you like to listen to, the way you walk... your past journey, future plans, these are what fascinate me The reason. I am not dating you because of the color of your skin, nor because of some mysterious place you come from."

Miss Pender tilted her head, motioning for me to continue.

I wasn't sure what she was thinking, so I bite the bullet and observed her expression while talking: "Uh, I understand that my understanding of you is still very shallow, frankly speaking, before this year, I didn't know that after the Maurya Dynasty There is still such a long period of fighting against foreigners, well, I don't know that there are many famous whiskeys in Poland..."

"You don't care about my culture." She looked at me.

I thought about it for a while, and instead of denying it, I said, "I would say that we are fairly fair in this matter. Ao Dai is nothing more than that. The syllable of 'kimono' is not a product of Chinese culture, right?"

"It depends on what 'Chinese' is." She smiled half-smile, "At least I didn't point to ninjutsu and say it's kung fu."