Happy 2015

Hooray, I woke up in the wee hours by the noise of firecrackers. It was after 12 midnight. The crowd at the foot of Taipei 101 overlooking the astonishing 3D fireworks 2015 iSee Taiwan from the sky were ready to head home. In my dream I saw the fireworks of different colors for 218 seconds to fuse different populations and cultures stretching from ancient to modern backgrounds. I heard the accompanied theme music at the beginning of year 2015 featuring Taiwanese aboriginal artists' voice remixing Antonio Vivaldi's Four Seasons with four Taiwanese folk songs, 思想起, 草蜢弄雞公, 採茶歌, 丟丟銅 in Spring, Summer, Autumn and Winter respectively. My stomach cramps were still with me there. I shouldn't have eaten that much on the last day of 2014.

"Happy New Year! Your LINE is ready to connect you with your friends," my husband whispered into my ears that I'd officially been connected by LINE before I got up. On the first day of year 2015, I succumb to the powerful telecommunication application. No matter how much golden ladies had opted for Line to share instant messages and photos, I didn't feel excluded until I heard Linda's comments about LINE at the year-end afternoon gathering.

"LINE is more courteous than calling people directly," said Linda, "I feel uncomfortable calling friends on the phone abruptly now". What? I need to LINE my husband to inform him of the dinner on the table? In this fast growing society prompted by telecommunication advents, it is time I changed my old thinking and social behaviors accordingly and timely. I don't know when email will become obsolete, but I'm curious how many LINE groups I shall establish in year 2015. How much will I tolerate to have my time being fragmented into pieces of LINE sticker cartoons?

It felt good when I finished watching the American documentary film "Page One: Inside the New York Times" Thursday morning, January 1st, 2015. I added another new year resolution to read the New York Times at least once a week, especially the special excerpt for United Daily News on Tuesdays. Knowing the inside of the New York Times, I shall feel more attached to journalists behind the desktops in Manhattan, New York.