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    I read somewhere that we spend a full third of our lives waiting. But where are we doing all of this waiting, and what does it mean to an impatient society like ours? To understand the issue, let's take a look at three types of “waits”.

    The very purest form of waiting is the Watched-Pot Wait. It is without doubt the most annoying of all. Take filling up the kitchen sink(洗碗池) as an example. There is absolutely nothing you can do while this is going on but keep both eyes fixed on the sink until it's full. During these waits, the brain slips away from the body and wanders about until the water runs over the edge of the counter and onto your socks. This kind of wait makes the waiter helpless and mindless.

    A cousin to the Watched-Pot Wait is the Forced Wait. This one requires a bit of discipline. Properly preparing packaged noodle soup requires a Forced Wait. Directions are very specific. “Bring three cups of water to boil, add mix, simmer three minutes, remove from heat, let stand five minutes.”I have my doubts that anyone has actually followed the procedures strictly. After all, Forced Waiting requires patience.

    Perhaps the most powerful type of waiting is the Lucky-Break Wait. This type of wait is unusual in that it is for the most part voluntary. Unlike the Forced Wait, which is also voluntary, waiting for your lucky break does not necessarily mean that it will happen.

    Turning one's life into a waiting game requires faith and hope, and is strictly for the optimists among us. On the surface it seems as ridiculous as following the directions on soup mixes, but the Lucky-Break Wait well serves those who are willing to do it. As long as one doesn't come to rely on it, wishing for a few good things to happen never hurts anybody.

    We certainly do spend a good deal of our time waiting. The next time you're standing at the sink waiting for it to fill while cooking noodle soup that you'll have to eat until a large bag of cash falls out of the sky, don't be desperate. You're probably just as busy as the next guy.

    Happy, angry, amazed—these are some of the emotions we like to express these days when we're sending a message on our smart phones. That's why many of us now add little pictures to our texts to brighten up someone's mobile screen but we're also using them as a quick way of telling someone how we're feeling. Yes, emojis have become a vital tool for communication.

    Let's clear one thing up first—there are emojis and emoticons (表情符号). The latter are little images made using normal keys on a keyboard. For example, a colon, two dots, followed by the curved line of a close brackets is a “smiley face”.

    The emoji was first invented in Japan in the late 1990s and the word “emoji” comes from the Japanese words for “picture” and “character”. The number of different images has dramatically increased since then and now we have a picture for every mood or situation.

    So now we have the option to give this new creation the visual “thumbs-up” but have you thought why we've become so addicted to using emojis? Professor Vyv Evans who has written a book called The Emoji Code says, “What we're finding is that digital communication is taking over from certain aspects of face-to-face interaction…One of the reasons emojis are so interesting is that they really do enable us to express our emotional selves much more effectively.”

    Another advantage of emojis is that they are an international language—they don't use words but tell a message in pictorial form so they can be easily interpreted whatever your native language.

    Emojis are a good way for showing empathy (共鸣)—they are a virtual hug or an adorable tease. But as linguist Neil Cohn says, “To many, emojis are an exciting evolution of the way we communicate while to others, they are linguistic (语言学的) Armageddon.” It does show there is a lot more to our communication than words alone but does this mean the decline in traditional writing?

    From July to October every year, about a quarter of the world's blue whales feed in the Pacific Ocean off the coast of California. But the whales currently face a major threat in their favorite feeding area. Ships carrying cargo （货物）sail in the same area at the same time. All too often, the whales' paths and the ships' travel lines overlap (重叠), and a ship will hit a whale.

    According to a new study, these ship strikes have become a serious threat to the overall population of the world's blue whales. Only about 10,000 of the creatures still exist worldwide. Blue whales are the largest known animals ever to live on Earth. Even so, if hit by a container ship, a blue whale will likely die from its injuries.

    In 2007 alone, large ships killed five blue whales in the waters off San Francisco and Los Angeles, California. The National Oceanic and Atmospheric Administration (NOAA) says that because there are so few whales already, losing three to five from the California whale population every year is a significant loss. "The estimated population of blue whales in this part of the Pacific is 2,500", says Sean Hastings, a NOAA analyst. "So every whale counts toward this species moving off the endangered-species list."

    Now, marine scientists must figure out how to protect the whales from the giant container ships. One very simple program is already under way in the Santa Barbara Channel, a waterway that separates mainland California from the nearby Channel Islands.

    The Channel Islands National Marine Sanctuary has asked large container ships passing through the area to voluntarily slow down. Sailing slower will allow the ships crew （船员）more time to change course before hitting a whale.

    Several of the world's largest shipping lines are set to participate in the new program. For every ship that passes through the Santa Barbara Channel at or below the reduced speed of 12 knots （海里/小时）, the company that owns the ship will be paid $2,500.

    When Lina was awoken by the sound of thunder, she was alone on the island. The air was cool and bullfrogs croaked. It was that brief moment when the summer sun had set but the stars hadn't yet appeared. Lina rubbed her eyes and looked around.

    "Hello?" she called. "Celia? Marie?"

    There was no response.

    The moon was rising now, shedding light on the island. They had always called it "Forgotten Island" because no one but they seemed to remember its existence. It wasn't on any of the maps they could find, and even the forest rangers didn't know about it. Lina loved that the island, hidden in a heavily-wooded side stream of the river, was a secret between the three friends -her, Celia, and Marie.

    But now Lina was here alone, and it was night. Worse still, it was her own fault.

    "Come on, Lina, let Marie row the boat." Celia had said. Marie was two years older than Lina, but she was a hopeless rower. That's why Lina refused and rowed the boat to the island. The argument that followed the refusal took the usual form. Celia took Marie's side, as she always did. Lina had exploded and yelled at them to just leave. So they got back in the boat and left.

    A bolt of lightning crossed the darkened sky, accompanied by a deafening thunder clap. The storm was here. As the first cold raindrop slid down her neck, Lina's mind returned to her current problem. She was stuck here by herself. She just hoped she didn't become as forgotten as the island. The thought of it sent a chill（寒意）down her back.

    Suddenly, Lina spotted something in the water. It was a boat, and inside it were Marie, Celia, and Marie's dad, who was steering through the fast flowing waters. As the boat approached, they saw Lina waving and the worried expressions on their faces turned to relief.

    In her excitement Lina jumped into the river. Only once she was in the icy water did she remember how fast the water was moving. Luckily a strong arm reached into the water and pulled her out. She smiled weakly at Marie's dad and, without a word, hugged Celia and Marie. They didn't seem to mind becoming wet.

    The huge T­rex (霸王龙) bends over a large triceratops (三角龙) lying on his side below. With its mouth open wide, the T­rex looks ready to kill the triceratops with a final bite to the triceratops's neck. The display will be found at the National Museum of Natural History.

    The museum has sought a huge T­rex skeleton (骨架) for many years. Before, it used a model of one. But museum director Kirk Johnson says that was never good enough. "It's been kind of deeply embarrassing to be the national museum and NOT have a T­rex," he said. The T­rex display is now the centerpiece of the museum's newest show, which will be available to the public on July 15.

    That T­rex, named Sue, was found in South Dakota. Officials at the museum built a special area for the skeleton. It includes a gift store of all things related to Sue. Sue even has her own Twitter account and a media presentation of her life story.

    In modern times, movies like "Jurassic Park (侏罗纪公园)" have helped grow dinosaur interest for a new generation of young fans. But such movies describe the T­rexes as mostly huge, stupid and dangerous animals, which are true threat in the fighting: quick, intelligent and aggressive hunters in groups.

Father's Day is celebrated today in 75 countries around the world. In my personal world, it's a day I like to think of my father's father.

I learned a lot in my later life from my dad. But I learned something else, as a kid not even yet in school, from my grandfather. I learned to be curious. Little things fathers and grandfathers do can change the life of a child forever. In my case, this change came from necessity：My mom needed someone to look after little Allen, barely 4 years old, during the school day. My grandmother volunteered, and my grandfather came up with a way I could be watched while he worked in his clockmaker's shop.

He seated me on a chair every day while I was there, right in front of his big workbench.  He told me stories. He had a great sense of humor and a funny way of making a "buh﹣buh﹣buh" sound when he sensed my attention was weakening, and he encouraged me to ask questions about anything he was doing.

Naturally, I was usually asking questions about clocks﹣what made the hands move, what the pendulum (钟摆) did, why you had to stop winding just before the weight hit the stop.  Sometimes I just asked about which shiny parts went where.

Most of all, he showed me how clocks worked. He treated me as if I were a sort of small grown﹣up. He never talked down to me, never told me I was "too young to understand".

And so my grandfather granted me two things: A love of clocks, and an everlasting curiosity.

As a journalist, I turned that fascination into explanations of why computers and software do what they do﹣﹣and, perhaps even more importantly, why they fail at that task. I haven't been afraid of opening up the innards and looking for what is wrong with the computer.