
Blind date: ‘I studied Mandarin Chinese in college. He smiled and immediately responded in Chinese.'
26 / data scientist
What makes her a catch:
She thinks about others a lot and values relationships.
Her interests:
Reading, running
7 P.M. KRASI, BOSTON
Lots of Laughs
Aldis
I arrived early. I reviewed the wine list awkwardly and tried not to look expectant.
Gretchen
He was sitting in the restaurant as I walked in. He was very handsome and well dressed in a baby-blue pinstripe button-down and khakis.
Aldis
I remember thinking she was beautiful even before it was clear that she was actually my date. She was wearing a blue dress and had a beautiful smile. I botched the greeting and did this weird handshake-hug-handshake movement that she gracefully turned into a hug.
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Gretchen
I mistakenly reached out for a handshake then converted it to a hug, which made us both laugh. Aldis asked if I had been to Krasi before. We laughed when we realized that both of us had requested it — he had been there before, and my friends had recommended it — for our dinner.
Greek to Mandarin
Aldis
From the first moment, there was not a single lull in conversation.
Gretchen
We talked about his residency program, which launched us into conversations about our ties to the medical world. At some point, we moved on to running. I found it particularly interesting that we both run as a way to release energy and are not very interested in racing, unique in the distance running world.
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Aldis
We were there for two hours and talked nonstop. We shared a lot of interests. We both run, are early birds, and carry a book wherever we go.
Gretchen
I mentioned that I studied Mandarin Chinese in college. He smiled and immediately responded in Chinese. I tried to keep up, but he definitely has a better command of the language than I do. I was shocked we had this in common.
Aldis
She was a great listener and there was a lot of laughter. I realized I had a crush on her pretty early on.
Gretchen
What was surprisingly most attractive was how he lit up when he talked about his family and friends. He seemed to really care about other people, something I really value.
Aldis
We had the Robola white wine. Appetizers included charred eggplant, asparagus, and chickpea fritters. We had a delicious fish dish, as well as souvla — probably my favorite.
Gretchen
I had never before tasted anything like any of the dishes [we had] and was so impressed. We wrapped up with the rice pudding.
In Agreement
Aldis
The waiter floated the idea of going to a speakeasy nearby, but we are both early birds and had work the next day.
Gretchen
The time passed so quickly, I couldn't believe that it had been over two hours.
Aldis
We exchanged numbers. I did ask if she would want to meet up for another date and she said yes.
Gretchen
We hugged and parted ways.
Second Date?
Aldis
That's the plan!
Gretchen
I would love to continue our conversations and see what else we may have in common.
Grading the Date
Aldis / A
Gretchen / B+
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NBC News
7 hours ago
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Vampires, romance and billionaires: The bite-size Chinese shows gaining U.S. fans
HONG KONG — As U.S. television series produce longer and fewer episodes, a new genre from China is gaining American fans by going in the opposite direction. Known as minidramas, micro dramas or vertical dramas, they are soap operas condensed into a minute or two per episode. Each show, reminiscent of a telenovela, is split into dozens of chapters, each about two minutes long and with all the soapy elements: cheesy romance, over-the-top drama and abundant cliff-hangers. 'The revenge ones, oh, my God, they're so good,' California-based retail business owner Jacarius Murphy told NBC News in a video interview. Murphy is a fan of the minidramas, known as duanju in Chinese, which focus heavily on romance, revenge and fantasy. The stories tend to involve wealthy characters such as a chief executive who's secretly a vampire or a billionaire living a double life — characters often played by American actors. 'People want this fast dopamine hit, and they can snack on it while they're waiting,' said Anina Net, an American actress based in Los Angeles who has worked on minidramas for the past four years. The genre originated in China, where production companies have tapped into the popularity of short-form, vertical-produced, TikTok-style video content. About half of China's 1.4 billion people consume dramas in this style, according to a report released in March by the state-owned China Netcasting Services Association. The industry made $6.9 billion in revenue last year, more than China's total box office sales. The shows are 'still quite limited in genre, mostly romance-focused, with sweet, domineering CEO tropes and modern settings,' said Kaidi Dai, a Shanghai-based minidrama producer. Now, having figured out the Chinese market, the same companies are expanding into the U.S., where minidramas are finding success just a few years after the failure of Quibi, a short-lived, short-form mobile streaming service. The shows are available on platforms such as ReelShort, DramaBox and GoodShort, which offers free episodes and in-app purchases as well as subscriptions. Minidramas cost far less to make than standard TV shows and can make millions of dollars in revenue through a combination of user purchases and advertising. But adapting them to the U.S. market takes some tweaking, said Chinese filmmaker Gao Feng, also known as Frank Tian, who has a minidrama production company based in New York. Rather than remaking Chinese shows, his company hired longtime U.S. residents to craft stories that would appeal to American audiences. 'I believe that scripts determine 65-70% of a project's success,' he said in an interview. 'Apart from werewolves, CEO romances and hidden identities, we should explore new genres.' While many short dramas have been based on successful Chinese stories, 'if a platform cannot innovate continuously, it will face significant challenges,' he added. Among the most popular shows is 'The Double Life of My Billionaire Husband,' which tells the story of a woman whose husband is better off financially than he appears. All 60 episodes can be viewed in less than 70 minutes on ReelShort, the California-based, Chinese-backed minidrama platform that released it in 2023. 'Hilariously bad, oddly addictive,' reads one IMDb review of the show, which had more than 485 million views on ReelShort as of Friday. The Chinese-backed short-video app has vied with TikTok as the most popular product in the entertainment section of Apple's U.S. app store. 'The short videos on TikTok have laid a solid foundation for the popularity of short dramas,' Yan Min, who helped organize an industry conference in China last year, said in an interview. Min said ReelShort and other companies were advertising on platforms such as YouTube and TikTok to attract new users, catering to the 'evolving viewing habits of younger generations, who have grown up with platforms like TikTok and are accustomed to short, engaging content.' U.S. entertainment companies have taken notice of the trend. Netflix said in May that it was testing a vertical feed made up of clips from its shows and movies, while Disney said last month that it was investing in DramaBox through its accelerator program. Though minidramas seeking U.S. audiences are increasingly using actors with American backgrounds, they often shoot in scenic Chinese locations like the coastal city of Qingdao, with its Western-style villas and architecture, for greater authenticity. 'We seek actors and screenwriters who grew up in the U.S. and naturally embody an American style. Then we incorporate some Chinese elements,' said Ann An, a Beijing-based freelance producer for several minidramas made for foreign audiences. Turnarounds are incredibly fast in the industry as producers strive to keep costs low. An said a show can finish filming in 10 days, with a budget of under $70,000. The biggest key to the success of minidramas, though, is the cliff-hangers, which push viewers to keep paying for the next episode. 'The scriptwriters know exactly where to place these cliff-hangers, and they execute them very well,' said Apple Yang, a minidrama director based in London. That helps explain the appeal of minidramas even if their overall quality is sometimes 'underwhelming,' said Ying Zhu, a professor at Hong Kong Baptist University's Academy of Film. 'Make the dialogue real and less mechanic. Make it funny when possible and biting when needed,' Zhu said. 'One minute can pack in a lot of info if done well.'

a day ago
RushTok backlash: Why sororities aren't letting prospects post
TUSCALOOSA, Ala. -- Kylan Darnell became an overnight celebrity in the TikTok niche that documents the glitzy, ritualistic recruitment process for sororities. As a 21-year-old rising senior four years later, she's taking more of her sorority life offline. Darnell has until now been the embodiment of RushTok, a week-long marathon that has teens at schools around the country meticulously documenting their efforts to land a cherished spot in a sorority during the colorful, girly and enigmatic recruitment process known as rush week. Reactions to the content that once catapulted her to fame — depicting her life as a Zeta Tau Alpha member at the University of Alabama — had become so negative that it was affecting her mental health, she said. 'This year it was just like a whole different level of hate," Darnell said. Citing a need to protect prospects from harassment, many sororities have made similar moves, issuing a de facto ban against talking to the press or posting on social media during rush week at Alabama, where almost 13,000 students participate in the nation's largest on-campus Greek life. Across the country, rush is typically a 10-day event where 'prospective new members' try out sororities through rounds of activities prescribing a strict slate of outfits and etiquette. In the lead-up, girls often submit "social resumes" and letters of recommendation from sorority alums. Participation often requires an eye-opening price tag. After spending sometimes tens of thousands of dollars on outfits, makeup and plane tickets, each of this week's 2,600 recruits paid $550 to participate. It's non-refundable if they don't get picked. If accepted, they'll pay an average $8,400 a semester to live in the sorority house, or $4,100 if they live elsewhere, according to the Alabama Panhellenic Association. The pressure can be so intense that an industry of consultants now helps girls navigate the often mysterious criteria for landing a desired sorority. Some charge up to $10,000 for months of services that can begin in high school. Throughout rush, many events are invite-only. At any point, girls can get a dreaded call informing them they've been dropped — that a sorority is no longer interested in letting them join. Matches are finally made on bid day as prospects rank top choices and sororities make offers. Morgan Cadenhead, now 20, gained such an audience on RushTok despite being dropped that she covered most of her tuition with income from social media. Then came the social cost as she was slammed online for criticizing Greek life. Now the marketing major — featured on Lifetime's 'Sorority Mom's Guide to Rush!' — said she's looking for offline work. A fixation with rush was renewed when sororities resumed in-person recruiting after the pandemic. Social media became flooded with 'outfit of the day' and 'get ready with me' videos showing sorority members and recruits in well-lit rooms, sometimes flaunting exorbitantly priced designer wear or pieces purchased on Amazon, always precisely curated. Alabama's Greek life got attention before, when its traditionally white sororities racially integrated, accepting their first Black members in 2013. Targeted by protests following allegations of racial discrimination, the university agreed with the Justice Department in 2016 to encourage diversity. Today, Black students outside of traditionally Black sororities and fraternities represent 2% of the total Greek membership, the university website says. Meanwhile, online attention to rush has led to books, a polarizing documentary and the reality television series, widening the appeal of sororities in the South in particular, according to Lorie Stefaneli, a New York City-based consultant who flies to Tuscaloosa each year for rush. Stefaneli coaches girls from around the country, and about a third of her clients enroll at Alabama. She says many are drawn by the vibrant depictions of sisterhood, showing female friendships that can ensure girls feel seen and supported. 'That's the reason why a lot of them want to go to Alabama, is because they see it on TikTok,' Stefaneli said. If they gain enough followers to become social influencers, RushTok participants can earn ad revenue and brand deals. Darnell's posts brought her financial independence, more than covering the $58,000 it costs her annually to attend Alabama from out-of-state. Rush can be fun and help girls build confidence, but it's also an 'emotional rollercoaster,' especially for girls who feel they need to reveal themselves to a massive audience, Stefaneli said. She answers phone calls at all hours of the night during rush week. 'I'm literally a therapist, I'm talking these girls down from a ledge,' she said. Numerous incoming freshmen told The Associated Press this week that they were expressly prohibited from speaking with the media or even posting about rush at Alabama. Darnell said the most selective 'Old Row' houses will automatically drop prospects who do. 'Now a lot of girls just come to the university to be influencers,' she said. 'It kind of gets in the way of sisterhood.' Some incoming freshmen — including Darnell's 19-year-old sister Izzy, with a vast social media following of her own — have chosen to post anyway, satisfying a demand that can reach millions of views within days. Izzy Darnell — who wouldn't share her choices for sorority ahead of Saturday's bid day — said her older sister's acumen has equipped her to navigate criticism and potentially predatory business deals. But she worries about how other girls might handle the fame and money. 'I just fear what some girls will do because they think they have to,' Izzy Darnell said.


San Francisco Chronicle
a day ago
- San Francisco Chronicle
RushTok backlash: Why sororities aren't letting prospects post
TUSCALOOSA, Ala. (AP) — Kylan Darnell became an overnight celebrity in the TikTok niche that documents the glitzy, ritualistic recruitment process for sororities. As a 21-year-old rising senior four years later, she's taking more of her sorority life offline. Darnell has until now been the embodiment of RushTok, a week-long marathon that has teens at schools around the country meticulously documenting their efforts to land a cherished spot in a sorority during the colorful, girly and enigmatic recruitment process known as rush week. Reactions to the content that once catapulted her to fame — depicting her life as a Zeta Tau Alpha member at the University of Alabama — had become so negative that it was affecting her mental health, she said. 'This year it was just like a whole different level of hate," Darnell said. Citing a need to protect prospects from harassment, many sororities have made similar moves, issuing a de facto ban against talking to the press or posting on social media during rush week at Alabama, where almost 13,000 students participate in the nation's largest on-campus Greek life. A centuries-old tradition Across the country, rush is typically a 10-day event where 'prospective new members' try out sororities through rounds of activities prescribing a strict slate of outfits and etiquette. In the lead-up, girls often submit "social resumes" and letters of recommendation from sorority alums. Participation often requires an eye-opening price tag. After spending sometimes tens of thousands of dollars on outfits, makeup and plane tickets, each of this week's 2,600 recruits paid $550 to participate. It's non-refundable if they don't get picked. If accepted, they'll pay an average $8,400 a semester to live in the sorority house, or $4,100 if they live elsewhere, according to the Alabama Panhellenic Association. The pressure can be so intense that an industry of consultants now helps girls navigate the often mysterious criteria for landing a desired sorority. Some charge up to $10,000 for months of services that can begin in high school. Throughout rush, many events are invite-only. At any point, girls can get a dreaded call informing them they've been dropped — that a sorority is no longer interested in letting them join. Matches are finally made on bid day as prospects rank top choices and sororities make offers. Morgan Cadenhead, now 20, gained such an audience on RushTok despite being dropped that she covered most of her tuition with income from social media. Then came the social cost as she was slammed online for criticizing Greek life. Now the marketing major — featured on Lifetime's 'Sorority Mom's Guide to Rush!' — said she's looking for offline work. A zealous TikTok following A fixation with rush was renewed when sororities resumed in-person recruiting after the pandemic. Social media became flooded with 'outfit of the day' and 'get ready with me' videos showing sorority members and recruits in well-lit rooms, sometimes flaunting exorbitantly priced designer wear or pieces purchased on Amazon, always precisely curated. Alabama's Greek life got attention before, when its traditionally white sororities racially integrated, accepting their first Black members in 2013. Targeted by protests following allegations of racial discrimination, the university agreed with the Justice Department in 2016 to encourage diversity. Today, Black students outside of traditionally Black sororities and fraternities represent 2% of the total Greek membership, the university website says. Meanwhile, online attention to rush has led to books, a polarizing documentary and the reality television series, widening the appeal of sororities in the South in particular, according to Lorie Stefaneli, a New York City-based consultant who flies to Tuscaloosa each year for rush. Stefaneli coaches girls from around the country, and about a third of her clients enroll at Alabama. She says many are drawn by the vibrant depictions of sisterhood, showing female friendships that can ensure girls feel seen and supported. 'That's the reason why a lot of them want to go to Alabama, is because they see it on TikTok,' Stefaneli said. Recruits told to stop posting — or else If they gain enough followers to become social influencers, RushTok participants can earn ad revenue and brand deals. Darnell's posts brought her financial independence, more than covering the $58,000 it costs her annually to attend Alabama from out-of-state. Rush can be fun and help girls build confidence, but it's also an 'emotional rollercoaster,' especially for girls who feel they need to reveal themselves to a massive audience, Stefaneli said. She answers phone calls at all hours of the night during rush week. 'I'm literally a therapist, I'm talking these girls down from a ledge,' she said. Numerous incoming freshmen told The Associated Press this week that they were expressly prohibited from speaking with the media or even posting about rush at Alabama. Darnell said the most selective 'Old Row' houses will automatically drop prospects who do. 'Now a lot of girls just come to the university to be influencers,' she said. 'It kind of gets in the way of sisterhood.' Some incoming freshmen — including Darnell's 19-year-old sister Izzy, with a vast social media following of her own — have chosen to post anyway, satisfying a demand that can reach millions of views within days. Izzy Darnell — who wouldn't share her choices for sorority ahead of Saturday's bid day — said her older sister's acumen has equipped her to navigate criticism and potentially predatory business deals. But she worries about how other girls might handle the fame and money. 'I just fear what some girls will do because they think they have to,' Izzy Darnell said.