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Finals begin today, in another... six and a half hours. Calc 3 at 8 am, and then inorganic chem at 11:30. I am very stressed--especially about calc, because I really, really want an A in that class.
I am sure that somewhere, deep down inside of me, there's a voice in my head that knows I'll be okay. Unfortunately, I'm having a hard time hearing it right now.
Wish me luck. I think I'm only going to study for another half hour, call it a night, and go to sleep.
Today, as I was driving down 141, I saw two Canadian geese waddling around on the grassy median in between the lanes of traffic. Their necks were straight, heads held high, surveying the cars whizzing by. My mom and I speculated about whether they might be lost or, maybe, just taking a break from flying.
Geese on a highway median! I swear I heard them honk at me as I turned my head and passed them by.
I don't really know what my plans for this summer are.
Okay, so I'll be taking CS1322, making the 45-minute commute from home to Tech every Tuesday and Thursday.
And I'm hoping that my summer will include one or all of the following: impromptu ultimate frisbee games at Wills Park, free concerts, hanging out with both old high school and new college friends, reading. Maybe I'll get a job, maybe not. But for once, I won't mind so much if I'm not productive. This year, I am changing my expectations:
I just want summer to surprise me.
I really like this post.
This sounds incredibly dorky, but I actually think the extra credit assignment for my CS class is pretty damn cool.
Earlier today I was feeling pretty crappy.
It was one of those days where I found myself thinking too much: examining how other people seemed so much more focused about--well, everything--than I was. Wondering whether I'd ever find my niche here. Wondering about... other things. Berating myself for spending all of dead week so far either sleeping, chatting online, or wasting time.
It got the point where I finally had to tear myself away from the computer, turn up some music, and lie down on the bed, head buried in the pillows and eyes closed... just so I could stop the pointless, frantic racing-in-circles of my mind.
I woke up about an hour later, my mind a little clearer. Some of my friends over on west campus were having a grill-out/birthday party, and, in what was probably one of the best decisions I've made all week, I got my ass up out of bed and went. Admittedly, at first, I wasn't too excited about it. But I really didn't have an excuse not to go, and it was a beautiful afternoon, and I really just needed to get out, so I trekked over to west.
Thank god I went. I got to see a lot of my old west campus friends, and meet some new ones, too. There was good food, lots of laughter, lots of smiles, lots of hugs, lots of people who were glad to see me, which felt--really nice. :) I finally was able to forgot about myself and my own worries for a while, and the crappy feelings from earlier today melted away.
And when I walked back from west, the sky was beginning to turn dark, and I found that there was something beautiful about almost everything I saw: the lighted campanile and fountain at night; the almost-full moon; the way my shadow changed and shifted as I walked under the streetlamps on Skiles walkway; the two guys absorbed in a game of chess out in the FE courtyard. I walked slowly back to my dorm, savoring the fresh air and the clear sky and the quiet, thinking about how good it is to have friends, and to be loved, in all the different ways there are to be loved.
I'm about to go to sleep, I swear.
But today I was feeling poetic, and didn't feel like studying. So I went over to the little garden behind Skiles, settled down on a bench underneath some trees, and read peacefully, not minding the bees buzzing around and every so often looking up from my book to watch a butterfly or robin pass lazily by. I read for about two hours, got through almost all of my book, and now before I go to sleep I'm going to finish the last 50 pages or so I have left.
And I'm also going to leave you with a quote. :) All of Madeleine L'Engle's books are full of quoteworthy passages, but here's one I particularly like.
The times I have been most fully me are when I have been wholly involved in someone or something else; when I am listening, rather than talking; cooking a special, festive dinner; struggling with a fugue at the piano; putting a baby to bed; writing. A long-dead philosopher said that if we practice dying enough during our lives we will hardly notice the moment of transition when the actual time comes. But I am far from a saint, and I am seldom able to practice consciously this kind of dying; it is not a do-it-yourself activity. I know about it only after it has happened, and I am only now beginning to recognize it for what it is.
Oh, why can't I be as charming and witty and profound in person as I am in AIM conversations?
Cool.
Dammit, I was all set to write about a bunch of stuff, but I just spent about two hours on that last entry, just because shit kept happening: my computer crashed, I accidently erased my edited version and had to re-edit it again, etc.
I'm discouraged now, so I think I'll come back later. Sigh.
A while ago I read in my sister's blog about a debate that had been going on between her and her friends about the Taiwan/China controversy. For those of you who aren't really familiar with this issue: it's a really touchy topic, and I wish I had some links to information about it. But you can read the debate in their journals here, here, and here. (If you really want to understand where I'm coming from when I write this entry, you should read all of those links.)
So first of all, it surprises me that my sister's friends are even having a debate about such a controversial issue as this. Secondly, the depth, maturity, and (in most cases) understanding that they're showing in their journal entries amazes and impresses me. (I don't mean to sound condescending by saying that; my sister's a freshman in high school, which isn't young at all--but my thoughts tend to get skewed, just because, well, she's my little sister.)
It's been a while since I've had to face this issue, but this past weekend it unexpectedly reared its ugly head, almost touching on exactly the same things that my sister and her friends had been debating in their journals. Sunday we had a staff meeting for next year, and before the meeting began the six girls from my building were just chatting. Brown Residence Hall--the building I'll be a PL in--is a small dorm, and out of the six PLs, four of us are Asian. We were talking about where we were from (which isn't really the right thing to ask, since I'm "from" Miami, but whatever):
Yalan: "I'm Chinese."
Sheila: "Filipino."
Adrian (who's not Asian), turning to me: "Chinese, right?"
Me, shaking my head: "No, I'm Taiwanese."
Yalan, rolling her eyes, which annoys me more than I let on: "It's the same thing! You're Chinese."
Charlene: "Yeah, my parents are from Taiwan, but I consider myself Chinese."
What was I supposed to do? All I could say was, "I'm Taiwanese; let's not start." And thankfully the meeting began, and the subject was dropped.
But that makes me question my own beliefs. How strongly do I feel? Not strongly enough to argue about it with the girls in my section; especially since I don't think anyone's views would change.
What also makes it difficult is that I can't speak about it objectively. Ever since I can remember, my parents, and other members of the Taiwanese community, have pounded it into my head: that I'm Taiwanese and not Chinese, that whenever someone asks you what nationality you are, that's what you should answer, no matter what dismissive things people might say. I have memories of situations like this as far back as elementary school, as far back as first or second grade.
But it's been a while since I've had a confrontation, and what happened Sunday reminded me that it's a very real thing that I have to deal with, no matter how much I try to avoid it by not joining organizations like CSA and shit (which is entirely another entry in itself).
But reading some of the debate going on in my sister's journal, I've noticed some points that I keep coming back to, and while they don't makes things clearer, they're something to think about. First of all, it's sad when this sort of thing comes between friends, and I'm glad that Christine and Robin didn't let it ruin their friendship, because it's almost happened to me before. And I would rather it not be an issue next year when it comes to working with my building staff.
Secondly, there's the question about whether I consider myself more American than Taiwanese. Vincent, another one of my sister's friends, wrote that he considers himself American. Just that: not Taiwanese or Chinese; therefore, the issue of Taiwan/China is moot. But I can't entirely agree with that, either. It's true that I consider myself more American than Taiwanese--because hell, I grew up here, and along with growing up here comes American culture and lifestyle and education. But still, it's like... even though the fabric that makes up me is made in America, there's bits and pieces of Taiwanese thread--beliefs and habits and how I was brought up, even the seemingly superficial stuff like Taiwanese food and whatever--that's intertwined in there, too. When I visit Taiwan, I don't feel like a stranger; part of me wishes I were more in tune with my Taiwanese heritage.
And then there's the question of just how much of this issue is my own belief, and how much is my parents'? I don't know; I can't separate the two.
So despite my attempts at objectivity, I have to say this: if you're Chinese-American, and you refuse to acknowledge that Taiwan is fighting for democracy, when you are living in a country that is the epitome (whether it be entirely true or not) of democracy, how is that not hypocritical? Isn't there something inherently flawed?
But. There's more to the post than politics, because, frankly, I don't know much about politics.
The point is this: I am really proud of my sister. It surprises me how strongly she feels about this, and the events of the past few days have made me appreciate that. And it also makes me realize that I underestimate her sometimes. Even though I'm the older sister, and am supposed to set the example, I forget sometimes that... there's a lot I can learn from her, too.
This past Saturday TACL had another game night, which turned out to be a lot more relaxed and laid back than last time, mostly because we ordered pizza and subs instead of making me in charge of all the food (long story). A TACL representative from LA, Rob Liu, was flying in to talk to the officers about summer programs and TACL-sponsored internships and activism and such, and so I dropped by to hear him talk, but it ended up that I had to go pick up the pizza, so I didn't really get to hear what he had to say.
But here's the point of all this: at the very beginning, when Rob introduced himself, he said that he had gone to Berkeley, "the best school in the country," in his words. And then someone mentioned something about Georgia Tech and he kind of made a dismissive gesture.
And to my own surprise, I found myself more than a little offended, more than a little annoyed by his superior attitude, and I said defensively, "Hey, I go to Georgia Tech. I like it."
JLEE7113: we have one more week of school!!!!
JLEE7113: eeeeeeeeee
JLEE7113: and it's a beautiful day
JLEE7113: aaand
airuphere82: it is so nice - i have been driving around all day
JLEE7113: it's been a good week
JLEE7113: and i'm happy
JLEE7113: cool :)
airuphere82: yeah it has been good - in retrospect
JLEE7113: like
JLEE7113: i think it's been one of the most hellish weeks in a while
JLEE7113: in terms of work
JLEE7113: but... really fulfilling, somehow
airuphere82: yeah i agree
JLEE7113: :)
You know, when it comes to guys, and boyfriends, my attitude is pretty much summarized by this:
You can't make someone love you. All you can do is be someone who can be loved. The rest is up to them.
I've never been the flirty type; I'd infinitely prefer just being really good friends with a guy than dating him.
But still, sometimes I feel an overwhelming need just to have someone put his arm around me, just to have a shoulder to lean against... that's all.
Still have shit to do. Still haven't done it.
Maybe I should pull an all-nighter, just so I don't have to later on this week. I don't know if I can bring myself to do that, though. I don't have access to any caffeine, and the bed looks so... good.
Sigh, moan, gripe. What banal content I've been posting in here lately. Okay, it's back to chem homework, I suppose.
Oh, I have shit to do. Why am I not doing it?
I registered for fall semester today.
Here's what my schedule will probably look like: I'm taking intro to electrical/computer engineering, intro to signal processing, differential equations (honors!), economics, and orchestra. That adds up to only 15 hours. Even though I know that's not slacking (especially by Tech standards), and even though I don't doubt that it will be a tough 15 hours (especially with signal processing and diffEQ), for some reason, I still feel as though I should be doing... more.
"And in the morning, girl, I'm gonna pour you a bowl of Count Chocula, and I'm gonna pull some of the oat pieces out, so it tastes like there's just more marshmallow. 'Cause that's how much I care about you, girl! Girl, I would change up the marshmallow-to-oat ratio for you."
So it's raining today, and the forecast predicts rain tomorrow, too, which is kind of disappointing, especially because some friends and I had planned to go to the zoo this weekend.
But on the upside, I decided this morning to wear some old cut-off jeans and sandals and splash unafraid through puddles today. There was this nice, big one near Skiles, almost three inches deep and maybe a couple of feet wide. From under my umbrella, I couldn't tell if anyone was watching me as I plunged through the super-puddle, but if I did get any looks from people walking by, I'll bet they were looks of envy. It is a Friday, after all. ;)
Three things:
I had the strangest, longest, most involved dream last night. I don't remember much about it, though. Something about a Tori Amos concert featuring Tom Petty and *NSync. And being chased by a cave troll and led along winding wooden hallways by a hobbit.
Maybe too much sleep is not such a good thing, after all.
I haven't showered since Saturday night, I didn't bother to put on my contact lenses this morning, and I've been wearing my pajamas all day.
What the hell happened to my sense of personal hygiene? I need to get my shit together.
I discovered the other day that my digital camera, despite its ghettoness, does have a macro focus option that lets me take pictures of things up close.
macro + springtime + a lazy afternoon = a walk around campus + lots of pictures of flowers (the header image is one of them). :)
Yesterday was Field Day, which is basically a day where PLs get to know each other and the PAs (Peer Advisors, who are PL supervisors) through field-day-ish/team-building activities. It turned out to be a really nice day, and I had a lot more fun than I thought I would--met some cool people that hopefully I'll get to know better next year, since we'll all be working in housing and stuff.
Field Day is also--unofficially--supposed to be a time when PLs are supposed to schmooze with/suck up to PAs, especially if you want to be in a specific PA's section, a certain building, or a particular side of campus. I don't really have a preference, and so I really didn't do that much sucking up. But I still wanted to make a good impression, so I made a big effort to seem friendly and outgoing, and at times... I felt very fake and superficial. And other people sometimes seemed superficial, too.
But I think what really bothered me had nothing to do with other people, or even just Field Day in general. I think... I'm just anxious. I want so much to be a good PL, but I have no idea how it's going to work out--whether I'll bond with the girls in my section next year, whether they'll want to do the activities I plan. During Field Day, the PAs would ask us where we wanted to be next year, and people would answer, "Oh, I'd like to be on west campus," or "I want to be in You-fang's section."
I'd want people to say that about me, someday.
I may have lost an hour because of Daylight Savings Time, but damn, it feels really good to walk outside at 8 pm and have it still be light outside.
I remember this one book I had as a kid: it was a square blue paperback book, about 100 pages long, called "Science Experiments You Can Do!", or something like that. I was still as much a dork back then as I am now, so I used to read it often, thumbing through the pages, stopping at my favorite experiments, admiring the cool pen-and-ink illustrations. I never was patient or adventurous enough to actually do all but a few of them (those were usually the ones that only involved paper and scissors or other materials I had easy access to).
But, as science books usually are, there was always an explanation, a "Why does this happen/How does this work?" section after the actual procedure for the experiment, and that was the part I loved reading, after I had imagined the experiment in my head and wondered at exactly that.
So I remember this one experiment, a brilliant demonstration of the concept of water pressure, mixed with a little logic. You needed a tall quart milk carton and something sharp to punch holes in it with, some heavy masking tape, and water. You'd poke three holes into one side of carton: one near the very top, one in the middle, and one near the very bottom. Once you had those holes poked, you would cover all three holes with one long strip of masking tape, and then fill the milk carton with water. You'd set the milk carton on a flat surface that would catch water, like a cookie sheet or pan, and then you'd rip off the masking tape so that all three holes were uncovered at once, and watch three streams of water leak out. And the question was: which stream of water would travel the farthest?
Unfortunately, that was one of the experiments I never did, because, well, 1. we bought milk in plastic gallon jugs, 2. you were supposed to get an adult to help you poke the holes in the milk carton, and 3. I was always wary of water experiments because of the mess I might make.
But that was okay, because there was the answer, on the right hand column of the page: the water coming from the middle hole would travel the farthest.
Why? Because the lower the hole was in the carton, the more water pressure there was on the water coming out of the hole, and thus the farther that stream of water would travel. But wait--why, then, didn't the water from the bottom hole travel the farthest? Because, the book said knowingly, the bottom hole was so close to the table surface that it would hit the table before it got a chance to travel very far.
Ohhh, I'd nod, enlightened. And then--I was proud of myself for thinking about this--I'd reason, "Ah ha! Well, I bet--if you put the milk carton on the edge of a table, the bottom one would travel the farthest then, because there wouldn't be anything for it to hit!"
And I'd smile and revel in my own cleverness, and turn the page and go on to the next experiment.
As I was taking a shower last night, I looked up at the shower head and watched the water spray down out of the holes. And then I looked down at the tiles and watched the water run into the drain, and I thought, "It's all physics, baby," and thought of my old blue science-for-kids book, sitting in a taped-up box outside the door of my room, and resolved that the next time I go home for the weekend, I'd dig it out and read through it again.
Funny, how you are reminded of things sometimes.
Nope, didn't go to practice.
Nothing in motion, and I�m satisfied
No disappointment, until I wake up
Don�t want to wake up
--Dishwalla, "Until I Wake Up"
And--it's nice outside!
On a brighter note, I got a 100 on my chem test. Whee. Haven't seen one of those since the beginning of the school year.
From: Jennifer Lee
To: Jennifer M. Hinkel
Subject: Eeek, I don't think I can write this week
Jen,
Sri IMmed me last night around 10 saying that you wanted me to write something this week. I feel really bad about this, especially since I didn't write anything last week, either, but I don't think I'll be able to contribute this week. I have a lot of stuff going on, especially today, and I don't think I'd have the time to do the research for/put together an article so last-minute, and have it ready by tonight. :( I'm really sorry!
Jennifer
Yep. So it's official: I'm not going to write anything this week. The worst part about it, though, is that the whole part about "not having any time" is a lie, and I know it.
It's not just the paper, either: this Sunday is sectionals for ultimate frisbee, and I'm not sure if I want to go, partly because I'm not very good (which is always a lingering doubt and excuse for me), partly because I haven't been to practice in forever, and, I guess, partly because of this utter lack of motivation I feel. Whether I go to practice this afternoon will probably be the deciding factor: if I don't make practice, I probably won't go to sectionals. I'm still debating.
I'm not feeling too guilty about all this, which is weird. It's probably because I keep telling myself that I'm just in a slump right now, that this'll pass soon, and that school is almost over and I can just come back next year, refreshed and with a better attitude.
Eh. I think... I'm going to go take a nap.
A friend of mine who's also on the Focus staff for the paper IMmed me last night around 10 saying that Jen (Focus editor) wanted me to write something for this week. Then he forwarded me an email from Jen with story ideas for the week. None of the ideas really appealed to me. And I have no idea why she didn't send it to me directly; I'm on the mailing list and I write regularly... maybe she just forgot. Sigh.
So the deadline is tonight, and you know what? Screw it. I don't have the time, or the energy, to run around and find people to interview so I can write a last-minute article. I had to do that two weeks ago, and it sucked.
I still feel kind of guilty, though. I can't decide whether it's Jen's fault for not emailing me, or my fault for not taking the initiative and asking if she wanted stories for the week.
And... I don't know. I haven't been feeling very motivated lately.
It's not a good sign when the last three meals you've eaten have either been ramen or easymac.
I saw Tenacious D at the Tabernacle tonight!
Dorsher, Andy and I headed down there around 3:30-ish, brought lawn chairs with us, and basically spent the afternoon chilling outside the Tabernacle until the doors opened at 7. Luckily, it was a really nice day, and we spent most of the time either reading (in Andy and Dorsher's case), napping (in my case), or just watching downtown life go by around us.
We were one of the first people in line, so we were able to get right up to the front--first row, center stage--and it was great. Tenacious D is hilarious; the show was lots of fun. For two guys on acoustic guitar, they totally rock.