Monday, June 25, 2007
One Love
On Saturday, my friends and I went to Reggaefest, a yearly outdoor concert series that takes place at a beautiful park on James Island. Every year I look forward to it, and this year was no exception. It was a hot sticky night, but nobody minded. As soon as we got there we were enveloped by great music, all sorts of people, and the most serene and welcoming vibe I had been a part of in a long time. Charleston is generally a divided city -- rich and poor, black and white, young and old -- they seldom come together for the same reasons. Yet here we all were -- all shapes, colors and sizes, jamming to the same beat, sweating in the night, high on life (some probably on more than life) -- overwhelmingly accepting one another as we were. It was just a beautiful, beautiful night.
Friday, June 22, 2007
Medusa Rising
Sometimes you are forced to deal with the darkest side of yourself.
Last night, I got into an argument with my roommate about God and the meaning of existence. He's a Christian; I consider myself agnostic. He was rude, ignorant, and insulting. Accused me of blaspheming and called me soul-less. I got flustered because I was just trying to explain, without judging, how one could believe in something else or nothing at all and still be a decent human being. And instead of taking his insults in, letting myself breathe and stopping to think, I blew up. I was rude, insulting, and ignorant in return. I felt justified at the time because I was hurt. I slammed the door, and the anger seethed inside me for many sleepless hours.
Today, I'm ashamed of how I reacted, and I'm upset at the inability I displayed at controlling my own emotions. Not only that, but the entire episode was ineffectual. He apologized in a lengthy letter for being "unchristian" (note the irony), but I know I didn't make him respect my or anybody else's views any more than before the conversation. And what could I have learned from him? Still, I am perturbed by the rapid and complete transformation that took place in the shortest amount of time. When the nastiest part of my character reared its ugly head, it overpowered my consciousness and acted on its own. I could regret it later, but what's said is said and done is done. Just makes me think about how I would react in different settings --place me in Sierra Leone or Sudan now, Nazi Germany or Stalinist Russia 80 years ago. It's quite the scary thought. Would the part of my character that believes in love and acceptance prevail? Or would I become the righteous monster of last night?
Last night, I got into an argument with my roommate about God and the meaning of existence. He's a Christian; I consider myself agnostic. He was rude, ignorant, and insulting. Accused me of blaspheming and called me soul-less. I got flustered because I was just trying to explain, without judging, how one could believe in something else or nothing at all and still be a decent human being. And instead of taking his insults in, letting myself breathe and stopping to think, I blew up. I was rude, insulting, and ignorant in return. I felt justified at the time because I was hurt. I slammed the door, and the anger seethed inside me for many sleepless hours.
Today, I'm ashamed of how I reacted, and I'm upset at the inability I displayed at controlling my own emotions. Not only that, but the entire episode was ineffectual. He apologized in a lengthy letter for being "unchristian" (note the irony), but I know I didn't make him respect my or anybody else's views any more than before the conversation. And what could I have learned from him? Still, I am perturbed by the rapid and complete transformation that took place in the shortest amount of time. When the nastiest part of my character reared its ugly head, it overpowered my consciousness and acted on its own. I could regret it later, but what's said is said and done is done. Just makes me think about how I would react in different settings --place me in Sierra Leone or Sudan now, Nazi Germany or Stalinist Russia 80 years ago. It's quite the scary thought. Would the part of my character that believes in love and acceptance prevail? Or would I become the righteous monster of last night?
Sunday, May 13, 2007
You know you went to an international school when...
Someone else wrote this, but here are some of my favorites...
1) You can't answer the question: "Where are you from?"
2) You speak two (or more) languages but can't spell in any of them.
3) You flew before you could walk.
4) You run into someone you know at every airport
5) You have a time zone map next to your telephone.
6) Your life story uses the phrase "Then we went to..." five times (or six, or seven times...).
7) You speak with authority on the quality of airline travel.
8) National Geographic (OR THE TRAVEL CHANNEL) makes you homesick.
9) You read the international section before the comics.
10) You don't know where home is.
11) You sort your friends by continent.
12) You feel that multiple passports would be appropriate.
13) You watch a movie set in a 'foreign country', and you know what the nationals are really saying into the camera.
14) Rain on a tile patio - or a corrugated metal roof - is one of the most wonderful sounds in the world.
15) Your wardrobe can only handle two seasons: wet and dry.
16) Your high school memories include those days that school was canceled due to tear gas, riots, demonstrations, or bomb threats.
17) Your dorm room/apartment/living room looks a little like a museum with all the "exotic" things you have around.
18) Half of your phone calls are unintelligible to those around you.
19) You have best friends in 5 different countries.
20) It takes 24 hours to reach home in a plane
21) When a friend talks about their dreams of traveling to across the world to a secluded country and you can give them all the best restaurants and places to visit. You're like the traveler guidebook.
22) You hate subtitles because you know there is someone that can make an accurate translation.. you!
23) You have little or no contact with the locals but are best friends with people across the globe
24) When something unusual happens and it just doesn't seem to phase you as being something unordinary
25) When you speak many broken languages at once when you are drunk
1) You can't answer the question: "Where are you from?"
2) You speak two (or more) languages but can't spell in any of them.
3) You flew before you could walk.
4) You run into someone you know at every airport
5) You have a time zone map next to your telephone.
6) Your life story uses the phrase "Then we went to..." five times (or six, or seven times...).
7) You speak with authority on the quality of airline travel.
8) National Geographic (OR THE TRAVEL CHANNEL) makes you homesick.
9) You read the international section before the comics.
10) You don't know where home is.
11) You sort your friends by continent.
12) You feel that multiple passports would be appropriate.
13) You watch a movie set in a 'foreign country', and you know what the nationals are really saying into the camera.
14) Rain on a tile patio - or a corrugated metal roof - is one of the most wonderful sounds in the world.
15) Your wardrobe can only handle two seasons: wet and dry.
16) Your high school memories include those days that school was canceled due to tear gas, riots, demonstrations, or bomb threats.
17) Your dorm room/apartment/living room looks a little like a museum with all the "exotic" things you have around.
18) Half of your phone calls are unintelligible to those around you.
19) You have best friends in 5 different countries.
20) It takes 24 hours to reach home in a plane
21) When a friend talks about their dreams of traveling to across the world to a secluded country and you can give them all the best restaurants and places to visit. You're like the traveler guidebook.
22) You hate subtitles because you know there is someone that can make an accurate translation.. you!
23) You have little or no contact with the locals but are best friends with people across the globe
24) When something unusual happens and it just doesn't seem to phase you as being something unordinary
25) When you speak many broken languages at once when you are drunk
Wednesday, May 09, 2007
Excerpt
"'Tis frightening to me sometimes, that all our reasoning and works are so provisional, so damned fragile, and someday we pass away like the strain of breath on a mirror and sink back into that from whence we've come."
From Middle Passage, by Charles Johnson.
From Middle Passage, by Charles Johnson.
Wednesday, May 02, 2007
Going Further
So I think I've decided something quite unexpected. I'm going to run a half-marathon this year. Honestly, I don't even like long-distance running that much. I'm much more of a sprint, wind-in-your-face kind of runner. BUT. Things being as they are, I really enjoyed the 10K race, especially running so much faster than I thought I was able to. Now I want to take it a step further, and complete 13.1 miles. I know it will be tough, and challenging, but I also hope it will be doable. I imagine it will be. I haven't decided which one yet, but it will probably be within driving distance of Charleston... maybe Virginia or something. Woohoo!!
Sunday, April 22, 2007
Shane Bernier
Here's an article by an Ottawa Newspaper that caught my attention. I'm mailing him a card tomorrow and if you read this blog, please consider doing it as well. I did some online research, and it's not a hoax.
For most of us, birthday cards are a nice gesture. But for Shane Bernier, every card will mean the world -- as in world record.
Shane, a cancer patient at CHEO, will turn eight on May 30 and all he wants is a card from as many people as possible so he can set a Guinness world record.
There is no actual record for most birthday cards received in a single year, but another child who had cancer holds a greeting card record of sorts. Between his eighth and 22nd birthdays, he received 350 million get well cards.
Shane Bernier has received 10,000 cards so far. Another 1,000 come daily.
Guinness is considering whether Shane's idea could be considered a different category.
The quest started when Shane told his mother how he loved receiving cards in the hospital. He later told her he'd love to get lots and lots of birthday cards in May.
His grandfather and his mother let all their friends and acquaintances know and that's when the world record quest began. Now, between the Internet, radio and television coverage, his mother, Nathalie, figures they've collected 10,000 and the cards keep coming. Every day, they receive about 1,000 more.
"Everywhere he looks, there are cards," Ms. Bernier said yesterday when she and Shane returned to their Lancaster home from CHEO. "They're in the living room, dining room. There are boxes of them everywhere, all over the place."
They can't display them all, but Shane opens every envelope and reads the cards that are written in French. His mother and grandparents read the English ones to him. He displays his favourites, including Spider-Man cards and ones with pop-up features.
Ms. Bernier admits it takes a lot of time to get through them, "but it makes him happy, so we don't care."
Shane was diagnosed with acute lymphoblastic leukemia three years ago and had early remission, but then relapsed in July 2006, just 22 weeks short of his treatment protocol, which was supposed to have finished at Christmas.
Now he's receiving stronger chemotherapy until the end of June and then he'll be in a maintenance program with weaker chemo into 2008.
If the chemo doesn't work, he might have to have a bone marrow transplant at some point. His six-year-old brother, Jacob, is a match.
Shane's weekly treatment doesn't make him throw up, but it often gives him a fever, which means he ends up in hospital so that he's not exposed to infections that could make him sicker.
After this round of treatment, he has an 80-per cent chance of being OK for the rest of his life, Ms. Bernier said.
When he's well, Shane loves to play road hockey and baseball and listen to "the oldies" music from the 1950s and '60s. "He doesn't like the new stuff," said Ms. Bernier, who is a single parent.
For most of us, birthday cards are a nice gesture. But for Shane Bernier, every card will mean the world -- as in world record.
Shane, a cancer patient at CHEO, will turn eight on May 30 and all he wants is a card from as many people as possible so he can set a Guinness world record.
There is no actual record for most birthday cards received in a single year, but another child who had cancer holds a greeting card record of sorts. Between his eighth and 22nd birthdays, he received 350 million get well cards.
Shane Bernier has received 10,000 cards so far. Another 1,000 come daily.
Guinness is considering whether Shane's idea could be considered a different category.
The quest started when Shane told his mother how he loved receiving cards in the hospital. He later told her he'd love to get lots and lots of birthday cards in May.
His grandfather and his mother let all their friends and acquaintances know and that's when the world record quest began. Now, between the Internet, radio and television coverage, his mother, Nathalie, figures they've collected 10,000 and the cards keep coming. Every day, they receive about 1,000 more.
"Everywhere he looks, there are cards," Ms. Bernier said yesterday when she and Shane returned to their Lancaster home from CHEO. "They're in the living room, dining room. There are boxes of them everywhere, all over the place."
They can't display them all, but Shane opens every envelope and reads the cards that are written in French. His mother and grandparents read the English ones to him. He displays his favourites, including Spider-Man cards and ones with pop-up features.
Ms. Bernier admits it takes a lot of time to get through them, "but it makes him happy, so we don't care."
Shane was diagnosed with acute lymphoblastic leukemia three years ago and had early remission, but then relapsed in July 2006, just 22 weeks short of his treatment protocol, which was supposed to have finished at Christmas.
Now he's receiving stronger chemotherapy until the end of June and then he'll be in a maintenance program with weaker chemo into 2008.
If the chemo doesn't work, he might have to have a bone marrow transplant at some point. His six-year-old brother, Jacob, is a match.
Shane's weekly treatment doesn't make him throw up, but it often gives him a fever, which means he ends up in hospital so that he's not exposed to infections that could make him sicker.
After this round of treatment, he has an 80-per cent chance of being OK for the rest of his life, Ms. Bernier said.
When he's well, Shane loves to play road hockey and baseball and listen to "the oldies" music from the 1950s and '60s. "He doesn't like the new stuff," said Ms. Bernier, who is a single parent.
Thursday, April 05, 2007
Dreams, Money, and Opportunity
I have been thinking a lot about what to do when I'm not in school over the summer and when I graduate in December. Ideally, I would like to work for an international non-profit and gain some experience in the field which I could use later in studying international law. Ideally. But it's turning out to be very difficult to turn my idea into practice.
All the non-profits I have looked into have plenty of volunteer opportunities and internships available. The problem is -- they are all unpaid. I am trying to pay my way through my last semester in graduate school, and there is no way I can afford to live in Washington or New York, or to travel overseas without a source of income. How are people interested in working for non-profits going to get the requisite experience to get a paying job if they don't have the money saved?
I have a lot of friends who are doing exactly what they want to do with their lives. I am jealous of them, not because they accomplishing their goals, but because they are doing it without having to worry about who's paying for them to accomplish their dreams. These friends are out traveling the world, applying to the most expensive schools, volunteering and interning for free in many countries, and they don't have to worry about where their money is coming from or what will happen to them if they don't succeed. They know they have a financial safety net -- either through their families or inheritances. They can pursue their dreams because they are not constrained by their finances.
How can those people who are not as lucky get their lives on the path to success? Do you try to make enough money and push your dreams to the backburner with the idea of coming back to them when you are financially stable; or do you throw caution to the wind and pursue your dreams even though there will be noone to catch you if you fall? Why isn't there a simple, paid internship alternative that eliminates the problem altogether? The way it works now just reinforces the concept that money, in too many situations, defines opportunity.
All the non-profits I have looked into have plenty of volunteer opportunities and internships available. The problem is -- they are all unpaid. I am trying to pay my way through my last semester in graduate school, and there is no way I can afford to live in Washington or New York, or to travel overseas without a source of income. How are people interested in working for non-profits going to get the requisite experience to get a paying job if they don't have the money saved?
I have a lot of friends who are doing exactly what they want to do with their lives. I am jealous of them, not because they accomplishing their goals, but because they are doing it without having to worry about who's paying for them to accomplish their dreams. These friends are out traveling the world, applying to the most expensive schools, volunteering and interning for free in many countries, and they don't have to worry about where their money is coming from or what will happen to them if they don't succeed. They know they have a financial safety net -- either through their families or inheritances. They can pursue their dreams because they are not constrained by their finances.
How can those people who are not as lucky get their lives on the path to success? Do you try to make enough money and push your dreams to the backburner with the idea of coming back to them when you are financially stable; or do you throw caution to the wind and pursue your dreams even though there will be noone to catch you if you fall? Why isn't there a simple, paid internship alternative that eliminates the problem altogether? The way it works now just reinforces the concept that money, in too many situations, defines opportunity.
Tuesday, April 03, 2007
24
"But Time makes you bolder/ children get older/ I'm getting older, too"
These lyrics in Fleetwood Mac's epic song Landslide express perfectly how I feel today. I'm going to be 24 in a little over a week. I remember being little and thinking that 20 was ancient. "Children get older..." and now I'm almost ancient. 24. All I can say is, I understand why Ponce de Leon travelled half way across the globe to look for the fountain of youth. It's all wrinkles and fat deposits from here. Good god.
These lyrics in Fleetwood Mac's epic song Landslide express perfectly how I feel today. I'm going to be 24 in a little over a week. I remember being little and thinking that 20 was ancient. "Children get older..." and now I'm almost ancient. 24. All I can say is, I understand why Ponce de Leon travelled half way across the globe to look for the fountain of youth. It's all wrinkles and fat deposits from here. Good god.
Sunday, April 01, 2007
Cooper River Bridge Run
Yesterday was a day of triumph. I, along with over 40,000 people, competed in the annual Cooper River Bridge Run, a 10K, 6.2 mile race across Charleston. I had trained for the race, because it's pretty impossible to run for an hour without being physically fit, and I didn't want to make a fool of myself. I did a practice run a week ago, and managed to finish in 60:00 minutes, a little under 10 minutes per mile. I was pretty happy, and pretty tired. I knew it wasn't going to be easy. My goal, I told myself, would be to run it in 58:00. Cutting two minutes off of a 10 K is pretty tough, so I was convinced that I'd set myself a good goal.
Yesterday was race day. I got up at 5:30 AM and crammed in a car with 5 friends. We got to the race and took in the sights and sounds. Everywhere you looked, there were people... hundreds and thousands of people. Really fit people, really unfit people, nervous people, calm people, tired people, wide-awake people... just all sorts of folks. After all, one authority claims that the Cooper River Bridge Run is the 3rd largest in the United States and the 8th largest in the world. After waiting a good while, we got to the starting line. People were separated based on how fast they claimed they could compete the race. I joined the crowd that claimed 49:00 - 60:00 minutes. Of course, I told myself, I was going to be on the tail end of that crowd.
Yesterday the race gun went off, and off with it went 30,000-40,000 people. I was one, racing alongside my best friend and running mate Anna. Initially, one could only go as fast as the crowd would let one, which wasn't very fast. Soon, Anna and I started looking for holes, and we started sprinting into every opening we found. Right off the bat, I knew I was running faster than usual, but my body was not feeling the strain, and I couldn't gage how fast. The race was eerily quiet, for being comprised of so many people. All one could hear was the thump, thump, thump of feet hitting the ground. Once on the bridge, the sounds were even more condensed. Thump, thump, thump. I paid attention to the sounds, I paid attention to the openings, I paid attention to the people around me. The only thing I did not pay attention to was myself.
Yesterday I ran the fastest race of my life. After a few miles of running, I began to notice that everyone around me was extremely fit. I was surrounded by the "serious" runners -- the people in professional gear, displaying typical "runners" bodies -- lean, strong, and focused folks. I was surprised that I fit into the group, but once I got accustomed to the idea, I was overcome by an exhilarating feeling. I just wanted to go faster. And so I ran and I ran and I ran until I saw the finish line. Then I sprinted, and passed every person in front of me that I could see.
Yesterday I ran 10 K or 6.2 miles in 54:15 seconds. I ran at a pace of 9:17 seconds per mile. I ended up in 4,957th place out of 28,641 people who finished the timed race. Out of the women, I finished in 1281st place out of 15,587. Out of the women 21-24 years old, I finished 228th out of 1919. Overall, I'm pretty darn proud of myself.
Yesterday I beat my goal by a whole 4:00 minutes, and I ran 6:00 minutes faster than I had the week before. It's a powerful feeling. Next year, I'm going for less than 54:00 minutes.
Yesterday was race day. I got up at 5:30 AM and crammed in a car with 5 friends. We got to the race and took in the sights and sounds. Everywhere you looked, there were people... hundreds and thousands of people. Really fit people, really unfit people, nervous people, calm people, tired people, wide-awake people... just all sorts of folks. After all, one authority claims that the Cooper River Bridge Run is the 3rd largest in the United States and the 8th largest in the world. After waiting a good while, we got to the starting line. People were separated based on how fast they claimed they could compete the race. I joined the crowd that claimed 49:00 - 60:00 minutes. Of course, I told myself, I was going to be on the tail end of that crowd.
Yesterday the race gun went off, and off with it went 30,000-40,000 people. I was one, racing alongside my best friend and running mate Anna. Initially, one could only go as fast as the crowd would let one, which wasn't very fast. Soon, Anna and I started looking for holes, and we started sprinting into every opening we found. Right off the bat, I knew I was running faster than usual, but my body was not feeling the strain, and I couldn't gage how fast. The race was eerily quiet, for being comprised of so many people. All one could hear was the thump, thump, thump of feet hitting the ground. Once on the bridge, the sounds were even more condensed. Thump, thump, thump. I paid attention to the sounds, I paid attention to the openings, I paid attention to the people around me. The only thing I did not pay attention to was myself.
Yesterday I ran the fastest race of my life. After a few miles of running, I began to notice that everyone around me was extremely fit. I was surrounded by the "serious" runners -- the people in professional gear, displaying typical "runners" bodies -- lean, strong, and focused folks. I was surprised that I fit into the group, but once I got accustomed to the idea, I was overcome by an exhilarating feeling. I just wanted to go faster. And so I ran and I ran and I ran until I saw the finish line. Then I sprinted, and passed every person in front of me that I could see.
Yesterday I ran 10 K or 6.2 miles in 54:15 seconds. I ran at a pace of 9:17 seconds per mile. I ended up in 4,957th place out of 28,641 people who finished the timed race. Out of the women, I finished in 1281st place out of 15,587. Out of the women 21-24 years old, I finished 228th out of 1919. Overall, I'm pretty darn proud of myself.
Yesterday I beat my goal by a whole 4:00 minutes, and I ran 6:00 minutes faster than I had the week before. It's a powerful feeling. Next year, I'm going for less than 54:00 minutes.
Thursday, March 22, 2007
Julian Ashby Lancia
Did I not say he was the cutest thing in the world? And look at those eyes -- so smart!!
Tuesday, March 20, 2007
Truth
But it is true old Marx
that history is not enough
Important occasions,
man makes them.
It's a real live man who doea it, who masters it who will fight
History by itself does nothing, dear friends.
It does absolutely nothing.
Herberto Padilla (1971)
that history is not enough
Important occasions,
man makes them.
It's a real live man who doea it, who masters it who will fight
History by itself does nothing, dear friends.
It does absolutely nothing.
Herberto Padilla (1971)
Monday, March 19, 2007
St. Patrick's in Savannah
Last weekend, I headed to Savannah in Georgia with my friend Anna. Savannah boasts one of the biggest St. Patrick's day celebrations in the country, and this year, over 40,000 people flocked to the city to participate in the shenanigans.
We got there and already we were not like most people because we didn't have to worry about where to stay, since Anna's dad has a house in the city. Not so for most people. With hotel rates skyrocketing, many decided to spend the night in their cars or not to sleep at all.
My experience was also different when we walked down to River St. and saw a morass of absolutely plastered young people wearing green, drinking green, throwing up green, and swaying side to side. Knowing what it feels like to be that drunk (and especially the next day), I decided that I would not, in fact, be intoxicating myself nearly as much as the average person. Still (or maybe, because of this) I had a lot of fun. There was enough music, men and women in kilts, and people walking around that there was no way for it not to be entertaining. It was, any way one spins it, a spectacle. The best green shirt was worn by a very dark-skinned man. It read "Kiss me, I am Irish--ish."
Before that night, we had gone to watch the big St. Patrick's day parade downtown. It lasted three hours and had all sorts of different floats. People went all out, and really represented their views. It was fun, engaging, and quite the experience.
We got there and already we were not like most people because we didn't have to worry about where to stay, since Anna's dad has a house in the city. Not so for most people. With hotel rates skyrocketing, many decided to spend the night in their cars or not to sleep at all.
My experience was also different when we walked down to River St. and saw a morass of absolutely plastered young people wearing green, drinking green, throwing up green, and swaying side to side. Knowing what it feels like to be that drunk (and especially the next day), I decided that I would not, in fact, be intoxicating myself nearly as much as the average person. Still (or maybe, because of this) I had a lot of fun. There was enough music, men and women in kilts, and people walking around that there was no way for it not to be entertaining. It was, any way one spins it, a spectacle. The best green shirt was worn by a very dark-skinned man. It read "Kiss me, I am Irish--ish."
Before that night, we had gone to watch the big St. Patrick's day parade downtown. It lasted three hours and had all sorts of different floats. People went all out, and really represented their views. It was fun, engaging, and quite the experience.
Thursday, March 15, 2007
New Light, New Life
In Italian, when a baby is born, you say that he is brought to the light. Last Friday, my brother's wife Dawn had a baby boy, my very first nephew. His name is Julian Ashby Lancia. I haven't seen pictures of him, but I can assure you with dogged ignorance that he is the most beautiful baby in the world so far.
So I'm very proud to be the auntie of baby Julian, and the whole 9-month long episode has got me thinking about my responsibilities towards those who come after us. In a way, it's strange to be 23 and thinking about your mortality and posterity, because there's still such a long way to go, one hopes. But I still want to be the best damn aunt the world has ever known, and I want to leave the world better than when I was brought to the light. Very subjective, to be sure, but a cause that is greater than wanting to be rich and famous (according to a recent survey, the stated life's goal of most people my age). And who knows, when you break down boundaries of acceptable thinking, you are left with a whole new world of possibility.
So I'm very proud to be the auntie of baby Julian, and the whole 9-month long episode has got me thinking about my responsibilities towards those who come after us. In a way, it's strange to be 23 and thinking about your mortality and posterity, because there's still such a long way to go, one hopes. But I still want to be the best damn aunt the world has ever known, and I want to leave the world better than when I was brought to the light. Very subjective, to be sure, but a cause that is greater than wanting to be rich and famous (according to a recent survey, the stated life's goal of most people my age). And who knows, when you break down boundaries of acceptable thinking, you are left with a whole new world of possibility.
Friday, March 02, 2007
Good to Go
I have a sweatshirt from Adelphi that says "Good to Go." I got it senior year. Today, I had another LSAT prep session with the Director of the Center for Student Learning. I went to him because I had no earthly idea how to approach the logic games section on the test. He put me to the test the first day, gave me a piece of chalk and told me to read the problem and diagram it on a chalkboard. I failed miserably. It all looked like gibberish and I had no idea what I was supposed to do. Today, he gave me a problem and within 5 minutes, I had solved all the questions correctly. As I left, he told me I was "Good to Go" and that I had made very good progress. Made me pretty proud.
On the other hand, I'm reading a book that one of my professors loaned me. It's called One-L and it's about a Harvard Law student's first year. It's absolutely terrifying and as I read it I can't tear myself away from it. But it's freaking me out and I don't know if this is what I want to put myself through. It just seems like a life of stress forever and ever amen. I suppose after you do anything for awhile it becomes simpler. You figure out the codes, you connect all the dots. It just seems ridiculously challenging now.
On the other hand, I'm reading a book that one of my professors loaned me. It's called One-L and it's about a Harvard Law student's first year. It's absolutely terrifying and as I read it I can't tear myself away from it. But it's freaking me out and I don't know if this is what I want to put myself through. It just seems like a life of stress forever and ever amen. I suppose after you do anything for awhile it becomes simpler. You figure out the codes, you connect all the dots. It just seems ridiculously challenging now.
Monday, February 26, 2007
Moments of Glory
This past week, I had some moments of glory:
1) I got to hang out with the band Sugarcult, who were the headliners at our Homecoming concert. I spent both Friday and Saturday nights hanging out and drinking with band members. It was cool and weird to see them on and off stage, such different personalities. Definitely a weekend to remember.
2) I ran a total of 20 miles, or 32 kilometers. That's the most I've ever run in one week, for sure. I feel stronger, healthier and better than I have in a long, long time.
3) I practiced for the LSAT and am getting semi-confident that I can score in the 90th percentile on the exam if I don't mess up. Now that I said that, I will almost certainly mess up.
Let's hope this week will be just as good!
1) I got to hang out with the band Sugarcult, who were the headliners at our Homecoming concert. I spent both Friday and Saturday nights hanging out and drinking with band members. It was cool and weird to see them on and off stage, such different personalities. Definitely a weekend to remember.
2) I ran a total of 20 miles, or 32 kilometers. That's the most I've ever run in one week, for sure. I feel stronger, healthier and better than I have in a long, long time.
3) I practiced for the LSAT and am getting semi-confident that I can score in the 90th percentile on the exam if I don't mess up. Now that I said that, I will almost certainly mess up.
Let's hope this week will be just as good!
Monday, February 19, 2007
Monday Morning
Monday morning and it's time to update. A lot has been going on. Decided to apply to law school. Taking practice LSATs and not doing too badly, which is a relief. Actually, the bigger relief is to have a practical, exciting, post-graduation plan. Somehow, it feels like the right thing to do. It makes sense. If I can keep my sanity and retain my faith in humanity for three years, I think I can make a good lawyer and actually help the world in some little ways. Going into law feels more active than being a history professor. I love history, but it is a passive career in many ways. To excite people by recounting past events in the hope that they will themselves step up to the world's challenges, is indeed a noble venture in my mind. But I know myself, and I know that I want to be the one in the thick of things. I love history because it teaches you time and time again that it is possible to accomplish what one thought was impossible for a human being. But now that I've learned those lessons, I need to put myself out there -- become a part of that world. I'm not saying that I want to be famous and have people read about me in history books -- I'm just saying that I want to be a part of the history, instead of recounting it.
Tuesday, January 02, 2007
Trying to Leave Africa
Here I am at the airport in Addis Ababa. Again. For the third time since I initially tried to get on a flight yesterday morning to Dubai. It was cancelled, and so they put us on a flight for later that night. When we came back the second time, the airport personell told us to go to the wrong gate, and by the time we figured it out, the flight had left. So here we are. Try #3 and I am really itching to go. I pray I will get there safely, even if 24 hours late. I only ever pray on airplanes. There's something about being so helplessly at the mercy of other powers that grips me when I'm sitting at 10,000 meters above ground. That, and a plane crashed this morning in Indonesia leaving only 12 survivors. Inshallah, God willing, we will arrive to Doha safely this evening. Man, it was a bad first day of the year.
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