I am so looking forward to the Oregon State visit in a week. On the second day of the visit, turns out we will be doing a field trip to the coast!!! The Pacific coast!!! Wow.
I got so excited about OSU, despite having to give a practice talk this Friday and a real one there next Monday, that I started looking up everything about all of Oregon. After feasting my eyes on descriptions and photos of its rocky coastlines, alpine hikes, mountain biking, public transportation(!), and whatnot, I thought to myself, "Wow, I don't know if I've ever looked forward to anything this much." But then, I realized that just a couple of months ago I was just as excitedly making plans for my summer in Colorado. In the middle of new excitement for a prospective graduate school, I had completely forgotten about the excitement for something more immediate and certain in my future. That made me feel both incredulous about what a good place in life I am in and a bit afraid that I would start taking any of these immense blessings for granted. If enough of these exciting things happen in my life, will I stop finding them exciting? How sad will that be? Is this why elderly people are more chill about everything?
I don't ever want to forget about my first excitements. In my childhood, it was my first plane ride. I remember not being able to stop grinning ear to ear on the long ride to the airport. I was thinking about my dad telling me about his business trips abroad, and how you could see the clouds next to you and below you on an airplane. Some people are deathly afraid of plane rides, and some just don't like them. But I somehow guessed right that I would love them. Twelve years and many more flights later, I still find flying exhilarating. I brace myself for every takeoff, watch the other landing strips whoosh by, and joyfully scream inside as I feel the wheels leave the ground. And as long as I can see something outside, I cannot sleep on a plane because I will be taking photos of clouds, mountaintops, and rivers constantly.
I hope that is the fate for all my other excitements. I hope that is not too much for me to ask.
Showing posts with label memories. Show all posts
Showing posts with label memories. Show all posts
Sunday, February 17, 2013
Saturday, January 19, 2013
The Perks of Being a Wallflower
After hearing about the book for years, I saw The Perks of Being a Wallflower today.
First, it made me think so fondly back to high school -- something I haven't felt in a while. The teenage spirit, fresh youth, outlandish adventures...
Second, it hit home. Friends said the end was sad, that the movie was good but dark. I thought it was the best resolution ever. I wish... I could be Charlie.
Well, here's to swinging off a rope off a tree into a green pool. To walking miles on end into the night. To night drives through Atlanta with The Killers blasting. To sweaty school dances. To violating park hours for night strolls and stargazing.
Ah, and soon I will miss college, too... The college version of moments of "feeling infinite."
Less missing and more savoring!
Happy birthday, Na Hyung. Aging is a privilege.
First, it made me think so fondly back to high school -- something I haven't felt in a while. The teenage spirit, fresh youth, outlandish adventures...
Second, it hit home. Friends said the end was sad, that the movie was good but dark. I thought it was the best resolution ever. I wish... I could be Charlie.
Well, here's to swinging off a rope off a tree into a green pool. To walking miles on end into the night. To night drives through Atlanta with The Killers blasting. To sweaty school dances. To violating park hours for night strolls and stargazing.
Ah, and soon I will miss college, too... The college version of moments of "feeling infinite."
Less missing and more savoring!
Happy birthday, Na Hyung. Aging is a privilege.
Wednesday, January 9, 2013
Musings in Myers
This morning, I refused to take the bus to school. Instead, I slept that extra hour and drove to the Tate deck. As a consequence I just rode the bus back to campus, so I can drive back home after 11:00 PM without paying for parking.
On the bus, thinking of where in the SLC I would situate myself and read new class syllabi, I saw Myers Hall outside and felt compelled to get off. I felt like I owed this building a visit as a last-semester senior.
Well, it smells exactly the same as it did three years ago. This smell of... woody cleanliness. Everything looks so unchanged that I feel like I could walk up the ramp, scan my hand, and the door would still swing open for me. Although I can only reminisce in the first floor common areas, this is enough for reflection.
In this building, Students of AMF started. Our card-making, support group meetings, officer meetings. We met here for my very first InterVarsity small groups with the fifth-year senior Elizabeth (who I thought was so old). For almost a year, I called this place home. I would run into this building on a rainy day, shake off my umbrella, and end a long day of classes. I would walk into the lobby from my end of the hall and meet up with my lover, coming from his end, so that we could set out for a run around campus or a concert at the Performing Arts Center.
Contrary to what many seniors told me when I was a freshman, I do not want to be a freshman again -- I don't want to have to re-learn about myself, I don't want to take freshman classes again, and I definitely don't want to be broke for an extra four years. But I do dearly miss the memories from Myers. In fact, I'm going to dearly miss college. This is something I doubted for a while that I would ever say. In freshman year, I felt like everybody else was having a funner college experience, making more friends, and finding their places better than I was. But I found my own fun, friends, and "place" at just the right times and have had an amazing experience as an undergrad. Oh my gosh, how wonderful college has been. Of course, all good things must come to an end. And the end is near. I can't yet think of a brilliantly different way to spend this last semester. I guess take time to savor each moment, not get too caught up in the little things to see the bigger picture, and take it easy and put high priority on loving my friends (= other students, professors, bosses...) here.
We should not dwell on the past, they say. But I find happiness and inspiration for the future through occasional nostalgia. Hello, Spring 2013.
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Excited for this semester's classes, too. It's fun to walk into a class and learn about concepts you never knew existed, but it's even more exciting and satisfying to glance through a syllabus and think, "Oh my gosh I've been dying to learn about all of these!" One of the perks of being far along in your major, I guess...
On the bus, thinking of where in the SLC I would situate myself and read new class syllabi, I saw Myers Hall outside and felt compelled to get off. I felt like I owed this building a visit as a last-semester senior.
Well, it smells exactly the same as it did three years ago. This smell of... woody cleanliness. Everything looks so unchanged that I feel like I could walk up the ramp, scan my hand, and the door would still swing open for me. Although I can only reminisce in the first floor common areas, this is enough for reflection.
In this building, Students of AMF started. Our card-making, support group meetings, officer meetings. We met here for my very first InterVarsity small groups with the fifth-year senior Elizabeth (who I thought was so old). For almost a year, I called this place home. I would run into this building on a rainy day, shake off my umbrella, and end a long day of classes. I would walk into the lobby from my end of the hall and meet up with my lover, coming from his end, so that we could set out for a run around campus or a concert at the Performing Arts Center.
Contrary to what many seniors told me when I was a freshman, I do not want to be a freshman again -- I don't want to have to re-learn about myself, I don't want to take freshman classes again, and I definitely don't want to be broke for an extra four years. But I do dearly miss the memories from Myers. In fact, I'm going to dearly miss college. This is something I doubted for a while that I would ever say. In freshman year, I felt like everybody else was having a funner college experience, making more friends, and finding their places better than I was. But I found my own fun, friends, and "place" at just the right times and have had an amazing experience as an undergrad. Oh my gosh, how wonderful college has been. Of course, all good things must come to an end. And the end is near. I can't yet think of a brilliantly different way to spend this last semester. I guess take time to savor each moment, not get too caught up in the little things to see the bigger picture, and take it easy and put high priority on loving my friends (= other students, professors, bosses...) here.
We should not dwell on the past, they say. But I find happiness and inspiration for the future through occasional nostalgia. Hello, Spring 2013.
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Excited for this semester's classes, too. It's fun to walk into a class and learn about concepts you never knew existed, but it's even more exciting and satisfying to glance through a syllabus and think, "Oh my gosh I've been dying to learn about all of these!" One of the perks of being far along in your major, I guess...
Tuesday, January 1, 2013
Might I Quote Thee?
It's cool how philosophers think, but most of the time, it's the doers who do the work. And of course you thought a lot after your mom's loss. And you probably still do. Once college comes (or right now, just in the summer), it'll be a good time for doing, doing the doing or doing more of the doing you did or didn't get to do in high school. Even social stuff is a kind of must-do scheduled-kind-of doing for me, just like homework is. But I never am tired because I immerse myself in what I do. I find passion through them so it doesn't feel like I'm actually doing something laborous. Doing work/learning and chatting with people are both fun.Friend who will, by choice, never see this, thank you for your non-expiring pep talks and lasting inspiration. And for re-shaping my life for good before disappearing into a fog that I can't penetrate.
Well, here's to immersing ourselves in what we do. Here's to finding passion through what we do instead of feeling like we're doing something laborious.
Saturday, December 29, 2012
What a Year
My 2012, if not the end of the world, was an epic year. I changed in so many ways that it might be easier to enumerate the ways I stayed the same. But since tonight I am celebrating the submission of my first grad school app, I'm giving myself time to do both.
2009 was another year that I thought was epic. Mom's illness and passing, high school graduation, new outlook on discipline and my purpose in the world, leaving home for college. It's only been three years since then; so maybe epic years aren't as rare as I think. In fact, with college graduation just over the horizon, 2013 very well may be more epic than 2012. Nevertheless, here I go.
I am just like my 2009-2011 self in many ways. I try to put people relationships above all else. I consider myself an optimist. I love to write about my thoughts. I love to cook. I find lame jokes hilarious. I love school, especially when I am on break like now. I think much about science and religion. I believe there is a God. Music is a large part of my life. I have high expectations and lofty goals.
But I'm better at using and understanding sarcasm. I like bluegrass, when the sound of mandolins and banjos used to nauseate me. I am madly in love with the American West. I think cities are overrated, although I've been a city girl all my life. I like a juicy hunk of steak. I savor going to the bathroom in the woods as a bonding experience between me and nature. I no longer attend church, although that's not to say I will never go again. I dance again. I have new standards for stargazing and hiking. I am more liberal when it comes to dating. I'm a much better geologist, albeit still a novice. I care less about looks but more about fitness.
All because of getting over a past relationship, turning twenty-one, the rise and fall of another relationship, interacting with many people in different ways, spending seven weeks out West, and joining the geology social circle. And, the most first-time experiences in one year by far (out of the years I can remember, anyway) -- I could literally name dozens.
This time last year, musing about how fast 2011 was and how 2012 will be just another blink of an eye, all I hoped for was that it would be a good blink of an eye. Filled with adventure in every sense, successes to meet the challenges, getting to know personalities new to me, new sights and tastes, natural wonder, loving family and friends, and a new perspective on the world, it was a magical blink.
And my heart still says... Thank God.
2009 was another year that I thought was epic. Mom's illness and passing, high school graduation, new outlook on discipline and my purpose in the world, leaving home for college. It's only been three years since then; so maybe epic years aren't as rare as I think. In fact, with college graduation just over the horizon, 2013 very well may be more epic than 2012. Nevertheless, here I go.
I am just like my 2009-2011 self in many ways. I try to put people relationships above all else. I consider myself an optimist. I love to write about my thoughts. I love to cook. I find lame jokes hilarious. I love school, especially when I am on break like now. I think much about science and religion. I believe there is a God. Music is a large part of my life. I have high expectations and lofty goals.
But I'm better at using and understanding sarcasm. I like bluegrass, when the sound of mandolins and banjos used to nauseate me. I am madly in love with the American West. I think cities are overrated, although I've been a city girl all my life. I like a juicy hunk of steak. I savor going to the bathroom in the woods as a bonding experience between me and nature. I no longer attend church, although that's not to say I will never go again. I dance again. I have new standards for stargazing and hiking. I am more liberal when it comes to dating. I'm a much better geologist, albeit still a novice. I care less about looks but more about fitness.
All because of getting over a past relationship, turning twenty-one, the rise and fall of another relationship, interacting with many people in different ways, spending seven weeks out West, and joining the geology social circle. And, the most first-time experiences in one year by far (out of the years I can remember, anyway) -- I could literally name dozens.
This time last year, musing about how fast 2011 was and how 2012 will be just another blink of an eye, all I hoped for was that it would be a good blink of an eye. Filled with adventure in every sense, successes to meet the challenges, getting to know personalities new to me, new sights and tastes, natural wonder, loving family and friends, and a new perspective on the world, it was a magical blink.
And my heart still says... Thank God.
Saturday, December 15, 2012
2012
- What did you do in 2012 that you'd never done before?
-> Where do I start?! I could fill a whole page, but... Drink at bars, map geologic units, climb a fourteener, see the Milky Way, drive three days to get somewhere, run 4 miles nonstop, play in a jazz ensemble, work 12-hour lab shifts - Did you keep your new years' resolutions, and will you make more for next year?
-> I don't think I made them. Next year, I plan to do a 365 days of happy surprises calendar again. - Did anyone close to you give birth?
-> No - Did anyone close to you die?
-> No - What countries did you visit?
-> None - What would you like to have in 2013 that you lacked in 2012?
-> College degree, a residence with 1 roommate max - What date from 2012 will remain etched upon your memory, and why?
-> May 17, the day left Athens for field school. - What was your biggest achievement of the year?
-> Winning an excessive number of scholarships, surviving field school - What was your biggest failure?
-> Attempts to pay attention during hydrogeology lecture - Did you suffer illness or injury?
-> I damaged my feet and could not run for a month and a half after field school. Also, I still have half a sheath of cactus needle embedded in my ankle. Massive scars on my wrist and calf from a fall. - What was the best thing you bought?
-> My sleeping bag! Also $5 North Face field shorts at a Goodwill. And lunch at La Indita, a Mexican restaurant in Tucson, Arizona. - Where did most of your money go?
-> Apartment rent, field school, graduate school applications - What did you get really, really, really excited about?
-> Arizona trip for research, going to Arches National Park at field school, and I'm already really, really, really excited about living in Denver next summer for an internship. - What songs will always remind you of 2012?
-> "Fuck You" by Cee Lo Green, Nickel Creek songs, "Call Me Maybe" - Compared to this time last year, are you:
i. happier or sadder? happier
ii. thinner or fatter? about the same
iii. richer or poorer? richer - What do you wish you'd done more of?
-> practicing violin, spending time with brother - What do you wish you'd done less of?
-> Complaining? Feeling smug? Looking for distractions? - How will you be spending Christmas?
-> Not sure. Hopefully everybody in the family eating together. - Did you fall in love in 2012?
-> Once with a person, then another time with the West - What was your favorite TV program?
-> Everest: Beyond the Limit - What was the best book you read?
-> I started reading Jurassic Park and was impressed. Right now I'm reading Finding God at Harvard and I like it so far. - What was your greatest musical discovery?
-> Learning to improvise jazz - What did you want and get?
-> Money, internship, travel, adventure - What was your favorite film of this year?
-> Uhh... I only saw a few... Sherlock Holmes was entertaining... - What did you do on your birthday, and how old were you?
-> Went to Cutters Pub with geology folks after a Geology Club meeting, where people bought me a Yuengling and a whiskey sour while we played pool and darts. Then Kyle picked me up and gave me some very sweet gifts. I turned 21. - What one thing would have made your year immeasurably more satisfying?
-> Nothing. - How would you describe your personal fashion concept in 2012?
-> Fieldsy. - What kept you sane?
-> Good old girlfriends! The Rocky Mountains! - Which celebrity/public figure did you fancy the most?
-> Uhh - What political issue stirred you the most?
-> The humor in how badly Romney was failing during election season - Who did you miss?
-> Friends back home during field school, Logan, Phoeny - Who was the best new person you met?
-> Hm... this year I feel like I really got to know a lot of people I had superficially known for a while, and a lot of those people are great. - Tell us a valuable life lesson you learned in 2012:
-> Life is too short to spend indoors. / Squat downslope when peeing, and aim away from rocks. / All the splendor of nature cannot replace the love from friends and family. - Quote a song lyric that sums up your year:
-> "Climb every mountain, ford every stream, follow every rainbow, 'till you find your dream"
Wednesday, November 28, 2012
It's Not You, It's Me / Denver?!
"And he said, 'It's not you, it's me...'" I remember the very first time I heard that phrase. In some TV show or movie. Probably in middle school. I had to think a bit about what it meant and came to a conclusion along the lines of, "Oh I get it. What a catchy way to say something."
Little did I know that I would use that phrase many times without ever saying the exact words, and that others would say that to me as well. Little did I know just what a downer it is when you have to be in one of those situations.
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On a completely unrelated note, today I got a summer internship offer to work in Colorado. Unfortunately it will be an office job, but geology-related, of course. Just the thought of having my own place and living in Denver for a whole summer makes me willing to do almost anything! (Colorado is my favorite state I've ever been to.) In a way this is kind of an unbelievable dream-come-true. The only thing is, for whatever reason, I had strong reservations about applying for the position for much of the process. But now, after talking to my would-be boss, the position actually sounds cool and worthwhile. I want to make sure before accepting that I am not primarily driven by the pay. Have an honest heart-to-heart with myself. I don't think I am. But such a dramatic change in my attitude makes me want to double-check.
Getting offered a real internship with a real (huge) company for the first time does make me feel great. But I have to remember to be thankful and not take credit for myself. I've been given an incredible amount of support from my family and school, and I wouldn't be able to do anything without them. (And I would like to thank my manager, and my husband who is watching at home...) Also, God is trying to do something cool with my life, and I am faithful in that. More importantly, I need to focus on grad school applications. I think I have successfully cleared away all obstacles -- petty drama, overwhelming schoolwork, summer applications (!), excessive social activities -- now I've got no excuse!
Little did I know that I would use that phrase many times without ever saying the exact words, and that others would say that to me as well. Little did I know just what a downer it is when you have to be in one of those situations.
----------------
On a completely unrelated note, today I got a summer internship offer to work in Colorado. Unfortunately it will be an office job, but geology-related, of course. Just the thought of having my own place and living in Denver for a whole summer makes me willing to do almost anything! (Colorado is my favorite state I've ever been to.) In a way this is kind of an unbelievable dream-come-true. The only thing is, for whatever reason, I had strong reservations about applying for the position for much of the process. But now, after talking to my would-be boss, the position actually sounds cool and worthwhile. I want to make sure before accepting that I am not primarily driven by the pay. Have an honest heart-to-heart with myself. I don't think I am. But such a dramatic change in my attitude makes me want to double-check.
Getting offered a real internship with a real (huge) company for the first time does make me feel great. But I have to remember to be thankful and not take credit for myself. I've been given an incredible amount of support from my family and school, and I wouldn't be able to do anything without them. (And I would like to thank my manager, and my husband who is watching at home...) Also, God is trying to do something cool with my life, and I am faithful in that. More importantly, I need to focus on grad school applications. I think I have successfully cleared away all obstacles -- petty drama, overwhelming schoolwork, summer applications (!), excessive social activities -- now I've got no excuse!
Friday, October 5, 2012
Seasons of Life
Life is made of seasons. Seasons never last, but they keep coming and going. No need to think of a previous relationship as a failure because it ended. Even successful marriages end with the death of one or both of the parties. Afterwards, in retrospect, everything will have been something transient that colored a section of our life scroll. With age we just collect more seasons in our memory and on our scroll. Best to savor the current season and, if we must think of the past, think of it as a book of fond memories that each colored its own season.
Lots of fond memories.
Everything comes and goes but one thing.
Lots of fond memories.
Everything comes and goes but one thing.
Tuesday, October 2, 2012
Enough Productivity for the Day
What a day. Got four hours of sleep, took a big midterm, came home around 4:00, then in a strange sleep-deprived burst of focus and motivation, I finished and submitted an internship application I have been "working on" for three months. On top of that, after a satisfying evening nap, I began to continue my graduate-program searching journey. But of course that would be too good -- I soon stumbled into the magnetic field of Facebook and found myself going through field school pictures, reminiscing those mountain hikes. And thinking about how EXCITING (!!!!!!!!!!!) it is that I will be leaving for Arizona on Sunday!!! To be honest, I don't know what the heck is in Tucson. Cactus, I imagine -- my excitement just momentarily shriveled -- and sand, and dust? Plus, I will be indoors almost all of the time. But the thought of just going back out West does it for me. If it's out there, it's gotta be cool. Thinking about merely breathing in some dry air is literally making my palms sweat with excitement.
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Last night, as I was looking over the definition of "precipitation" in my Surficial Processes notes, I was reminded of a little picture book I really loved as a kid. My hazy memory says it was titled 무지개는 왜 생길까요? or Why Do Rainbows Form? And it had a tiger explaining various elements of precipitation, including snowflakes, raindrops, and rainbows. It was from that book I learned that when water vapor condenses and gets heavy, it falls to the ground as rain. And here I was in college, learning the same concept. But building on that to learn so much more about precipitation... how to measure it, how it travels through the ground, how it affects weathering of the Earth, how that is related to tectonics. Now, I have grown up and come so far in education as to help produce new knowledge about nature as a scientist. When I reached that thought, the sudden recall of the memory of that book became so precious. I wanted to find it on Amazon (from the illustrations, I could tell even as a child that it was a foreign book) or Google Images and post a picture of it on here. But I couldn't find it. I wanted to ask someone who may know the exact title. I wanted to talk to someone and confirm that this book wasn't a figment of my imagination. I wanted to call and thank the person who got me that book. I wanted to call the person who got me all these great science picture books and encyclopedias and encouraged me to learn as much as I can, because I grew up in a family that could afford it, unlike hers. I wanted to let her in on all the exciting research I am learning about and talk to her about how hard it is to believe that I am already finishing up college. I want to reminisce with her about the day that she dressed me and patted my head, saying, "You're now already a third grader."
This is where it becomes extremely difficult to not believe in an afterlife. How to deal with this? (I need to go to an AMF meeting.)
This... this is what happens whenever I decide I am not obligated to work for the rest of the night that I am home and awake alone. There. Possibly one of my most stream-of-consciousness ramble of a post to date.
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Last night, as I was looking over the definition of "precipitation" in my Surficial Processes notes, I was reminded of a little picture book I really loved as a kid. My hazy memory says it was titled 무지개는 왜 생길까요? or Why Do Rainbows Form? And it had a tiger explaining various elements of precipitation, including snowflakes, raindrops, and rainbows. It was from that book I learned that when water vapor condenses and gets heavy, it falls to the ground as rain. And here I was in college, learning the same concept. But building on that to learn so much more about precipitation... how to measure it, how it travels through the ground, how it affects weathering of the Earth, how that is related to tectonics. Now, I have grown up and come so far in education as to help produce new knowledge about nature as a scientist. When I reached that thought, the sudden recall of the memory of that book became so precious. I wanted to find it on Amazon (from the illustrations, I could tell even as a child that it was a foreign book) or Google Images and post a picture of it on here. But I couldn't find it. I wanted to ask someone who may know the exact title. I wanted to talk to someone and confirm that this book wasn't a figment of my imagination. I wanted to call and thank the person who got me that book. I wanted to call the person who got me all these great science picture books and encyclopedias and encouraged me to learn as much as I can, because I grew up in a family that could afford it, unlike hers. I wanted to let her in on all the exciting research I am learning about and talk to her about how hard it is to believe that I am already finishing up college. I want to reminisce with her about the day that she dressed me and patted my head, saying, "You're now already a third grader."
This is where it becomes extremely difficult to not believe in an afterlife. How to deal with this? (I need to go to an AMF meeting.)
This... this is what happens whenever I decide I am not obligated to work for the rest of the night that I am home and awake alone. There. Possibly one of my most stream-of-consciousness ramble of a post to date.
Tuesday, August 21, 2012
Shenanigans
Got a brand new (and probably the most entertaining) batch of field school pictures from Chris. Click to view in their full glory.
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| Yet another Mt. Shavano picture, with Chris, who took all pictures on this post. |
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| At ~11,000 ft, the highest low country boil ever?! (It's about 450 ft high in Georgia.) |
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| Our classroom one morning, Valles Caldera National Preserve, NM |
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| The class |
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| Volcanic ash and tuff |
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| The hills are alive -- Summitville, CO |
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| Mr. Poopy, our ammo-can toilet. It had a lovely view of the surrounding aspens. |
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| Partner Ethan and I, failing to find gold. |
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| Stream frozen/snowed over on Mt. Lincoln, CO |
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| "I make it rain" -- virga (precipitation that doesn't reach the ground) seen from Mt. Licoln |
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| After last day of field work, "Whoo it's 103 degrees and our professor surprised us with beer!" |
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| Way back to the abbey |
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| Giddy |
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| Slept like that for a while. Check out my dirt tan. |
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| We actually worked every night |
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| The day after the last day of work. Going from left to right in the common room -- see John sleep. |
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| What a nasty couch I was on. |
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| Brandon and Nick. |
Monday, August 13, 2012
Summer in Review
What a summer it was... As I sit here looking at my desktop wallpaper of the Great Sand Dunes while listening to my Field School playlist (consisting of a Nickel Creek album and some radio songs we heard at least 50 times each on vans), I can't help but think that this summer deserves a proper farewell.
This summer was a whirlwind. A few days after finishing up finals, I pulled an all-nighter at school submitting an Honors optional project two days before field school. Then away we went, on a seemingly endless 3-day journey to the West, only to realize that it was only the beginning of the beginning.
Then six weeks of sun, sweat, mountains, rocks, dust, cactus, and all kinds of beautiful things and experiences that make my eyes glaze over and my chest swell to think of... Sunrises, sunsets, glaciers, summits, elk herds, butterflies, shooting stars, horizons...
Then unbelievably, I was back in Georgia -- with body, mind, and soul changed, with habits, perspective, tastes, hopes, dreams newly acquired. With inevitably permanent scars on my limbs, with an armful of photographs and videos that I now cannot believe I took. The weekend before field school, I was home showing my family the Google Image-d photographs of places I would visit. I thought to myself, "These probably look more impressive than what I'm really going to see, but I'll give them the impressive versions, why not." But of course, it was so much more impressive in person. I remember trying over and over to capture a place with my camera and being disappointed that it wasn't turning out as good as the real thing. Now, all I can do is look back at these photographs and marvel at the fact that they were what I was seeing, except what I was seeing was even better.
And to think that the beauty that I saw was only a part of the experience...
Trying to get up at 4 in the morning for the first fourteener climb, I asked myself, "Why the heck am I doing this?" On the way down from the mountain, I could not stop talking to Chris, one of our instructors and mountain guru, about how it was the coolest/best experience of my life and and how inexplicable its goodness was. How do you explain to someone who has never ridden a roller coaster why dropping and flipping in a metal box is fun? Likewise, you can't explain to someone why climbing up four thousand feet with the thin air robbing you of oxygen and the freezing wind howling and whistling in your ear is so darn fulfilling. Even if you can sort of get that across, you still won't be able to convey just how fulfilling. It's just something you have to try to know...
Anyway, back in Georgia, I spent the first few weeks adjusting back to the humidly mundane and the latter few weeks moving out and into my new place. Even after a month and a half, all I can think of is the West, how I can get myself back there as soon as possible, and how I can take my family and friends there.
Which is too bad because tomorrow, classes start, and the last year of college (da-dun) will dawn upon me. With GRE, research, applications, and work, it may be the busiest semester of my life (but Heaven forbid it be as miserable as that semester I took Math Methods in Physics). Hopefully, that everything I will be doing is what I am interested in (except for the GRE) will help.
Father, I pray that I will stay with and listen for you...
This summer was a whirlwind. A few days after finishing up finals, I pulled an all-nighter at school submitting an Honors optional project two days before field school. Then away we went, on a seemingly endless 3-day journey to the West, only to realize that it was only the beginning of the beginning.
Then six weeks of sun, sweat, mountains, rocks, dust, cactus, and all kinds of beautiful things and experiences that make my eyes glaze over and my chest swell to think of... Sunrises, sunsets, glaciers, summits, elk herds, butterflies, shooting stars, horizons...
Then unbelievably, I was back in Georgia -- with body, mind, and soul changed, with habits, perspective, tastes, hopes, dreams newly acquired. With inevitably permanent scars on my limbs, with an armful of photographs and videos that I now cannot believe I took. The weekend before field school, I was home showing my family the Google Image-d photographs of places I would visit. I thought to myself, "These probably look more impressive than what I'm really going to see, but I'll give them the impressive versions, why not." But of course, it was so much more impressive in person. I remember trying over and over to capture a place with my camera and being disappointed that it wasn't turning out as good as the real thing. Now, all I can do is look back at these photographs and marvel at the fact that they were what I was seeing, except what I was seeing was even better.
And to think that the beauty that I saw was only a part of the experience...
Trying to get up at 4 in the morning for the first fourteener climb, I asked myself, "Why the heck am I doing this?" On the way down from the mountain, I could not stop talking to Chris, one of our instructors and mountain guru, about how it was the coolest/best experience of my life and and how inexplicable its goodness was. How do you explain to someone who has never ridden a roller coaster why dropping and flipping in a metal box is fun? Likewise, you can't explain to someone why climbing up four thousand feet with the thin air robbing you of oxygen and the freezing wind howling and whistling in your ear is so darn fulfilling. Even if you can sort of get that across, you still won't be able to convey just how fulfilling. It's just something you have to try to know...
Anyway, back in Georgia, I spent the first few weeks adjusting back to the humidly mundane and the latter few weeks moving out and into my new place. Even after a month and a half, all I can think of is the West, how I can get myself back there as soon as possible, and how I can take my family and friends there.
Which is too bad because tomorrow, classes start, and the last year of college (da-dun) will dawn upon me. With GRE, research, applications, and work, it may be the busiest semester of my life (but Heaven forbid it be as miserable as that semester I took Math Methods in Physics). Hopefully, that everything I will be doing is what I am interested in (except for the GRE) will help.
Father, I pray that I will stay with and listen for you...
Wednesday, July 18, 2012
Getting Situated
How foolish I was to think that a catching up of sleep over a weekend would be all I need to wind down from field school and be ready to jump into productivity.
It's been two and a half weeks, and I feel like every few days I discover something new I need to take care of, whether it be some stupid "housekeeping" thing or having to ease myself back into the mundane or to nurse my emotional state. Today's discovery was that life back home did not stop for a month and a half while I was gone. My life back home was paused, but everyone else's wasn't. I noticed my un-awareness the first night I was back in Georgia -- I met a couple of new people and asked, "So, what are you guys doing this summer?" then realized what I should have asked was, "What have you guys been doing this summer?" But even then I didn't know the full significance of that ignorance.
Being back home after field school is surprisingly difficult. Six weeks was long enough for me to have to seriously adjust myself back into the familiar environment, but short enough for me to feel like the whole world outside of field school was on pause, yet long enough for things to change back home.
So here I've been today, nursing my wounds, trying to stop procrastinating, and reading poetry to cheer myself up all at the same time. A good find from this afternoon that, of course, reminds me of field school:
Falling Stars
by Rainer Maria Rilke
Do you remember still the falling stars
that like swift horses through the heavens raced
and suddenly leaped across the hurdles
of our wishes -- do you recall? And we
did make so many! For there were countless numbers
of stars: each time we looked above we were
astounded by the swiftness of their daring play,
while in our hearts we felt safe and secure
watching these brilliant bodies disintegrate,
knowing somehow we had survived their fall.
Saturday, June 30, 2012
Quick! Memory barf before it fades
Field School Top Memories in Whichever Order They Pop into My Head
- Stepping out of my tent to pee at 3AM at the Great Sand Dunes National Park, CO, and gasping out loud at the Milky Way across the sky. Cursing the freezing weather and my outdated glasses...
- Zooming through Onion Creek to our campsite in a van going 95 mph. Endless stretch of road, nothing but rocks in sight...
- Avocado and sausage at the Mt. Shavano summit, gasping for air as we chewed, watching a Delta plane fly by below us
- Every dinner after a hard day of mapping. Even the questionable food always tasted delicious to me.
- Watching the sun rise behind the pastel layers of mountains while driving through South Park, CO (Yes, that South Park), listening to bluegrass
- Big bowl of green chili after each fourteener climb
- Getting snowed on while descending from Mt. Lincoln -- then we hiked/drove back several thousand feet down in elevation, and it was 103 degrees.
- Chugging a Coors Banquet tall boy (courtesy of our professor) at our vans after the last sizzling day of mapping and passing out giggly in the car. Then, passing out giggly on my bed with boots, backpack, etc. still on. Altitude gets you drunk fast.
- "Lights" dubstep remix cranked up way loud, on washboard-bumpy cliff road with a view
- Showergasm (the only appropriate word) after 6 days of not showering in the wilderness.
- Mr. Poopy, the army ammo can with a toilet seat on it -- at un unmatched luxurious location of a hill surrounded by beautiful aspens.
- Grilled pineapples, mashed potatoes, pork chops, and filet mignon at campgrounds, thanks to our TA who has worked at downtown Athens restaurants
- Dancing our butts off in downtown Cañon City after a map deadline
- Throwing rocks (at what, you ask? At whatever you want to. Actually is really entertaining) while waiting for our flat-tire-d truck to catch up
Almost all of the above are from the weekends and the two weeks of field trips. The weekdays/weeknights of mapping, which made up most of field school, aren't something I would repeat, just something I'm glad to have gone through. Those memories I have not tried to nor will I try hard to retain, but the evidence for those experiences have been etched on my body instead... As gigantic cuts and bruises on my legs and arms!! So, here, I add an extremely satisfying memory, from the mapping weekdays:
- Crushing cholla (an especially nasty variety of cactus that was everywhere) dead by throwing big rocks on them
I really won't stop thinking/talking about field school for a while. I'll never forget the last six weeks. It was a life-changing experience. I'll write more later; right now I've got to go get ready for a night out in Athens with my fellow geologists!
Monday, April 9, 2012
Kimchi Breath
My mom used to hold and rock me in her lap while talking to me. At least half the time, her breath smelled like kimchi. She'd start saying something like how much she loves me, and I would frown and turn away saying, "Your breath smells!"
Then she would crack up and laugh by herself.
Oh, mother, how I would love to smell your kimchi breath again. How I would love to lie in your lap and look up at your face again.
Then she would crack up and laugh by herself.
Oh, mother, how I would love to smell your kimchi breath again. How I would love to lie in your lap and look up at your face again.
Thursday, February 16, 2012
My Early Childhood Education
... There are three races in the world: the white race, the yellow race, and the black race. One of the ways they differ is their hair. The white race has wavy hair. The yellow race has straight hair. The black race has curly hair....
An almost verbatim excerpt from my elementary school reading textbook, published by the Korean Department of Education. Since I rarely ever saw non-Koreans, this fascinating passage was one of my favorites, and I wonder if I will ever forget it. So imagine my surprise when I first met Indians at Sope Creek Elementary. They weren't white, yellow, or black! What do you call them? What about white girls with straight hair?
I guess it was their attempt at introducing the concept of racial diversity to children in a homogeneous country in the simplest way possible. At least we weren't being taught that some races were superior than others. But still, how backward things were just about 15 years ago!
Thursday, December 8, 2011
I Couldn't Read Poetry
I think got one B in middle school. Seventh grade language arts with Ms. Regent. I had a high A in that class at first, diagramming the heck out of my sentences, having the most clear understanding of my subject and predicate and prepositional phrases... Then at the end of the semester there was a huge test on poetry, and I got a 55 on it. I still remember getting that test back and gaping in horror at this unheard-of test score. I also remember agonizing over the poem that made absolutely no sense to me and caused me to leave the entire interpretation blank:
"What happened?" asked Ms. Regent in her unforgettably shaky voice. I said, "I just did not understand the poem at all." When we went over the test, I was surprised at how everyone else had understood the poem fine.
It's a good poem. Pessimistic, but good...
Nothing Gold Can StayAfter two years in the U.S. my English was still just not good enough. I could do homework but could not tell jokes. I could dissect any sentence but could not fathom why green was gold, hue was being held, and dawn was going down.
by Robert Frost
Nature's first green is gold,
Her hardest hue to hold.
Her early leaf's a flower;
But only so an hour.
Then leaf subsides to leaf.
So Eden sank to grief,
So dawn goes down to day.
Nothing gold can stay.
"What happened?" asked Ms. Regent in her unforgettably shaky voice. I said, "I just did not understand the poem at all." When we went over the test, I was surprised at how everyone else had understood the poem fine.
It's a good poem. Pessimistic, but good...
Saturday, October 15, 2011
America! America!
I have to post today.
Ten years ago today my parents, brother, and I came to the United States.
The seasons were about the same as in Korea. The leaves were starting to change. There were so many trees along the road. Our family friend had a two-story house with double wooden doors, just like I'd seen in movies. They had a closet filled to the brim with exotic-looking snacks like Ritz Bits Sandwiches, Cheez-Itz, and Fig Newtons. They had something called a "sun room." They had thick carpet in their bedrooms. There was the same rice here. You could cook miso soup here... Wow.
That's what I remember of that night. What an exciting time it was, more so in retrospect. How things have changed, how unexpectedly things happen!
Ten years ago today my parents, brother, and I came to the United States.
The seasons were about the same as in Korea. The leaves were starting to change. There were so many trees along the road. Our family friend had a two-story house with double wooden doors, just like I'd seen in movies. They had a closet filled to the brim with exotic-looking snacks like Ritz Bits Sandwiches, Cheez-Itz, and Fig Newtons. They had something called a "sun room." They had thick carpet in their bedrooms. There was the same rice here. You could cook miso soup here... Wow.
That's what I remember of that night. What an exciting time it was, more so in retrospect. How things have changed, how unexpectedly things happen!
Sunday, June 12, 2011
Kimchi Making
Piles of quartered cabbage on the kitchen floor was one of the most exciting sights around the house. It meant that I would be tasting the goodness of fresh, unfermented kimchi that night. It only happened about twice a year. No matter how much homework I had, I would set it aside and offer to help my mother. It was the only way to get at as much of that newly-made kimchi as possible before they all went into jars.
All kinds of things went in there. I just wish I knew exactly how much, but I don't think my mother even knew. She eyeballed everything, and the result was always delicious. She cooked and cooked rice into a porridge and into a thick paste that bubbled. We put that "glue" in a big, round tub. We poured anchovy sauce. Bags of chili powder. Onions, garlic, ginger, green onions, garlic chives, radish. What else? My job would be to dump the vegetables in, and pour the sauces into her disposable-gloved hand so she can evenly spread them into the mix. The tub would be filled with a beautiful red-and-green paste. The two of us would sit on the floor, on opposite sides of the tub, take a cabbage quarter, and start stuffing each layer with the paste. Lift, stuff, spread. Lift, stuff, spread. This was my favorite part. After stuffing each quarter I would pluck off a small, yellow, pickled leaf, wrap some paste in it, garlic chives sticking out, and eat it. Salty, crunchy, spicy, refreshing, best finger food ever. We would take turns feeding each other and marveling at the taste...
The most thrilling and entertaining part of making kimchi was using up all of the paste without running out of it in the middle. We would often freak out when we saw the bottom of the tub of paste when there was still a mountain-pile of cabbage left. Then we would start stuffing so little that we would start to have a shortage of cabbage. So on and so forth, until both would miraculously be used up at the same time.
By the end, when almost a dozen jars were filled with kimchi, I would have acquired a killer garlic-onion breath that would last me about 24 hours, regardless of rigorous brushing and swishing. My stomach would be a little sour from all the raw spices. Despite wearing plastic gloves, my forearms would be stained red-orange, and soap and water did not help. And my mother would gather all the green, salty leaves that had fallen off in the tubs and make a salad kimchi of sorts (겉절이). Toss it in the leftover kimchi paste, sesame oil, sprinkle some sesame seeds, maybe soy sauce, too? I don't know what she did, but it was my favorite kind of kimchi and a delicacy I could only taste a few nights out of the year, because soon it would ferment like all other kimchi in the jars.
I just want to record these things before I forget the details.
All kinds of things went in there. I just wish I knew exactly how much, but I don't think my mother even knew. She eyeballed everything, and the result was always delicious. She cooked and cooked rice into a porridge and into a thick paste that bubbled. We put that "glue" in a big, round tub. We poured anchovy sauce. Bags of chili powder. Onions, garlic, ginger, green onions, garlic chives, radish. What else? My job would be to dump the vegetables in, and pour the sauces into her disposable-gloved hand so she can evenly spread them into the mix. The tub would be filled with a beautiful red-and-green paste. The two of us would sit on the floor, on opposite sides of the tub, take a cabbage quarter, and start stuffing each layer with the paste. Lift, stuff, spread. Lift, stuff, spread. This was my favorite part. After stuffing each quarter I would pluck off a small, yellow, pickled leaf, wrap some paste in it, garlic chives sticking out, and eat it. Salty, crunchy, spicy, refreshing, best finger food ever. We would take turns feeding each other and marveling at the taste...
The most thrilling and entertaining part of making kimchi was using up all of the paste without running out of it in the middle. We would often freak out when we saw the bottom of the tub of paste when there was still a mountain-pile of cabbage left. Then we would start stuffing so little that we would start to have a shortage of cabbage. So on and so forth, until both would miraculously be used up at the same time.
By the end, when almost a dozen jars were filled with kimchi, I would have acquired a killer garlic-onion breath that would last me about 24 hours, regardless of rigorous brushing and swishing. My stomach would be a little sour from all the raw spices. Despite wearing plastic gloves, my forearms would be stained red-orange, and soap and water did not help. And my mother would gather all the green, salty leaves that had fallen off in the tubs and make a salad kimchi of sorts (겉절이). Toss it in the leftover kimchi paste, sesame oil, sprinkle some sesame seeds, maybe soy sauce, too? I don't know what she did, but it was my favorite kind of kimchi and a delicacy I could only taste a few nights out of the year, because soon it would ferment like all other kimchi in the jars.
I just want to record these things before I forget the details.
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