2011 - A Year of Opportunities and Tough Choices

This past year has brought me to several pivotal professional, personal, and emotional crossroads in my life. Some were thrusted upon me, actions and decisions I never thought I would need to make so early in my life; and others I chose to undertake in search of perhaps less pragmatic, more ambitious paths. College may have been about exploring, expanding, and surpassing the limitations of my energy, intelligence, and passions, but the real world has left me with what the grim prospects of true “adulthood” is to be for the next 60 years of my life.

I have graduated from college with a double degree and a minor, moved back and left home within a week, stood up to my father for the first time in my life and had the ability to follow through, have had three blessedly short job searches, left two equally promising yet un-gratifying careers, supported my best friend through her marriage and pregnancy, applied for graduate school, found an apartment with my boyfriend, and have saved up enough money to pay off my rent, student loans, daily expenditures, and still have a bit left over for the car or graduate school fund I hope to one day need. Recounting all of this only reminds me of what I look ahead to: the looming expectations of graduate school, studying for the new GRE and what I hope to be a clincher for my admissions, making the transition back home as I reconcile with my father, deciding which path of Educational and Developmental Psychology I will pursue.

Yet despite all of this, I hope that 2012 will remind me that I’m just yet 22; I still have the whole world before me, a life yet unweighted with anything but my own ambitions. To lose sight of that would be to squander the youth I have left in me mourning for my uninhibited days, instead of freely pursuing the things I love most while I still can.

Love Letter to my Rutgers Family

Sappy disclaimer: I’m in that post-grad sentimental stage, so if you don’t like the smush, skip to your name/section/end =)

(If I tagged you but you weren't specifically named, it means that I haven't gotten around to writing yours but you are referred to as someone who's impacted me... Yea I got lazy/tired)

To my RCC family: RCC was the first place I ever felt at home in at Rutgers, and so much more than a student organization to me. I truly gained a FAMILY, a group of people I know I can count on to have my back, to believe in me, and whom I can see brilliant things coming from because I have witnessed firsthand the magnitude of your passion, determination, and focus.
Lo Gong Alex Chan, you have always treated me with the greatest kindness, generosity, and support that I’m certain I’m undeserving of; your humility, dedication, and practical rationality kept me from going off the deep end in the worst of times, and one of the rare people I know I can always count on to be there for me no matter the circumstances. Thank you for being so good to me, and I can’t wait to see the great successes I know is headed your way!
To my mui mui’s Tiffie and Lizzie: you girls were the shining stars in my RCC career, and I could not be more proud of the professional and personal growth I’ve seen in both of you! You both stepped up to the plate magnificently as Co-Presidents, while remaining the sweet, passionate, charming, loveable and pragmatic young women you’ve always been. I love you both like you were truly my mui muis, and know that if you ever need ANYTHING, give me a call and I’ll come running. Always.
To the jie jies and dai los that lead the way for me – Alex Chan, Jay Ho, Yuchen, Ying and others: It was YOUR inspiration, leadership, and encouragement that at once humbled me and invigorated my drive to uphold the foundations of family, unity, and responsibility you established five years ago. Thank you for setting the way and showing what it means to truly be a role model and inspiration to me when I needed someone to look up to the most. Alex and Jay: You guys believed and saw something in me when I had nothing to show for it. Your encouragement gave me the confidence to take up leadership, and the faith in the power of RCC’s familial ties. I can’t be grateful enough to you both… Yuchen: Mother! What a lady to look up to... you showed me how to be a fierce leader when necessary without compromising your loveable self, something I tried to emulate/replicate with hesitant success. Your compassion and selflessness will pay off with the kids you continue to inspire as a teacher! Ying: Though our interaction was brief in comparison, the deep impression you left always serves as the ultimate ideal of how I define leadership. You continue to be the person I hope to become, and your legacy won’t ever be forgotten by me.


To my aKDPhi Sisters: I would be NOTHING without this chapter. I could write pages about how much I owe this sisterhood, and the people who have encouraged, inspired, and pushed me to my limits and revealed to me the true meaning of determination, perseverance, faith, and sisterhood. I’m proud to be a sister of this Rutgers aKDPhi legacy, from the moment I pledged till the day I die, because I know this LnF to be eternal.
To my Biggie Diamante: I don’t know what I’ve ever done to deserve someone as GOOD as you. I have never (and I don’t think I ever will) met someone as loving, selfless, and unwavering as you have been to me. When I think of ideal sisterhood, I think of you, and I hope I make you proud one day! Thank you for never giving up on me, giving me 500% of your love, and being the perfect big <3
To my NuBs, Mommy Mo, and Pop: Nus – as far as personality goes, we are pretty much as opposite ends of the two-dimensional spectrum as it gets, but as Mommy Mo has said, we wouldn’t be complete even without just one of us there. You put up with all my crap and vice versa, we made it through everything together, and I couldn’t imagine us any other way. Love you guys <3 Mommy Mo – you are the GLUE to this family, just like any other mom. You showed us how to be strong, and face life together with strength, conviction, and with a no-bullshit attitude. You’re beautiful, strong, and intelligent, and I can’t wait to see you be a hot and successful MILF 20 years down the line! Pop X – One of the few people who know all of my facets, you’re one of my favourite people to be around. Thank you for being silly, reprimanding, motivational, sympathetic, and pragmatic when I needed it most.
Littles: Jouet – My little sis is the sweetest and most amiable girl I have ever met, and I am so proud to be able to call you little. You’ve shown such incredible sisterhood already, something crucial to our lineage, and I can’t wait to see you active and carry on that legacy. Pudgy – my silly, goofy doofus of a little bro – you take care of me and make sure I’m still sane, and read me like a book when I tell you I’m doing fine. I look forward to seeing you do big things and grow up to be an incredible young man.
Rascals - you kids are my pride and joy! Being a pledge mom to you guys was as much of a journey and learning process for me as it was for you, and I'm honored to be your Mummy (despite having coined my PE name that has forever haunted me after). Never forget that your strength lies in your differences, and that our sisterhood means we'll be there for each other, no matter what time of night or circumstance or temporary differences. I love you girls, and I will come back for you if you ever need... <3
Ninz – My PERSPECTIVE-giving, spunky, sassy, fiercely loyal, work/party hard wonderwoman. I would fight a hundred bitches for you. You’re amazing. Enough said <3
BooBie – my partner-in-crime, my “other woman”, and one of the best things to ever happen to me at Rutgers. Thanks for keeping it real with me, sharing my love for nearly EVERYTHING, being there for me when I needed you most (i.e. sharing your bed for nearly two months straight despite the fact that you’re germ-phobic and I’m chock full of them), and generally being a true sister. I am thoroughly convinced that there is no one good enough for you, and will always harbour a slight resentment towards your future husband for taking your attention and lovin away from me.
Wubs – you really are my wifey/husband. Hardworking and dedicated to a fault yet never pretentious or arrogant, unforgivingly dorky yet effortlessly cool, easy-to-adore but never demanding of it, I seriously fell in love with you from the moment I met you, and I’m so glad we’ve made it through these four years as sisters, and the rest of our lives. And this is the only time I will list what I really think of you, so I hope you have it saved, you unfaithful wench. I WILL DENY EVERYTHING.
Bigfoot and Cyndar – Bellissima! I can’t wait to be alums with you guys… Our sisterhood began when I pledged, but I know it’ll continue to grow even as we get old and wrinkly.


To my AACC family – This program was one of the most fulfilling, challenging, and gratifying experiences I have ever had the privilege of participating in. From the mentors that guided, pushed, and evaluated us, to the irreplaceable Junior Intern family that slaved together night and day, to the juggling act that was the Senior Internship, it was the people who shaped and taught me everything. I could not have accomplished what I have, and learned to be who I am today without the AACC.
Chris, Hao, Brian – you guys are the pain-in-the-ass siblings I never wanted to have… Being Interns – and more importantly, being family – with you has been such a privilege and a blessing. Your support, reassurance, and teasing got me through one of the most challenging years of my life, and I’m so glad to call you guys my fellow gammas. Chris – I mean it when I call you “goh”. I know I can count on you through everything, and even though you pretend to be gruff and stoic I know you’re marshmallow fluff inside when it comes to meee =). BK – You are such a sweetheart (er, I mean big manly Korean) underneath all that teasing, and you had my back no matter the circumstances. Thanks for always looking out for me, you’re going to do big things one day! Hao – the comic relief and the only one that was always on my side! You were always the (unconsciously) goofy one, yet I had so much to learn from you about professionalism and prioritization.
Emily - my love, my other partner in crime, and the one that always got me! You were one of the few people I met at Rutgers that I immediately knew I would adore and connect with. You are such a fierce, lovable, tour-de-force that never ceased to amaze me with your dedication and empathy. Thanks for being my girl in our rowdy band of JIs, you were all I ever needed <3

Victoria – I met you in the most unlikely of circumstances, and ultimately forged what was for me a friendship that was meant to be. You know a different side of me that few others can really say they understand, and we experienced a truly once in a lifetime experience together. Although we don’t get to see each other often (something that we MUST change!), you’ve remained one of the friends I trust to never judge, always empathize, and unfailingly break out into dance with, regardless of the situation. You are such a beautiful, intelligent, sassy, grounded girl, and I was truly blessed (and preordained!) to have met you.

To the people that have molded, driven, cared for, and contributed to the person I am today:

These past four years have been an incredible period of growth, happiness, and inspiration for me; I could not ask for a better college experience and more importantly a greater group of friends who couldn’t have treated me with greater kindness, faith, and love than you all. I truly appreciate, admire, and take for granted how supportive you have been, no matter how long I have known you for. I really mean it when I say that without you guys by my side, I would still be that dorky, unsure, unconfident fatty I came into college as. (She still lives on inside, but definitely overshadowed by the confidence and reassurance instilled in me!)

I don’t know what the future holds for me, but I do know that whatever it is I face, I will have the guidance, support, and confidence of the friends who brought me this far. So here begins the rest of my life…

Why is it so hard to say I'm sorry. But even harder to forgive?

I wish I knew... But I'll try my best at this one. Admitting fault or misconduct is to violate one's sense of pride and attest to the fact that you have done something that has revealed a weakness in character, one that has or could be detrimental to a valuable relationship. But to forgive would be to acknowledge such a weakness or mistake, and choose to continue cultivating the relationship despite the violation of trust. To forgive is counterintuitive to one's rationality; why give credit to one's apology when they have discredited their own trustworthiness in past action/words before? But thankfully/unfortunately, human nature and sympathy sometimes leads us to accept such declarations in hopes and blind faith that the violation won't occur again. And sometimes, out of self-preservation, the acceptance of the apology cannot be justified to one's self. Who is to say which is the better choice but yourself? Which is more valuable to you, the terms that have been violated or the relationship itself?

Ask away!

Thoughts on political opinion.

Its no secret that I have various political stances on many different issues, some of which overlap or vary in philosophy. However, this is not a criticism of particular political opinions, but rather a commentary on what makes any political opinion valid, or at least worthy of respect or discussion.

1. It must be an educated, rational opinion. “Because I say so”; or, rather, “Because the Bible says so” is unacceptable and idiotic. Again, this is not an attack on any particular religion, but the dogma that accompanies a lack of separation of religion and state. Your Bible is not mine.

2. It must reflect a constituent body that shares your political opinion. Politics is not about two people arguing about who’s more right/wrong; its about the policies and methods that we use to govern ourselves and how it affects the people around us; similarly, this is why I believe that un-empirical, a priori ideology also fails.

3. It must prove, to a certain degree, that their particular stance is the one that is best and most valid for the purposes of serving their constituent body. (To me, that means an American political opinion must prove itself to be the one that serves AMERICANS the best, a tricky parameter when people’s opinions of what it means to be American are vastly, vastly different)

4. Finally, and most relevant to my recent personal attacks, they must remain disengaged from yourself or the personal characteristics of the person you debate against. The validity of a political opinion is primarily founded on educated, rational, empirical and thoughtful reflection on the state of affairs. When a political debate becomes a personal attack, the aggressors’ opinion instantly becomes invalidated because of this obvious, apparent weakness in rationality. If you have been reduced to personal insult and degradation to attempt to prove your point is better than mine, you’ve ultimately hammered the last nail on your coffin, and effectively made yourself sound like a total prick who isn’t smart enough to actually come up with any valid, true assertions.

So thank you, sir/ma’am (although I fear for your future if you’re a woman), for further validating my political stances. Its been with great pleasure that I receive your childish insults, because it makes me feel smarter and better informed than you.

And if anyone has any true political opinion they would like to share or discuss with me, I would be more than happy to talk to you on a respectful, academic platform.

Love has made me...

crazy. uncivilized. cold. cruel. irrational. violent.

not myself.

Cultural Self-Degradation

I fucking hate kids who think they’re the shit because they don’t hang out with members of their own cultural community, as though hanging out with white kids and being the token asian/black/hispanic makes them cool by default. As though shame of not looking like the commercial American can be buried under a Jersey accent and Abercrombie shirts. As though their rejection of their own cultural background will help them integrate even better into the fabric of American society, ignorant of the fact that their background IS what makes them AMERICAN. As though ethnicity and identity is something you can dismiss and shed like a dirty, embarrassing outfit your parents dressed you up in and not the skin you wear for the rest of your life.

What makes me even more fucking angry is when they think that PARTAKING in the racial slurs and jokes that condemn and subjugate members of their own background- jokes based on ignorance they’re fully well aware of- will help them achieve solace in balancing two cultural identities. Or rather, the complete rejection of one through self-degradation. Well, it doesn’t. It makes you a fucking asshole and a real damn shame to the community and demographic you represent, whether you like it or not.
And what’s worst is, I know your family. I know your father and your mother and your little sisters, and they’re incredible and sweet and hope for the best for you, to see their son and brother to be a true asset to society and live a life they never could’ve achieved in their home country- a combination of their cultural values with the freedom and liberty of American society. They wanted the American dream for you.

I hope you know your self-degradation is what perpetuates racism in this country. Because if you won’t defend your own self-worth and identity, who will?

2011

My annual new year posts, in the past, had always been anticipations of the following year, of high expectations and goals to be met with a fierce determination and unwavering focus. Every year, I knew what my next steps would be: proving my own worth to myself my freshman year (met through pledging and crossing aKDPhi and winning Programming Chair of RCC); then conquering my posts as an AACC Junior intern, RCC VP External, and aKDPhi sister my sophomore year; and finally, fulfilling my high expectations as AACC Intern, RCC President, and aKDPhi Pledge Mom my junior year. And every year, I was grateful and humbled by the love and support of the people around me, whose strength, faith, and simple presence in my life made this juggle bearable and possible.

This year is different. I look back at the past three years with a grim satisfaction of the culmination of my hard work, and with a deep appreciation for my friends and family, but I no longer know what my next steps are. I try to do all the right things- gaining internship experience, working part-time as a waitress to pay for rent, working on my grades to get them up to par; but for what? What ends do the merits of my hard work achieve, and for what purpose? So I can sit at a tiny desk in the UN, hoping to save the world one file at a time? So I can work for some publications/news/journalism giant, grabbing coffee for Katie Couric's assistant's assistant? And I only realize now, the direction my pursuits have taken me towards...

I am still naive. I still believe and hope that I can save the world from itself; only now, instead of saving it one child at a time, by going into the world of international human rights and political advocacy. Except I fear that the latter is much more futile than the former. And I wonder whether that makes all of my hard work futile by relation.

Dreams Deferred

I ran into an old student of mine from Chinese school today at dinner with my family. I had taught Kindergarten for three years, and had him when he was five; now, at 13 and a full 8 years later, I barely recognized him. He was one of the first set of many children I would teach over the course of my high school career - I was only 14 when I first taught him, and I saved the little drawings he made for me, still taped on the wall in the corner of my room. It was a revelation to see him today, so grown up, and even more of a shocker when he shyly came up to me and asked for my facebook(!! of all things!!).

The encounter reminded me of the passion I once harbored for teaching and working with children; nearly every job I took in high school involved teaching kids. In addition to weekly Chinese school classes, I taught taekwondo children's beginner and advanced two times a week, guppy swimming 3 times a week, and worked as a swim camp counselor for a summer. I loved every minute of it, and damnit, I was good at it. I had a quiet patience for the naughtiest of children, an ironic contrast to the low tolerance I have for ill-behaved kids my age; I saw these kids, and overcoming their difficulties and barriers and winning their love and respect, as the ultimate mark of my capabilities as a teacher. Much more than that, I hoped to touch their hearts and minds and gain some insight into the ways in which their innocent eyes perceived, understood, and responded to the world, a fascination that led me into the field of child and developmental psychology. I had grand dreams that years later, they would still remember me as "Ali jie jie" (big sister Ali), the teacher that they shared a mutual adoration and respect for/with.

Today, I'm just relieved that he still recognizes me. When Daniel peered into my face as I asked him playfully in Cantonese "Don't you remember/recognize me?", he replies, "Yes, but you look very different now." I realized that the changes we've both endured. He is no longer the affectionate, witty five-year-old that drew me a portrait of my 14-year-old self dunking a basketball with a giant heart tattoo on my forehead (a portrait I take as a high compliment). And I am no longer that naive, optimistic 14-year-old with my pursuit of a simple passion for teaching.

What happened to this deep passion? At what point did this dream of being a child psychologist and teacher get pushed aside for a more "pragmatic" and "practical" occupation? Why did I let this dream, which could've made me so happy, slip away? And how did politics- the very opposite of the traits I'd admired in children (honesty, frankness, an open soul and mind to the world worth interpreting and probing), become the very thing I look to be involved with?

Size Medium

For Christmas, my sister got me our traditional present - VS Pink undies (for kicks and for practicality; I don’t get to do laundry much at school -__-). My heart skipped a beat and then sank when I saw the tag label - a tiny embossed “M” at the end of the pink tag.

Why should I be so bothered by the size? I’ve always known that I have a big booty for an Asian girl; heck, I’m bigger on almost all areas for an Asian girl! My sisters have always commented on my ‘donk, giving a playful slap for good measure now and then; but always reassuring me that it was a good thing to have a big butt (compliments I’m, to be honest, rather reluctant to believe, although I know they come from a good place). But I realize now that what I had a problem with was not the size of my butt, but with the fact that any part of my body was no longer a size “S”.

And what’s so wrong with no longer being a small? Growing up, I’ve had my thin moments, but they’ve always been just that - moments. I’ve always pursued my avid love for food, and while I’ve never been outright fat, I was always my mom’s “siew boon” - little fatty (it’s alot more affectionate-sounding in Cantonese, I swear!). But I have always been healthy. and always happy with how I looked, whether that came from self-ignorance or heightened self- awareness, I’m never quite sure.

I will never be built like a dancer- like Natalie Portman or Keira Knightley with bones as delicate as a bird’s- because I have never been a dancer. I will always be built like the fighter I grew up training as, with defined muscular legs, strong arms and pecs and shoulders, and yes, a bit of a belly because - lets face it, if you spent all day in a taekwondo dojangg training, you’d be pigging out when you got home too. But I’m proud of these muscles that have carried me so far, of these legs that seemed to never lose their strength even when college threatened their demise, of the scars and cuts and bruises I wore like badges on my knees and elbows at school, prizes and battle scars won from sweat and hard work.

Those days are rather far behind me now, and I admit that I could really use some serious training time at a dojangg. But I also have decided to embrace my big ass - because I am already not a size small. I am 5’ 6”, and 127lbs (124 on a good day). I have relatively slim, strong arms and legs, chubby face, small boobs, big belly, and even bigger butt. And it’s time for me to stop chasing numbers and embossed letter sizes, and get back to the old, proud ME. Even if that’s a Size Medium.

Gratitude

I'll keep this short and simple, because I don't intend for this to be some sort of lengthy poetic narrative, but merely as a reminder of what I should remember every day of my life. And as a timestamp of the many many wonderful things I have to be grateful for in this 21st year of my life.

I am grateful for the never-ending guidance and support of my sisters: the love and humour and mental sympathy of the sisters I am currently active with; the worldly guidance, affection, and candid advice of the alums that see so much potential in me; and the colorful personalities, characters, and backgrounds of which they possess and come from that only serve to brighten my life.

I am grateful for a healthy and loving family: for a father, while stoic and difficult, shows his affection, dedication, wit, and love through his own stubborn ways; for a mother whose overbearing love permeates my heart and guides me towards being a better woman and daughter; for a brother that has served to be the greatest role model of all, showing that a huge heart and perseverance can overcome any obstacles life throws at you; and for a sister that has never needed words or additional explanation to look into the very core of me and know who I am, the pain I feel, and the instant love and sense of sympathy I find from just one look.

I am grateful for the boy who has loved me through all my faults, my stubbornness; who's seen right through my facades and attempts to be stoic and resistant. You've shown me that love cannot be dismissed or saved for later; its something we must treasure and appreciate right now, while it lasts. An amazing person and a truly good man (a rarity above all), I'm grateful to have you in my life.

I am grateful for the friends that have shown me such sincerity and care throughout these past couple weeks; who, despite having exchanged few words in real life, have never hesitated to offer me a kind word or encouraging post. Yes, I am talking about you!

And finally, I am grateful for the opportunity at a bright future - for a chance at success that is both at once frightening and liberating. The world is mine for the taking, and I plan on taking it by storm. I cannot let all the people above me down; this is my exchange for my gratitude.

Books I have read, and plan on reading:

1 Pride and Prejudice - Jane Austen

2 The Lord of the Rings - JRR Tolkien

3 Jane Eyre - Charlotte Bronte

4 Harry Potter series - JK Rowling

5 To Kill a Mockingbird - Harper Lee

6 The Bible

7 Wuthering Heights - Emily Bronte

8 Nineteen Eighty Four - George Orwell

9 His Dark Materials - Philip Pullman

10 Great Expectations - Charles Dickens

11 Little Women - Louisa M Alcott

12 Tess of the D’Urbervilles - Thomas Hardy

13 Catch 22 - Joseph Heller

14 Complete Works of Shakespeare

15 Rebecca - Daphne Du Maurier

16 The Hobbit - JRR Tolkien

17 Birdsong - Sebastian Faulk

18 Catcher in the Rye - JD Salinger

19 The Time Traveller’s Wife - Audrey Niffenegger

20 Middlemarch - George Eliot

21 Gone With The Wind - Margaret Mitchell

22 The Great Gatsby - F Scott Fitzgerald

23 Bleak House - Charles Dickens

24 War and Peace - Leo Tolstoy

25 The Hitch Hiker’s Guide to the Galaxy - Douglas Adams

26 Brideshead Revisited - Evelyn Waugh

27 Crime and Punishment - Fyodor Dostoyevsky

28 Grapes of Wrath - John Steinbeck

29 Alice in Wonderland - Lewis Carroll

30 The Wind in the Willows - Kenneth Grahame

31 Anna Karenina - Leo Tolstoy longest summer of my life!!

32 David Copperfield - Charles Dickens

33 Chronicles of Narnia - CS Lewis

34 Emma - Jane Austen

35 Persuasion - Jane Austen

36 The Lion, The Witch and The Wardrobe - CS Lewis

37 The Kite Runner - Khaled Hosseini

38 Captain Corelli’s Mandolin - Louis De Bernieres

39 Memoirs of a Geisha - Arthur Golden

40 Winnie the Pooh - AA Milne

41 Animal Farm - George Orwell

42 The Da Vinci Code - Dan Brown

43 One Hundred Years of Solitude - Gabriel Garcia Marquez

44 A Prayer for Owen Meaney - John Irving

45 The Woman in White - Wilkie Collins

46 Anne of Green Gables - LM Montgomery

47 Far From The Madding Crowd - Thomas Hardy

48 The Handmaid’s Tale - Margaret Atwood

49 Lord of the Flies - William Golding

50 Atonement - Ian McEwan

51 Life of Pi - Yann Martel

52 Dune - Frank Herbert

53 Cold Comfort Farm - Stella Gibbons

54 Sense and Sensibility - Jane Austen

55 A Suitable Boy - Vikram Seth

56 The Shadow of the Wind - Carlos Ruiz Zafon

57 A Tale Of Two Cities - Charles Dickens

58 Brave New World - Aldous Huxley

59 The Curious Incident of the Dog in the Night-time - Mark Haddon

60 Love In The Time Of Cholera - Gabriel Garcia Marquez

61 Of Mice and Men - John Steinbeck

62 Lolita - Vladimir Nabokov

63 The Secret History - Donna Tartt

64 The Lovely Bones - Alice Sebold

65 Count of Monte Cristo - Alexandre Dumas

66 On The Road - Jack Kerouac

67 Jude the Obscure - Thomas Hardy

68 Bridget Jones’s Diary - Helen Fielding

69 Midnight’s Children - Salman Rushdie

70 Moby Dick - Herman Melville

71 Oliver Twist - Charles Dickens

72 Dracula - Bram Stoker

73 The Secret Garden - Frances Hodgson Burnett

74 Notes From A Small Island - Bill Bryson

75 Ulysses - James Joyce

76 The Bell Jar - Sylvia Plath

77 Swallows and Amazons - Arthur Ransome

78 Germinal - Emile Zola

79 Vanity Fair - William Makepeace Thackeray

80 Possession - AS Byatt

81 A Christmas Carol - Charles Dickens

82 Cloud Atlas - David Mitchell

83 The Color Purple - Alice Walker ;)

84 The Remains of the Day - Kazu Ishiguro

85 Madame Bovary - Gustave Flaubert

86 A Fine Balance - Rohinton Mistry

87 Charlotte’s Web - EB White

88 The Five People You Meet In Heaven - Mitch Albom

89 Adventures of Sherlock Holmes - Sir Arthur Conan Doyle

90 The Faraway Tree Collection - Enid Blyton

91 Heart of Darkness - Joseph Conrad

92 The Little Prince - Antoine De Saint-Exupery

93 The Wasp Factory - Iain Banks

94 Watership Down - Richard Adams

95 A Confederacy of Dunces - John Kennedy Toole

96 A Town Like Alice - Nevil Shute

97 The Three Musketeers - Alexandre Dumas

98 Hamlet - William Shakespeare

99 Charlie and the Chocolate Factory - Roald Dahl

100 Les Miserables - Victor Hugo

Last class registration at Rutgers. Ever.

When did time fly by so quickly? When did life get so complicated, and feel so grown-up and troubled? The realities of age has hit me like a brick this semester, and can’t say that I’m taking it well. I’ve always been self-sufficient and confident, but as the prospects of graduation draws nearer, and old age begins to affect my loved ones, I begin to realize the magnitude of the responsibilities that I’m about to undertake within the next year.
I logged into Degree Navigator today, and clicked through all of my programs.
SAS Requirements Completed: 5 of 5
Communications Requirements Completed: 5 of 6
Psychology Requirements Completed: 6 of 7
Philosophy Requirements Completed: 1 of 1
After this point, there will be no checklist to fulfill, no completion of requirements that will dictate when one chapter of our life will end and when the next begins. I’ve always been a devoted rule-follower, the best at looking forward at my next goal and completing it with passion and focus. But what’s in store for me next? What should my next steps be, and which way do I go? And why do I feel as though, despite my confidence and self-esteem, I am the only one so lost? Do I take the direction of nonprofit, and pursue my passions in political and social work? Do I go for the security of Public Relations, something I know I will excel in but have no particular interest for? Or do I stay in the world of academia, an environment reassuring and comforting to me, but makes me claustrophobic and sheltered? And what about my original passion in Child Psychology?

The Sublimity of Cetrella

Sublimity is an all-encompassing word used to describe the emotionally appealing and moving power of a particular noun (thing, person, place); regardless of the context with which it is used, sublimity has always referred to the divinity a thing can encompass. In Longinus’ definition of sublimity, he uses the term to describe the higher elevated thought or language, often used to describe rhetoric and the awe-inspiring or persuasive power of a discourse or text. But in my usage, I will use the definition of sublimity in reference to the loftiness or aesthetic elevation of a particular place or thing; in particular, of a place that has achieved such an inspiring and timeless aura and experience that could transcend any rift of language or philosophy or time. This is in reference to Immanuel Kant’s understanding of sublime – that sublimity is to be found in a formless object, unable to be replicated or shaped by any effort but sublime of its own accord and in its very existence.

I have found a place that has fit this definition, ironically, in a place surrounded and contained by materialism and expensively quantified, capitalistic lifestyles that attempt to cultivate the beautiful in imitation of sublimity, but not quite reaching it. It is so well hidden that it has retained its ethereal quality; in fact, we did not search for it but rather stumbled into it, with a guide that fit the exact caregiver of such a sublime place.

To begin understanding why I chose this place as the subject of sublimity, I will first explain the circumstances that brought me there in the first place. The location of the sublime, a valley in the heart of Capri called Cetrella, can only be accessed by taking the single-person cable car up to the highest peak of the island, and then choosing to take the rocky dirt road down instead of the 10 minute cable car ride back. It is because of this that it is so carefully guarded; the 4 mile steep hike back into Anacapri is no mean feat, and so mostly avoided by those not daring or motivated enough to see the entirety of the island. My group of friends and I begin the hike wearily, only to run into an old Italian/German gentleman that communicates with us through hand gestures, and waves for us to follow him. I guessed his age to be around the 70s, judging from the wiry health of his body and the way he gracefully and expertly maneuvers through the rocky dirt paths, a string of kids a quarter of his age tripping along behind him (we later find out he is close to 90 years old). The road forks, and he leads us down (literally) the road less traveled, a narrow dirt pathway with ribs of tree roots threatening our ankles (I have a splinter as proof) until we reach a clearing with a workshop and, in the distance, the whitewashed domed cap of a church in the distance. Next to the workshop, a terrace is perched precariously on the edge of the cliff, and the gentleman sits us down and yells through the workshop doors, procuring a band of sweaty, middle-aged Italian men from its depths. (The view from the terrace, as well as the site of the clearing and workshop and church itself, as a part of the sublimity of the experience, but more of that later.) They pull chairs and tables and a tablecloth onto the terrace, and then the parade of food begins – a full five course meal, complete with wine, water, and coffee. It’s hospitality that we’re unaccustomed to, and we’re wary of their kindness, but the appeal of the food and the view overpowers us, and we dive in after some hesitation. One of the workmen, in broken English, explains to us who they are and what was this place tucked away in the heart of Capri: the men were part of a society called “Amici di Cetrella”, and they were a group, lead by Antonino (our gentleman guide!) to preserve this valley of Cetrella from the commercialism that the rest of the island had been overtaken with. The land that the terrace, clearing, church, workshop, and a nearby home (that had been transformed into a museum by the society) sat on had been under speculation to be completely mowed over and replaced by a golf course, another by-product of the capitalism that ran the popular vacation spot for the wealthy. Since this speculation, the organization teamed up with locals and the government to fight such attempts to commercialize this last natural gem of Capri; now, the property is carefully managed and kept by the men in the workshop, who work there once a week every summer to repair the foundation and walls of the church, workshop, and museum. We had managed to call on them right after their afternoon meal, and were thereby rewarded with the surplus of their lunch – one of the most delicious meals and wonderful dining experiences I had ever experienced. After our meal, Antonino, our elderly guide, takes care to lead us through a winding path up to the church, behind the church doors and into the basement, where some men reside (their relation to the church was unexplained, but it can be assumed that they are the caretakers or pastors of the church). He explains in hand gestures and repetitive Italian that he had been the one who repaired the crumbling foundation of the church over 25 years ago. There is more to this story, but this description alone is sufficient to begin understanding the sublimity of this place and the experience that brought us there.

The location of Cetrella, as mentioned previously, is nestled in the heart of Capri, a thousand meters up a precarious slope from Anacapri and down an equally precarious path from the peak of the island. The location is key to the sublimity of Cetrella; where the island is marked in time by the commercialism of its tourists and inhabitants, transformed by the wealth of its patrons into a bustling, haughty, narcissistic playground of the elite, Cetrella remains timeless and preserved in a veil of careful seclusion. Without this seclusion, the rarity and magnitude of which its inhabitants, views, and emotional appeal embody would be merely beautiful but not precious or as awe-inspiring. Sublimity can only work if it can induce an emotional response from the onlooker by introducing a remarkable thing that has never been seen before, or can be replicated to be seen somewhere else; the experience of taking in the sublime must exist only in that experience, at that place and nowhere else.

The motivation of the men is also central to the sublimity of the place. Longinus argues that the ethical qualities of the subject of sublimity are key to the magnitude and aesthetic gravity the sublime object holds. Because the “Amici di Cetrella” are attempting to preserve the perfect, untouched and simple beauty of the land from the capitalism that would undoubtedly manipulate it into another product of wealth and class order, they recognize the sublime quality of the land that should not be eradicated. As Kant believed, the sublime is simple and sacred; it can not be manipulated and cultivated for any other purpose than to further its sublimity and the appreciation of it, or it will lose its awe-inducing power. Because this type of qualification of the sublime does not fall under the capitalistic measurement of a thing, the sublimity of it cannot be furthered by capitalism (which aims only to make profit out of its qualified goods). Furthermore, the hospitality and open arms with which we were received, and the generosity of the organization is only further elucidation to the sublime quality of their ungreedy personalities and what Aristotle would refer to as their “divine souls”. The sublime beauty of the valley itself would no longer exist without the morality and good hearts of these men, and so they too are part of the sublime quality of Cetrella.

Finally, it is the site itself and the view it offers that is the most awe-inspiring of all the qualities of the sublime. The terrace, as well as the back of the church, looks out over the aqua-blue waters of the ocean punctuated by the craggy cliffs, rocks, and streaks of white foam speedboats leave behind as they cut through the water. Anacapri can be seen if you climb the sloping stairs to the east side of the church, but aside from the occasional speedboat, one can easily imagine himself in a place completely uninhabited and untouched by man. The site itself looks like a description right out of “Anne of Green Gables”, all filtered rays of light beaming through flowering branches and strands of grass spilling out and tripping you on the fine dirt trails. The freedom and liberty of the land that allows it to take its natural shape means that it is naturally sublime and not shaped and cultivated – sublimity cannot be artificially or premeditatively created, as demonstrated by Cetrella. It has a (physical and aesthetic)loftiness or greatness that can attempt to be imitated by others, attempted to be encapsulated in photographs but the experience with which it comes with can never be duplicated.

This is the sublimity of Cetrella.

MINE

btw, if you happen to be reading this, I'm sorry if my writing's been sucking lately. It's just that i've been completely overwhelmed with everything that I've seen and done lately that I have no time or energy to process it thoughtfully and put it into the words I can't seem to find right now. For now, this blog will not serve as my medium for thoughtful expression, but merely as a journal to collect my experiences so that they won't be lost. More thoughtful entries later.

Week 2

Day 1 (of Week 2)

Classes began... the course material and discussions are incredibly interesting, but the workload is insane. i've already found myself spending alot of time doing homework... alot more than I usually do over a semester back at home. Meet Allaire and Chael, and afterwards head back to the apartment to chill. Talk to Marcia for the first time in weeks, and I realize how much i miss her - it really has been the longest time that we've been apart, and we're living such different lives right now... head out around 5 to watch Eclipse with Liz, Ryan, Catherine, and Robert. We literally trek all the way across Rome into the Touristy end, PAST the Pantheon, just to catch the movie in English. Was surprised by how good the movie was, and even better, how COMFY the seats in the Roman movie theater was - you literally get individual couches! Walked back to the Pantheon, grabbed a panini, and ate dinner on the fountain right staring at it's entrance. That's when it hit me- I'm not just any tourist in Rome - I live here now. I eat lunch on the steps of Roman arches and fountains that have been here for hundreds of years, staring at apartments and walking on cobblestone streets steeped in history - and I don't even realize how much I should be in awe of this. It was just another dinner, another place to sit down and chill in the shadow of the monument where Bernini and Victor Emmanuel now lies. Despite my newly found jadedness, we walk over to the Fountain of the Four Rivers (where in Angels and Demons, the Albino drowns the man before Tom Hanks gets the chance to save him), and I click away with my camera and pretend to be Robert Langdon. We trek all the way back to Trastevere, and grab gelato on the way - of course.

Day 2 - just another day of classes. we cook for the first time in our apartment, and we all eat together - just pasta with meat and vegetables. Manage to finish my homework and pass out by 1. I must wake up by 8:15 every day to get to class by 9... it's a weird occurrence for me, but I'm adapting to waking up earlier.

Day 3 - Class all day. Eat lunch with Allaire and Chael and two other boys, and then head back to Guarini campus to try to get some work done. End up falling asleep on the couch in the lounge instead, and wake up to Ryan's phone call for the cooking class. We make carbonara, some beef skewers with cheese and sage, and tiramisu with a gorgeous Italian chef, Andrea. I think he liked me (as a student) because he spoke to me more than the others and assigned me more cooking. Ate with Ryan, Josh, and Craig, and then left for the Spain/Germany World Cup game that was to be broadcasted by FIFA at the Villa Borghese. it takes us almost an hour to get there, and we get lost in Rome and end up watching the last five minutes of the game in an American bar in the middle of tourist district. I trek back quite late with Josh and Craig, and finish my papers and reading...

Day 4 - today! I have four readings and a paper to finish, and I am planning on going to Tuscany this weekend... it's going to be a great weekend, but I hate that I have these readings in the back of my mind... I'll just have to try to cram it all in now before I leave.

Random Observations

I've just spent my first day in Rome, and while I could go on and on and on about HOW FREAKING UNBELIEVABLY GORGEOUS everything is, I think my FB album pretty much explains all of it. Instead, there's so quirky things about Rome and Italy I want to remember.

1. There are billboards displayed on every single road. even the country bumpkin ones, where you think you could evade the commericals but you turn a sharp corner and there's a half-naked woman selling apple juice in your face. No joke. Oh yea, and these billboards mostly consist of two things, which brings me to 2 & 3

2. People are evidently VERY open about sexuality and the human body, because I've seen more gay guys kissing and half naked women on posters and billboards than I have in NYC. Seriously. It's kinda cool that they're so open and liberal about it, but those italian models makeme wanna cut back on the gelato a teensy bit. (yea right, who am I kidding?!)

3. Football is EVERYWHERE. In every corner of the airport, plastered across buses, and yes, in the aforementioned billboards as well. Again, I don't mind (hubba hubba =D), and the men, I will admit, are QUITE gorgeous here. Actually, fuck, everyone is gorgeous here. Being Asian and looking a little different from the rest of the American students here is a bit of a plus for me, I guess; at least I'm not plain or blend into the crowd easily.

4. Rome really is the city for love. There's passionate Italian couples everywhere, and the people are sweet and accomodating (besides the jerks that laugh at my terrible Italiano).

UPDATE

5. There are old-fashioned iron fountains EVERYWHERE, just for drinking. they're pumped out of the centuries-old aqueducts that still, to this day, work. we refill our water bottles and wash our face every time we pass one - the water is cold and delicious. Incredible, how easy it is to get along in Roma.

Day 5

Went to the first day of classes today. Woke up at 8, rolled around for a bit before hopping up, throwing on my romper, and jumping on the tram to get my ass to class. The first one - intercultural communication - has around 12 students, and the teacher immediately proceeds to tell us about the daily reading assignment and paper. We watch "Monsoon Wedding", which is actually pretty damn good, and I head next door after class with Allaire for our next one, Survey of Rhetoric. It only has four students, and the professor is a quirky old academic that compares Tupac to Gorgias. I head back to the apt with Liz and Ryan after class, and chat with Marcia for a while and try to nap. Catherine and Robert get back, and we all head out around 5 to catch an english viewing of Eclipse all the way across Roma. We revisit the Pantheon afterwards and grab a panini (where I left a beautiful purple belt I bought for Marcia...), then the Fountain of the Four Rivers (Piazza Navona). We walk back the full four miles... my legs are getting super strong! More class tomorrow...

Journal for Roma

Day 1: arrived at Rome, slept off jetlag and explored Trastavere (Rome's oldest neighborhood and now my temporary backyard). Got lost in back alleys of Rome and found street after street of postcard-worthy buildings and cobblestone and signs. Actually, the entirety of Rome could probably be a postcard. Ate dinner with Roomies Mary-Margaret and Alyse - carbonara with a glass of sauvignon. Passed out from weak stomach.

Day 2: Orientation. Had ridiculously strong cappucino, met Liz, Ryan, Catherine, Robert, and Ryan (my non couple buddy) and attended orientation all day. Had ice cream for lunch because of weak stomach. Walked to the Colosseum after last orientation, saw the Roman Forum, the Circus Maximus, Colosseum, and other theatres and crazy/incredible Roman ruins and sights. Wandered back to our side of the Tiber and found a neat place to eat (bruschetta, prosciutto e melone, and fruit for only 8 euro - score!), grabbed some wine and beer and headed back to our apartment. spent the night playing Kings (aka "circle of death/fire, or Mr. Dickhead?! WTF?!) and Never have I ever.... started off with a bad one (never have i ever been tied up... woops) but recovered my innocence in the end =]

Day 3: woke up late from the night before, went on Bus Tour of Christian Rome with Ryan, Liz, and Ryan. Saw St. Peters Basilica, some freaky Christian catacombs (where Ryan scared the shit out of me), and St Pauls Basilica. I was bowled over by how beautiful and intricate everything was. How grand and reverent... Hard to believe that Christianity was ever a poor religion. Wish I could upload pictures, but the damn wifi on my phone is acting up. Went to meetngreet cafe, met some other students and met up with Robert and Catherine. Ryan ditched, and we headed back to the apartment to get pretty for the night. Wandered around Trastevere at night - what a sight to see, with everything lit up and the streets packed with locals! finally found a restaurant (between getting lost, getting distracted with a pyro artist, and looking at menus), and ate. Ordered a pizza e vegetable, was not as good as the ones everyone else had yesterday. picked up some bangin gelato (tiramisu was definitely the winner, whoop!) and headed down to the Tiber to check out the nightlife. Everything was PACKED TO THE BRIM with people, food, games, and so much beer. Met up with Ryan the ditcher (who left with party people 20 mins after we arrived), bought some beers by the River, and toasted to Independence Day. Went back around 130 to catch some sleep so I could wake up in the morning for my Sperlonga trip. Woke up at 330 to a drunken call from the Ditcher at the vatican, completely lost. Hang up and sleep.

Day 4 - Wake up at 7 with only four hours of sleep, head over to the meeting point with Alyse and Mary Margaret. Met a bunch of girls on the bus on the way over the Sperlonga, including a bunch of kids from Rutgers, and basically find a new circle of girlfriends for (at least) the day. Arrived at Sperlonga, the most BEAUTIFUL Mediterranean beach village, complete with white stucco walls and blue doors and views to die for. End up swimming and tanning and eating lunch (had a paella-esque risotto with shrimp and crab and mussels and clams - yum!). It was too hot to go back to tan, so we hike back up to the main village to soak in the gorgeous sights and eat gelato and smoke in the town square. We finally leave for Rome, a three hour trip on the bus where everyone passed out, and here I am. School starts tomorrow, so more updates later.

Back to Basics

It's been such a refreshing change of pace, this summer. From this crazy whirlwind of a year, juggling my internship, RCC, aKDPhi and being mommy, to my schoolwork, my boyfriend (now coming up 11 months!) and my family. I've sacrificed more than I realized, but I've been insisting all along that it would all be worth it. and it has been.

But I'm tired. I didn't realize just how tired until I was able to take this one deep breath and notice how much I'd been missing; notice how little I interact with the friends that aren't associated or not workmates; how grey my father's hair has been getting; how I've been missing out on cultivating new and exciting friendships as well as maintaining old ones; how my grades have been lackluster due to such a hectic schedule and inability to keep my priorities in check (academics, too late do I realize now, ALWAYS come first). This past year has really taken a toll on my nerves and body, and I don't think if it weren't for the steady, loving people that held me up when I let myself break down in private, I would be quite sane today.

So I'm working on it. Working on myself, making sure that I work my butt off for ME and MY grades before anything first. Working on these new friendships, getting to know new people and looking for prospective ******s. Working on mending this huge gap between my family and I, watching late night movies with my brother, gardening for my dad and early morning diner breakfast runs with my mom. Learning what to do with all these newfound time, filling it up with what I enjoy instead of what I must do for the sake of my job, my organization, my sisters. Learning WHAT it is that I enjoy, which was surprisingly simple (reverting back to my nerd days, and finding the next book or drama to obsessively pursue). I'm going back to the basics, finding out what essential parts of me are still here, and have not dissipated in my pursuit of ambition or success. I've owed this to myself for a very long time now.

Precious.

I've mentioned before that I often think of death, and how satisfied I would be with what I've accomplished if my life were to be suddenly cut short. I've always lived by this thought, by the determination that, should that ever happen to me, that I would never look back and see missed opportunities and half-hearted attempts. That I would look back, and see the legacy and the memories I've created, and harbor no regrets. Little did I know that I was thinking of Ying all along.

Ying was incredibly special to me. We were not close; when we spoke the rare times, she was nice but impersonal. But she represented so much to me - she was incredibly successful, a fearless and dedicated leader; she was smart, capable, and confident. She was part of the Cap and Skull Society, spearheaded the very first class of the AACC Internship, and, most importantly to me, re-dug RCC out of its ashes. She was everything I had hoped to become. Her name was carved into everything I accomplished, three steps ahead.

When I'd heard about her passing today, my thoughts immediately went to my thoughts about life, death, and success. Life is so incredibly precious, and could be taken away at any moment's notice. It does not wait for you to accomplish your goals, to mend friendships, to recover from heartbreak. You can't tell it to hold off until your birthday, can't promise it peaceful return in exchange for one last chance. To be able to look back, and believe that I have truly done everything I can and taken every opportunity I could, that is all I could wish for.

Rest in Peace, Ying. You will forever be VIVA RCC.