As it is now late August, a terrible time has come upon us. We may wail, beat our chests, and cry pitiosly, but the march of time cannot be stopped. And so we sadly pack our suitcases and bid a tearful goodbye to summer.
Some of us have already returned to school. Some of us will be back soon. Two of us will be starting college for the first time. And as exciting as it is to be reunited with friends from around the country (or to meet new ones), there is still a certain sadness involved when the time comes to leave home (note: the author has only been home for the last week and is not yet sick and tired of having nothing to do but sit around all day).
But inevitably, go we must. We go to new roommates and new classes, often in old buildings with old professors. We go to clubs, dance teams, afternoon tea and bible study (to each their own). We go with memories of exotic, far away places, exciting adventures, and plenty of new photographs.
And most of all, we go with the knowledge that this year, perhaps, can be just a little better then the year before. We'll try something new, meet someone new, learn something new. With each year, so may new things, and there's no going back.
The time has come.
Wednesday, August 26, 2009
Wednesday, August 12, 2009
Thursday, July 30, 2009
The Trials (and Errors) of Traveling
Last Friday, I stood in the 100 degree heat. I was waiting for my taxi.
Not a very good beginning, but that's how it started.
I was on the side of Mills Avenue, the street that divides Pitzer and Scripps campuses. I chose this spot because it's the only street address I knew for Pitzer. 1050 N. Mills Ave., aka Pitzer admissions office, Smith Campus Center. I didn't intend to be there long, I had about ten minuets before my taxi was supposed to be there. The time was 2:20. My train left the station in Pomona at 3:10.
A little while later, I checked my watch. 2:40. My taxi was ten minuets late. I called the company, and no-one answered the phone. I started to panic. I dialed 411 on my phone, and was given the number for Claremont Yellow Cab. I called them, and explained that I had called ahead for a cab from another company, and it hadn't shown up. I was catching a train leaving at 3:10. I needed a cab as soon as possible.
"Oh, yeah, we got a cab near you, just wait a little, they'll come get ya."
It was hot out there. I had been saving my water bottle for the train, but I took a few sips in a futile effort to cool off. I was getting nervous. Where was my cab? I looked at my watch again. 2:50. Twenty minuets before my train left. I called the company again.
"Oh, looks like we've got a cab about 20 minuets away, they'll come get you"
I explained again that my train left in 20 minuets, that was too long, I would miss my train. I couldn't miss that train. The response was apathetic at best. I was told that this was they best they could do, so I was stuck.
I started to cry. Then I had an idea. I prayed it would work, that it wasn't too late. I called the 1-800 number for Amtrak. The woman I got on the phone was very understanding. "Oh, don't worry about it hon. Just you try and get yourself to Ontario. Now remember, that train leaves at 3:35. You've got about 45 minuets to catch it. Just you try and get yourself a cab." I thanked her profusely, and waited.
At 3:05 my cab came. I got in and said "Ontario Amtrak station, please."
The driver turned to look at me. "But I'm supposed to take you to Pomona."
I took a deep breath and explained that yes, he was supposed to take me to Pomona, but that train left in five minuets, so now I had to get to the next stop, which is Ontario, and it would be appreciated if we got there quickly.
He still looked puzzled. "But, Ontario's east 'a here. Pomona's west. It's the other way." I gave up, and just asked again that he get me to Ontario.
After a minuet or too, I told him that I was going to pay with credit card. He scowled. "We don't like no credit cards, miss. The company charges us somethin awful for them. It's like eight percent. Do you have an ATM card?" I said yes, it's a debit card. He shook his head. "No, I mean like, we stop at a bank and you go get me some cash."
Honestly, I was stunned. To be fair, I don't think he meant it to be as menacing as it sounded. I think the guy just wanted to be paid in cash, thank you very much. Still, this frightened me slightly. I made the excuse that there probably wasn't enough time. Which was true.
We pulled into the station at 3:20. I handed him my card and waited for him to process it. It seemed to take several minuets, but I'm sure it was maybe one or two. I was just frantic to get on that train, now that I'd made it. I got out of the cab, thanked him, and ran across the street to the platform.
At this point, I discovered another problem. Since I was originally leaving from Pomona, I didn't have an actual ticket. At the Pomona station, they have little ticket dispenser machines, and you key in your confirmation code to get your ticket. This was not the case here. There were no dispensers to be found.
I asked around, and learned that to leave from this station, you had to get your tickets mailed to you.
To put it bluntly, I didn't have a ticket.
The train pulled up. I was trying not to cry again. I just wanted to get on that train. The conductor got out, and started to direct people to the appropriate car for their destination. Mine was down near the end. I got to the door, where there was a gentleman checking tickets and assigning seats. I showed him my paper, with the confirmation code and started to explain- when he cut me off. "Seat 58 is open."
I entered the train and climbed the tiny little staircase. on the second level, there were about a hundred rows of seats. I looked for seat number 58, and found it. I sat down, and relaxed. I'd made it.
The train pulled out from the station.
A young man tapped on my shoulder.
"Excuse me miss, you're sitting in my seat." I looked around. "This is seat 58, isn't it?" "Yes, and it's mine." I got up, and stood in the aisle. Once again, a small catastrophe. Eventually, the man who had told me where to sit came up the steps and down the aisle. I got his attention, and explained. He looked confused, and consulted his chart.
"Oh, well, 56 should be open." he turned around, and looked at the seat in question. There was an elderly woman sitting in it. "Did you move?" he asked her, rather gruffly. She shook her head, and told him smugly that he himself had seated her there. He looked at his chart again, and started moving down the rows of seats. Finally, he found one that was unoccupied on his (somewhat dubious) chart, and in reality. I sat there. It was a window seat, and the seat next to me was empty. I sat for a few minuets and watched the dregs of civilisation float past my window.
The conductor came up, and started collecting tickets. When he got to me, I started to explain that I didn't have a ticket, but I did buy one and that my taxi... and then the other taxi... and I found out that the station... He laughed. "Oh, it's fine," he said, "your credit card is only used to hold the ticket anyway. Say, how much did they quote you for online?" I told him. "Really? Now that's a bit much. Here, you've had a tough day. How bouts I give it to you for 20 less?"
I thanked him profusely, an handed him my card. He gave me a ticket, marked the seat taken and moved on down the aisle.
I had made it.
Not a very good beginning, but that's how it started.
I was on the side of Mills Avenue, the street that divides Pitzer and Scripps campuses. I chose this spot because it's the only street address I knew for Pitzer. 1050 N. Mills Ave., aka Pitzer admissions office, Smith Campus Center. I didn't intend to be there long, I had about ten minuets before my taxi was supposed to be there. The time was 2:20. My train left the station in Pomona at 3:10.
A little while later, I checked my watch. 2:40. My taxi was ten minuets late. I called the company, and no-one answered the phone. I started to panic. I dialed 411 on my phone, and was given the number for Claremont Yellow Cab. I called them, and explained that I had called ahead for a cab from another company, and it hadn't shown up. I was catching a train leaving at 3:10. I needed a cab as soon as possible.
"Oh, yeah, we got a cab near you, just wait a little, they'll come get ya."
It was hot out there. I had been saving my water bottle for the train, but I took a few sips in a futile effort to cool off. I was getting nervous. Where was my cab? I looked at my watch again. 2:50. Twenty minuets before my train left. I called the company again.
"Oh, looks like we've got a cab about 20 minuets away, they'll come get you"
I explained again that my train left in 20 minuets, that was too long, I would miss my train. I couldn't miss that train. The response was apathetic at best. I was told that this was they best they could do, so I was stuck.
I started to cry. Then I had an idea. I prayed it would work, that it wasn't too late. I called the 1-800 number for Amtrak. The woman I got on the phone was very understanding. "Oh, don't worry about it hon. Just you try and get yourself to Ontario. Now remember, that train leaves at 3:35. You've got about 45 minuets to catch it. Just you try and get yourself a cab." I thanked her profusely, and waited.
At 3:05 my cab came. I got in and said "Ontario Amtrak station, please."
The driver turned to look at me. "But I'm supposed to take you to Pomona."
I took a deep breath and explained that yes, he was supposed to take me to Pomona, but that train left in five minuets, so now I had to get to the next stop, which is Ontario, and it would be appreciated if we got there quickly.
He still looked puzzled. "But, Ontario's east 'a here. Pomona's west. It's the other way." I gave up, and just asked again that he get me to Ontario.
After a minuet or too, I told him that I was going to pay with credit card. He scowled. "We don't like no credit cards, miss. The company charges us somethin awful for them. It's like eight percent. Do you have an ATM card?" I said yes, it's a debit card. He shook his head. "No, I mean like, we stop at a bank and you go get me some cash."
Honestly, I was stunned. To be fair, I don't think he meant it to be as menacing as it sounded. I think the guy just wanted to be paid in cash, thank you very much. Still, this frightened me slightly. I made the excuse that there probably wasn't enough time. Which was true.
We pulled into the station at 3:20. I handed him my card and waited for him to process it. It seemed to take several minuets, but I'm sure it was maybe one or two. I was just frantic to get on that train, now that I'd made it. I got out of the cab, thanked him, and ran across the street to the platform.
At this point, I discovered another problem. Since I was originally leaving from Pomona, I didn't have an actual ticket. At the Pomona station, they have little ticket dispenser machines, and you key in your confirmation code to get your ticket. This was not the case here. There were no dispensers to be found.
I asked around, and learned that to leave from this station, you had to get your tickets mailed to you.
To put it bluntly, I didn't have a ticket.
The train pulled up. I was trying not to cry again. I just wanted to get on that train. The conductor got out, and started to direct people to the appropriate car for their destination. Mine was down near the end. I got to the door, where there was a gentleman checking tickets and assigning seats. I showed him my paper, with the confirmation code and started to explain- when he cut me off. "Seat 58 is open."
I entered the train and climbed the tiny little staircase. on the second level, there were about a hundred rows of seats. I looked for seat number 58, and found it. I sat down, and relaxed. I'd made it.
The train pulled out from the station.
A young man tapped on my shoulder.
"Excuse me miss, you're sitting in my seat." I looked around. "This is seat 58, isn't it?" "Yes, and it's mine." I got up, and stood in the aisle. Once again, a small catastrophe. Eventually, the man who had told me where to sit came up the steps and down the aisle. I got his attention, and explained. He looked confused, and consulted his chart.
"Oh, well, 56 should be open." he turned around, and looked at the seat in question. There was an elderly woman sitting in it. "Did you move?" he asked her, rather gruffly. She shook her head, and told him smugly that he himself had seated her there. He looked at his chart again, and started moving down the rows of seats. Finally, he found one that was unoccupied on his (somewhat dubious) chart, and in reality. I sat there. It was a window seat, and the seat next to me was empty. I sat for a few minuets and watched the dregs of civilisation float past my window.
The conductor came up, and started collecting tickets. When he got to me, I started to explain that I didn't have a ticket, but I did buy one and that my taxi... and then the other taxi... and I found out that the station... He laughed. "Oh, it's fine," he said, "your credit card is only used to hold the ticket anyway. Say, how much did they quote you for online?" I told him. "Really? Now that's a bit much. Here, you've had a tough day. How bouts I give it to you for 20 less?"
I thanked him profusely, an handed him my card. He gave me a ticket, marked the seat taken and moved on down the aisle.
I had made it.
Friday, June 12, 2009
An Ode to an Ant (and a hundred more)
Oh ant,
Why do you insist
Upon living in my bathroom?
You may be small
But you are a large nuisance,
Walking across the counter
Outside, I hear,
Is a very nice place to live
Much better then under
A leaky sink
What do you eat,
Oh ant?
For the bathroom does not have
Any food.
One day,
I will enter the bathroom
And you will be gone.
If my maintenance request is filled.
Why do you insist
Upon living in my bathroom?
You may be small
But you are a large nuisance,
Walking across the counter
Outside, I hear,
Is a very nice place to live
Much better then under
A leaky sink
What do you eat,
Oh ant?
For the bathroom does not have
Any food.
One day,
I will enter the bathroom
And you will be gone.
If my maintenance request is filled.
Monday, June 8, 2009
The Contents of my Snack Box on the Airplane from Shanghai to Xi'an
-Dried apple and sweet potato chips
-a roll
-some sort of cakeishness
-water
-onion cookies with original flavor
-yi lin dried radish
Sunday, May 3, 2009
Sunday, April 26, 2009
Bread! (and the Aimie encounter)
Okay, so there are two events in this set of pictures. One is proof of the highly exciting meeting of Aimie and Rianne in Texas. We failed quite miserably at self-photography, so we had to get somebody else to take a good picture of us. Still, fun times were had in Texas, and I learned that the Baylor dining halls are far superior to our own.
Event 2: BREAD! For our Intro to Chemical Engineering class, we had to come up with an egg drop project, that was supposed to somehow involve or be based off of a chemical compound or chemical reaction. This was to be dropped out of an 8th-floor window in the Engineering Center. Our group decided that the best plan of action was to make a massive loaf of bread, and stick the egg in the middle. We figured while we were at it, we would make some more bread just to eat, because bread is quite good. So we made three batches of dough, which in hindsight was probably excessive, but we ended up with lots of nice bread. Interestingly, I had chosen this recipe for its simplicity and short ingredient list, and because the reviews said it was basically impossible to screw up – not based on any flavor criteria whatsoever. Turns out, it was ridiculously tasty, and so we were glad we had made so much dough. So, we used the biggest round one as the project bread, and the other loaves were for consumption. Day of the drop, I was cutting a hole in the bread to put the egg in, and then we were going to reseal it with the core and some peanut butter. When I cut and removed a core of the bread, I noticed there was a hole underneath it. Turns out, the giant loaf of bread had a large hollow in the center. Don’t get me wrong, there was still about 2 inches of thickness on all sides, but there was also a large cavern in the center of the bread, which is not conducive to cushioning an egg. So, after a panicked call to a teammate, we decided to pack it with Kleenex and call it good. So, I dropped it off in its little grocery bag with no further ado. Although I wasn't actually at the egg drop to see it, our egg did survive its miraculous flight from the 8th story of the engineering tower. However, the official egg-drop-droppers neglected to remove it from the bag before throwing it out the window. This didn’t affect the performance of our loaf, but it did make it look a little less cool. And such was the fate of the large loaf. The smaller round one, we gave half to the people whose kitchen we had used, and half went to one of the guys in our group. The two baguette-shaped things both came back to Hallett, and were entirely gone before 24 hours was up. Yum.
Event 2: BREAD! For our Intro to Chemical Engineering class, we had to come up with an egg drop project, that was supposed to somehow involve or be based off of a chemical compound or chemical reaction. This was to be dropped out of an 8th-floor window in the Engineering Center. Our group decided that the best plan of action was to make a massive loaf of bread, and stick the egg in the middle. We figured while we were at it, we would make some more bread just to eat, because bread is quite good. So we made three batches of dough, which in hindsight was probably excessive, but we ended up with lots of nice bread. Interestingly, I had chosen this recipe for its simplicity and short ingredient list, and because the reviews said it was basically impossible to screw up – not based on any flavor criteria whatsoever. Turns out, it was ridiculously tasty, and so we were glad we had made so much dough. So, we used the biggest round one as the project bread, and the other loaves were for consumption. Day of the drop, I was cutting a hole in the bread to put the egg in, and then we were going to reseal it with the core and some peanut butter. When I cut and removed a core of the bread, I noticed there was a hole underneath it. Turns out, the giant loaf of bread had a large hollow in the center. Don’t get me wrong, there was still about 2 inches of thickness on all sides, but there was also a large cavern in the center of the bread, which is not conducive to cushioning an egg. So, after a panicked call to a teammate, we decided to pack it with Kleenex and call it good. So, I dropped it off in its little grocery bag with no further ado. Although I wasn't actually at the egg drop to see it, our egg did survive its miraculous flight from the 8th story of the engineering tower. However, the official egg-drop-droppers neglected to remove it from the bag before throwing it out the window. This didn’t affect the performance of our loaf, but it did make it look a little less cool. And such was the fate of the large loaf. The smaller round one, we gave half to the people whose kitchen we had used, and half went to one of the guys in our group. The two baguette-shaped things both came back to Hallett, and were entirely gone before 24 hours was up. Yum.
Tuesday, April 21, 2009
Sprinkler On a Sunny Day
As the heat
Rises
My attention
Drops
Like water I
wish
I could be in
Class, at
100
Is an impossible
Feat
In a building
Without
Air conditioning
En clase, hacíamos
hablado
Del calor, y pensamos
De frío
Cunado aprendiendo
La tema
De pluscuampefecto
Returning from lunch,
I see
A sprinkler, watering
the lawn
I forget the tests
exams
And other worries, just
R U N
Rises
My attention
Drops
Like water I
wish
I could be in
Class, at
100
Is an impossible
Feat
In a building
Without
Air conditioning
En clase, hacíamos
hablado
Del calor, y pensamos
De frío
Cunado aprendiendo
La tema
De pluscuampefecto
Returning from lunch,
I see
A sprinkler, watering
the lawn
I forget the tests
exams
And other worries, just
R U N
Wednesday, April 15, 2009
Okay, here I am!
So, just got back from the third Diff Eq midterm, and this conversation between my roommate and I summed it up pretty well, I think:
Background: We had just left the testing room. 5-question, 100-point test, 1st section "multiple choice" (but it really was short answer) had 6-6point subquestions, no partial credit, with the other other 4 sections adding up to the remaining 64 points.
"So, how did it go?" I asked.
"It seemed pretty good...well, I didn't really get 2c or 5c. And I didn't really know what I was doing on the multiple choice section on the front either. But aside from that-"
"So, besides half the test, it went pretty well?"
"Yeah, that's about right."
And that was about how I felt, too. In these situations, there is only one thing to do:
Hope everyone else did worse.
Background: We had just left the testing room. 5-question, 100-point test, 1st section "multiple choice" (but it really was short answer) had 6-6point subquestions, no partial credit, with the other other 4 sections adding up to the remaining 64 points.
"So, how did it go?" I asked.
"It seemed pretty good...well, I didn't really get 2c or 5c. And I didn't really know what I was doing on the multiple choice section on the front either. But aside from that-"
"So, besides half the test, it went pretty well?"
"Yeah, that's about right."
And that was about how I felt, too. In these situations, there is only one thing to do:
Hope everyone else did worse.
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