Living the Day Up, and Learning From an Old Mistake

One thing that I really enjoy, is being able to go through highs-and-lows during Max Out. Today is the epitome of having both highs and lows.

Let's start with the highs:

A GREAT speaker event (Parry Shen is awesome) on Friday, and after taking Parry back to the airport, I was able to go to Uncle Bill's, and really catch up with a close friend of mine. We used to always have a bunch of classes together, so this semester was really weird not having him within close proximity to talk to and chill with. This was a much needed time to just really get back in touch, a break from our equally busy, hectic student lives.

Today was ResCollege Olympics, and needless to say, I was there to play soccer. Granted, I didn't mind playing for any particular rescollege, so I ended up playing on both the RUSoFo team, and one of the Park-Mudd teams. I haven't been able to really get out and exercise much, because I've been so busy ironing out logistics to make sure Parry Shen's talk (see previous high) went as smoothly as possible. Soccer has definitely been used as a stress reliever; great weather, and just being able to do some physical activity was much needed on my sanity. I played a total of 5 games of soccer, had a lot of fun, even though our teams didn't make it to the finals.

Went to Journey's Easter weekend service, and I really enjoyed the speaker, and the verses that were covered (Phillipians 3:1-10). I particularly enjoyed this service because I felt it applied to my life so much sooner and recent than usual (see low). And to be expected, I just love worship, because I'm so musically inclined. There's always that warm fuzzy feeling with a side of goosebumps when I hear a musical and/or lyrical phrase that I really like. Anyone have music they can give me/recommend? I'm always open to new music, be it Christian or not.

Finally, I got to catch dinner with one of my close friends, and she also happens to be one of my favorite people. We have both been really busy lately, and having MCATs imminent has stressed both of us out, her especially. It was definitely good to just get away from all the work, and just be able to sit down and talk over a nice light meal at St. Louis Bread Co. and then cap off the night with Fro-Yo. I feel like why I enjoy her company so much, is that we can literally talk about everything; our experiences and backgrounds are similar so that we can relate to stuff that the other is talking about. I definitely want to make time so that we can have more of these short catch-up times.

On the flipside, my only real low:
After RCO soccer ended, I rested up and prepared for my intramural soccer game. Initially, I was excited because I had been playing so much soccer today, that another game was just adding onto the joy. It turned out that the team we were playing was literally a ragtag band of freshmen that decided to organize a soccer team; most of them have not touched a soccer ball in however many years, if at all. Honestly, one would think that playing an easy team would be more relaxing, less stressful. Au contraire, ma cherie. Our team started out playing pretty slow, and being not used to playing a truly competitive team, we played incredibly sloppy, and as a result, the first half score ended as a 0-0 tie, despite many good chances and potential opportunities blown. To cap off my frustration with this, the other team ended up trash talking us because they knew the only reason why they were keeping up with us was because we were playing so poorly.

I can't quite explain it, but this really set me off. The trash talk went straight to my head, and I found myself yelling at my own team, language barrier turned off, the whole nine yards. It was only sometime in the second half, that I realized it was negatively affecting how I was playing my game, and including the game of others. With the insight and input of some of my teammates, I switched off the field, and literally cooled my head by pouring cold water on myself. We finished the game 4-0.

This game was a real eye-opener for me. I haven't felt THIS angry at anything in a very long time. I suppose I believed that I changed that part of me, that I could control my temper, that I wouldn't let anything of the sort phase me. How quickly the temper re-emerged during this game, over an essentially trivial matter, really scares me. I really got to reflect on this during dinner with my close friend (see above); it definitely put stuff into perspective.

It indicates how much further I have to go from committing oneself to one's religion, versus surrendering oneself to one's religion. I have a long way to go, but at least the thought and realization is comforting.

Sorry about the wall of text. Busy day, no?

Circadian

Eliot lay on his bed. The blinds shut the moonlight from entering, and his room door closed to the late night stirring of his suitemates. For now, it was only the little green flashing light of the smoke detector, and the eerie glow of Eliot's labtop computer, slowly playing his playlist of Coldplay.

Eliot sits up, and turns his head to his desk clock. 4:02AM. "One of those nights again," he sighs to himself. As he gets out of his bed, Eliot looks at the stack of paper messily compiled in the TO-DO box, clearly the only offending piece of his otherwise neatly kept room. After a slight hesitation, Eliot elects to not to dig into the pile. "I'll get to it tomorrow," he reassures himself.

"What to do now then?"

He thinks of the past; his life has just been a blur. A messy collage assembled with only half the effort, and a fourth of the time. As he sits in front of his computer, Eliot rubs his eyes, so many questions. Where did his motivation go? Where is his youthful drive? What is he doing with his life?

Coldplay's The Scientist comes on:

Nobody said it was easy.

Nobody ever said it would be so hard.

Oh, take me back to the start.

It was time for Eliot to go back to the start. As the song ended, Eliot climbed back into bed, awaiting his fresh start, one that would come with the newborn sun of tomorrow.

Relay For Life Reflections

After hearing some really moving stories about people who've personally struggled with cancer, I felt that I should share my story, from the other side of the mirror.

Cancer has not been a new topic for me for sometime now. Having done a bunch of cancer research, I've never seen it as a taboo term or even as mentioned during the opening ceremony, "a death sentence."

I suppose it is for the better, as I've always looked at cancer as a disease that hasn't had a cure simply for one reason: there are too many causes to isolate a failsafe, one-size-fits-all cure that may apply for other illnesses. I've personally experienced the troubles that researchers and scientists face trying to get enough funding, since there are too many pathways that may lead to cancer, so who knows where to start?

This is why I relay. I know that cancer isn't some invincible disease, and that if we have the money and public awareness, we can beat this disease together. I relay so that people working on a cure will have the financial means to further explore the labyrinth that is cancer. I relay so that people I've met in geriatric oncology wards will have a better prognosis. I relay so that we remove the social stigma behind cancer.

That being said, just because cancer is a serious condition, doesn't mean the fundraising events have to be just as serious. Relay For Life ranged from truly inspirational stories shared by cancer survivors, to energetic, fun routines of zumba. I can say that I got to not only reconnect with myself and reflect on where I stand on cancer, but also to connect to many of those close to me, having fun, and coming together to support a worthy cause.

My favorite moment of the night would have to be our silent prayer circle, reaching out and praying for those names on the luminaria bags. Although I'm not one to pray out loud, one of the names that I prayed for was Pamela, whose bag had in parentheses, (My Mommy). These two words really rang inside me, and let me realize how blessed and fortunate I have been, that no one in my direct family has ever been diagnosed with cancer. My good wishes go out to this family, and only reinforces that I'm doing the right thing.

The Tavern

"...And then she says, 'You got a crush on that girl, boy?' "

"What? Get out of here, that's ridiculous!"

The two men laugh heartily at the story. John and Rick were regulars at O'Malloy's pub. It was a homey place, with wooden tables and benches. Saint Patrick's day was coming up, so the place was dressed head to toe with green streamers and other clover-shaped paraphernalia. The two men were sitting in the corner booth, eating, drinking, having a good time.

John was a tall, lean but built man. Still young in many respects, but with a mature mind that liked exploring deeper meanings. Rick, in contrast, was a bit older, a stronger and wiser fellow. John and Rick originally became acquainted through community sports, but through further interaction, they soon became like brothers.

The two of them were usually too busy with their own lives to "hang out" per se, but John came to Rick for advice usually in times of stress. Other times, they would make time for each other just to talk.

Tonight was no exception.

"So let me get this straight. This girl just asks you if you were crushin' on her friend?"

"Yeah, it was kind of out of the blue. She even pulled me to the side and was all hush hush about everything."

"Now that's a real hoot. This is cause I know you don't love her that way."

"It's all perspective, isn't it?"

"Nah, John. To be perfectly honest, love for a sister shouldn't ever be confused with love for a lover."

"How would you tell the difference to avoid confusion? For yourself, and for others?"

"Hey now, if I knew that, I'd be a really rich man, wouldn't I?"

The two men laughed. As they both clanked mugs and finished their drinks, their laughter echoed through the otherwise empty tavern.

The Girl

She's one of those types that you kind of know, but to be perfectly honest, you don't really know her. A girl who is as mysterious as is appealing; the only true connection you've ever had to her was probably through mutual friends. The stories that people say about her, only peak your interest more, and you introduce yourself to her.

Turns out, she's not as straightforward as you once thought. There are so many things that are not covered by surface level conversations,only after some one-on-one time do you find out what she's actually really about. You like what you see and hear, but you're scared of commitment; is anyone truly ready at this time, at this age?

Despite your best efforts, things get a little bumpy, as your relationship to her is kind of on and off. There are disagreements, misunderstandings, and potentially even periods of denial. But in the end, there's always something that keeps pulling you back to her.

You're like a new person to me now, and I like what I see.

Faith.

My Sophie

My Sophie is like no other.

I've heard stories of her kind before: usually independent, strong-willed, and beyond a doubt capable. These stories almost always attached a sign of warning, to be extra careful not to get onto the bad side of one of them, as it usually ends poorly for me and others in my place.

But like I said before, my Sophie's different from them. She's irresistibly cute, and despite my attempts of getting her to fend for herself, I find myself caring more and more for her; she's unbelievably needy and I guess that's a sign of weakness on my part. I can't NOT care for her...who can resist those beautiful eyes?

What's worse, I find myself completely entranced by her. When she's there with me, I can't focus. I try, and I fail. I try again, and I find myself playing, spending time with her again. But on top of it all, I don't feel guilty in not doing my work, as I'm loving every waking moment with her. It's hard to say exactly why; in fact, it's frustrating me to no end. Is it Love?

She, however, does not always reciprocate. Her mood constantly fluctuates, leaving me in a quandary to guess the correct method of approaching her. There are times in which she has scratched me with her nails, bit my fingers to get me to stop, forcing me to rethink/reconsider my actions and choices. Whether it is in retribution, or merely out of spite, it hurts me more than any pain a stranger could inflict.

Why do I do this to myself? It's interesting to think of cases and pointing out everyone else's problems, but I guess when it happens to me, I don't process it as easily, nor do I realize what I've gotten myself into. I suppose the devotion gets me somewhere, or does it?

I guess my kitten isn't as different from the others as I thought.

Holiday

It's quiet.

Too quiet. I reached into my pocket and pulled out my phone. 3:59AM, the digital numbers shown very clearly in contrast to the dark night. I put my phone back on standby, turn my gaze to the stars. Little pixies, dancing, flickering, swimming in a soup so black it can't be fluid.

Suddenly, a bright light approaches. I cover my eyes with a hoodie sleeve, and a train of taxi cars rush by and park temporarily by the curb. The driver who pulled up first, turned off the engine and stepped out of his car, leaving his headlights on. He was a man in his fifties, looked healthy and spoke with a voice to back it up. He looked at me, and said, "You need a ride, kid?" I told him, "No, I'm good. I'm not actually leaving."

The driver laughs heartily, and follows up his first question, this time with a curious undertone to his inquiry, "What are you doin' out here at 4 in the morning? Don't you college kids normally catch up on sleep during the Holiday?"

This question took me by surprise. I had completely forgotten that Holiday had arrived. I had been so busy, that it had completely slipped my mind. I thanked the driver for the notice, and ran back to my suite. When I opened the door (which was no longer propped open), everything dawned on me.

My suite was completely pitch dark, single rooms with all doors open, things rummaged through, missing clothes, electronics, people. The only response in the entire suite was an echo coming from the bathroom. After finding no one in the suite, I walk into the hallway, checking for other people. I called a few friends, texted a few others, trying to reach out. No use, no response. I ran down the stairs outside again, but the taxi drivers were already gone. There I was, standing alone in the middle of a larger network of labyrinths, unable to locate my way out. It's quiet.

Too quiet.