La coule de la Seine

So in French class nowadays, we’re listening to a musical adaptation of poet Guillame Apollinaire’s “Le Pont Mirabeau.” It’s a poem told by a sad, post-break-up Apollinaire, looking down over the Mirabeau Bridge as he watches the flowing water of the Seine, like time, pass by. Its sadness aside, the characterization of the scene brought me back to a trip to Europe a couple years ago.

James, Partha, and I—along with seventeen other AP European History alumni and three teacher chaperones—had the chance to go on a Seine river cruise one evening during our brief stay in Paris. At least a hundred others—mostly tourists—were also packed onto the broad, flat ferry. We meandered down some length of the Seine, made a u-turn, and by the time we got back, it was night enough for la Tour Eiffel to be lit brilliantly against black.

I’m pretty sure we passed under the Pont Mirabeau—the Mirabeau bridge—at some point. So anyway, thanks, Monsieur Apollinaire, for the nostalgia.

Dear My Future Self,

Hey, hi, how’s it goin’.

How’s adulthood treating you? I’m just getting started, actually. In case you ever forget, today was your golden birthday. You have a policy paper to write, a science fair poster to build, and a math test to study for, but today was your eighteenth birthday.

Man, time flies.

Remember when you would walk over to Mark’s house every morning to play Super Mario World? Or go on bike rides around the lake? Do you remember when you used to draw comics in elementary school? The HomeBase fieldtrips? The overnight zoo trip in fourth grade? The overnight Duluth trip in fifth grade? Remember your skateboarding phase? Hah.

Hey, remember El Cheapo? The UMTYMP carpool? Dr. Hanson’s dimly-lit classroom? Arsalan’s corner? Mr. Jones’ impressive spectrum of Jones Sodas? Your guitars? Oh, also, never forget the countless hours you devoted to Yu-Gi-Oh! and—especially—Pokémon. And never regret them either.

Remember when you didn’t have to shave or drive or pull all-nighters or pay taxes or—well of course you do. Sorry.

If you were or are still in college, where’d you end up? How does the future look? If good, don’t forget to thank the people that got you there. Including me. And don’t waste any opportunities. Stay curious.

On the behalf of Your Childhood, stay enthusiastic about knowledge, writing, art—everything that you do and pursue.

Love,
You

My 18th year, in review

I’m a year older and two un-removed wisdom teeth wiser. Year number eighteen was fast-paced, enlightening, actualizing. I continued to form my identity, refine myself as an artist, a writer, a student, a scientist, and, above all, as a person. I strengthened existing bonds and formed new ones; I envisioned the future and pursued it; I survived all-nighters and befriended coffee.

Science in poster form.

Last February 18th, I was a junior in high school. And like I am again now, I was getting ready for the Twin Cities Regional Science Fair, putting the final touches on my first-ever research paper. My experiment at MTRF was wrapping up and I was eager to present my long-worked-for results. The TCRSF went well; I ended up moving onto the Minnesota State Science and Engineering Fair the following month, in March. I was more than happy with my performance but more so with the experience I’d gained, presenting alongside rolemodels and fellow scientists. Awards were really just the cherries on top. I’m glad I’m going back this year.

Somewhere betwixt and between, I got my license.

The GMO alliance

During the spring break of ’11, I got the opportunity to represent Haiti in Minnesota’s Model United Nations. After getting denied the chance to represent Japan due to availability (lack thereof), I ended up learning more from the post-earthquake Haiti than I had ever imagined. The experience was eye-opening; I evolved into a more impassioned global citizen. And made fast friends.

I marched through AP US History, derived through AP Calculus, Punnet Squared through Genetics, nomenclatured through AP and Organic Chemistry, and conjugated through French. A strenuous but rewarding junior year was gradually coming to close. AP exam season was successfully slain. And then prom.

Junior year ended with a sayonara to our seniors.

June began like the one before it: I taught swimming lessons. Summer weekends were dominated by graduation parties and summer weekdays were spent in the lab. I YouTubed a lot, refreshed my music library, and embarrassed myself playing StarCraft with friends.

Team Phys-X

Roadtrippin’ to Chicago in July, I attended an Honors Physics course at Northwestern University’s Center for Talent Development. Too many amazing people, best friends, mischief, and momentum  to summarize in a paragraph. So here are the Campus Chronicles for the rare chance that you’re interested.

I blogged a lot in my spare time.

Summer ended and the notorious College Application Process began and I am now seventeen applications stronger. I didn’t get rejected from my dream school. I’ll post my essays sometime. Probably after I get accepted somewhere. Only then will I know that the essays were actually effective. (And by effective, I mean worth reading.)

Senior year began, the final frontier.

And here we are. My golden birthday.

This is the last blog post of my legal childhood.

See also: My 17th year, in review

Clear skies

Sometimes I think about the future. And what usually appears in my mind during such times is a clear sky, cloudless. Blue, boundless. Open.

I associate things to ideas and ideas to things. It’s odd and I can’t really definitively describe it but in my mind the future is a sky. There’s no metaphor, really. It’s not that “the sky’s the limit” or something. It’s just that, simply, stupidly, the future is clear, is a sky.

My dentist tells me that, apparently, my wisdom teeth will never grow in. Go figure.

Make of it what you will. Laugh if you dare.

Either way, because they’ll never actually emerge from my gums, I have to get them surgically excavated. If I decided to leave ‘em in, they’d (supposedly) become cancerous and cause even more pain. So surgery it is.

I’ve only had one other surgery in my life: a tonsillectomy back in 7th? 6th grade?
Pretty sure it was 7th.

Anesthesia is interesting. When you wake up after a dose, it feels like no time has passed. In fact, I was told that the most common question in the recovery room after surgery is, “So, when are you guys gonna do [insert your favorite surgical operation]?” to which the nurse responds ten times out of ten, “We already have.” I would’ve asked while I was in there too, but the post-tonsillectomy-throat-pain told me that the deed had already been done. Moreover, I couldn’t talk.

So ice cream and mashies were a plus. Missing school was also a luxury—back in middle school when missing school wasn’t fatal to the grade. And I even got a new GameBoy game as a get-well-soon present from my parents. Recovery life is the good life.

Anyway, surgery #2 is coming up (eventually) and I felt like writing. This is the result. Thanks. I’m out.

The art of the 15-minute nap

It’s an art that I’ve tried my hand at several times but ultimately one I’ll never master.

So I’m well into the second half of my senior year in high school and as such, I’ve been less hesitant to prioritize sleep over homework. If I could “just close my eyes for 15 minutes” and still feel rested, I would. But y’know.

With the Twin Cities Regional Science Fair approaching, however, there’ll be less tolerance for napping as the busyness levels increase. I have documents to print, forms to fill, a presentation to plan, and a poster to build. Chop chop.

In the midst of what are becoming busier and busier weeks, my golden birthday’s coming up too, which is also my 18th, which is also the threshold of adulthood, which is also taking place during a long weekend. The distraction could not have come at a worse time. But hey, 18! Cue fanfare!

That’s all.