RAYS OF SUNSHINE.

me with the stata sign in 2014 So, let's recap on where I was last on this blog: hopeful, going into my interview, which went incredibly well last Wednesday. Now, in the interim, my temp agency got me a short-term, data-entry gig at no other place than   MIT Admissions . me in 2010, pre-graduation from Burlington High School I feel like I am living in a sitcom right now. How can I portray HOW ridiculously full circle this opportunity was? My tenuous, pre-frosh connections to MIT include: my dance teacher who worked here for about 6 years her kids are alumni ( '10. '13 ) now, and were the accomplished family friends to whom my parents always looked to for inspiration and comparison signing up, and never making it to Splash! after CTY every summer… sorry, MIT!  MIT SAT prep classes performing/practicing at Kresge multiple times volunteering for MITHAS  OBSESSING over MIT blogs, especially Mollie  & Jess Kim  circa 2006-2008 h...

typography break while applying. lyrics from Weight of Living II by Bastille Self-reflection. It's something we as a people tend to save for later. Saved for the gaps in the rat race that is school and career. Saved for the comma in the sentence, the opportunity to breathe, granted once every few years. Saved for the pauses while we wait anxiously for life to press play again. As Cory mentioned, half-birthdays are a good point to reflect on the road you're on, as you keep on running, but what about those unintended stabs of self reflection we've all seen dozens of times? Those questions that probe on our common experiences as humans, but also make you think about your life journey and how you got to here. That's right, the friendly little password reminder! Since I am on the job hunt, I have been making account after account on different employer websites, and I am usually in such a hurry to just get on and submit the cover letter I spent the last hour perf...

You know that first-day-clean-slate-feeling every new school year as a kid? That feeling that no matter what is going to happen, you will have your friends, you will have lunch to look forward to, and new teachers and new adventures to be had during recess. The familiar routine, revived and renewed. I feel that when I see this empty page on my screen. Waiting for my thoughts. Waiting for my meandering views on whatever comes my way. I can't really explain the calm that envelopes me as I first dip my fingers in, checking the temperature of the water before diving deep. Deep into the terrifying abyss that sometimes is my mind. It feels so good to want to write again. These past few months, I had been feeling the absence of sense. That apathy is more crippling than anything. Instead of every sensory feeling translated into swarths of words, like birds that yearn for release, they beat against me like a rock-- I was unwavering, unrelenting. Paralyzed. Suddenly, I felt passive rath...

i love notebooks. too much. i love how they somehow whisper you can do better tomorrow. its a fresh new page. i love how you can rack em up to either tell a chronological story or an illogical one. the simultaneously represent all the tenses: have been, will be, am currently. i love straddling that line--telling stories that are not quite one way. i love melding my unique experiences and stories, marrying them with what could have been. where my expectations far surpassed my realities or where living in the moment far superseded anything in my wildest imaginings.  notebooks live in that moment before that moment. you buy them when you know you're going somewhere, starting something, making big plans. they encompass that crisp apple crunch on a fall day; that satisfying slurp of a milkshake while the sun bakes the back of your neck, sickly sweet, laughing next to the one of your dreams. they are the fulcrum of the balance between a spoon of maple walnut and that spicy chaider, ...