Sunday, July 10, 2016

Days of Summer Backlog >> 6/11/16

a.     Saturday: Commencement.
                                                 i.     Wake early, clean dishes, start scrubbing surfaces. Xin’s family shows up and they start packing; then my family arrives. Chaos reigns for a while but by noon we are done. My folks and I take a walk, then get some pizza at Delphino’s. Then we drop me off at Husky Stadium.
                                               ii.     I mostly sit and read after our quick rehearsal. I don’t know if it’s just the end of the school year, or if it’s the breakup with Alex, but I’ve been feeling more withdrawn and less extroverted. Questioning whether each conversation is worth its time and effort. I definitely started wearing my headphones more after the breakup—in fact, this was probably the most noticeable symptom. The most internally noticeable symptom was that I started paying much more attention to the lyrics of pop songs, about half of which are about breakups. They now evoked emotion in me, when before I had just laughed at the clever rhymes.
                                              iii.     Go out and perform, then run out to the street and jump in the car back to Bham.
                                              iv.     Eat some Top Pot donuts (not that good!) on the way back and talk with folks. They agree that I seem less sure of myself than I did at the end of last year. A little bit more viscerally aware of the complicated and imperfect nature of social relations—the experience of things is much different than the gamified-feeling experience of reading stories about things. I think the feeling should be transient, probably just related to events at the end of the year. I struggled socially most of last year, but then figured stuff out Spring quarter, so that when I came out of school I felt self-assured. Here I’ve been figuring stuff out all year, and just at the end have I had overmuch reason to deliberate and doubt. But the effect of this deliberation is striking. I’m forced to reexamine optimistic philosophies and attitudes towards people that I’ve hoped for but never quite believed all year.
                                               v.     This introspection is exacerbated by and intertwined with my dad’s probably correct theory that academics aren’t generally driven by curiosity. In physics, I’ve noticed more genuine curiosity than in any other field. But even there, I see shades of an attitude prevalent in math. The motivation comes from the challenge unique to fields like math and physics, the contrast between the boring and unchallenging nature of introductory classes in, say, accounting, and the intensity and density of my 33x series or Physics Honors series. Forget the actual material, forget the application—the motivation comes simply from the difficulty and the self-esteem that comes with facing off a challenge.
                                              vi.     This idea bothers me since I’ve always been primarily motivated by curiosity and by the promise of neat application of my knowledge (at the least, I’ve wanted to be thusly motivated). And I’ve always wanted to be surrounded by similarly motivated people.
                                            vii.     Anyway, enough about the rug being swept from my eyes and out from under my feet! I’ll regain my balance and some form of educated blindness soon enough.

                                           viii.     On my arrival home, Secret licked the bejeezus out of my face, my sisters greeted me; I did some boffering with Z before the family dinner. We watched anime and hit the hay.

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