Washington Blvd, Los Angeles - Going westward
I don't want to leave. Ever.
What other state boasts such beauty in December?
And yet, a bare one week remains until the day I must leave my beautiful hometown for the dreary city of Philadelphia. When will I be back to enjoy this sunshine, the beach, the beautiful people? - two weeks in the summer, perhaps. Maybe for a longer period, granted that destiny allows me more time before facing my ultimate dread of growing up.
Should I take a research opportunity over the summer, which would involve my staying at Penn for virtually all of vacation but further my chances at Grad School? Or should I take a risk, look for an internship in LA, perhaps go the PR route, perhaps research in the remaining two summers (after this one) while resting at home for this one?
And the question that comes up over and over again in my mind creeps up in my conscience once more: why did I go so far away from home? Berkeley had accepted me with wholeheartedness, granting me the Regents scholarship that would have kept me near home and perhaps have given me more research options.
Oh, the sparkling title of graduating from an Ivy League school had completely tempted me. As if graduating from Penn would stamp my resume in glittering, gold letters: IVY LEAGUE. But now I know that it is really not quite that simple.
Now that I am beginning to stress and worry over my prospects at Graduate School, I wonder if attending Penn would be more detrimental than had I attended a less prestigious school elsewhere.
But no. Speaking with a distant Penn friend today, I realized that my mere three semesters at Penn (oh my I am but only 3/8 done) have taught me so much about surviving in the East Coast, away from the friendly people of Los Angeles and the comforts of home. Not to mention that no matter what bitter feelings I might harbor against Penn, I cannot doubt that thus far, my professors have been absolutely amazing. What such passion they hold! They have taught me so much, and have fired up my goals and love for learning beyond my expectations.
(My professor from last semester has just emailed all of us stating that grades have been delayed due to a system failure in the last couple of days. OH DEVASTATION. I have been anxiously checking for my grades all throughout winter break, on Christmas Eve, on Christmas Day, throughout New Year's celebrations and up until now but yet I am still missing 3/5 grades!)
And in the midst of all these thoughts on my future goals and plans (or the lack thereof), yesterday night I watched a show with my parents where a group of Korean entertainers went to Africa in order to establish a well so that the inhabitants could have clean water. The level of calamity was beyond imagination - all of them, drinking terribly murky and polluted water, feeding it to their children while knowing that the damned water is the source of terrible diseases that took their own parents away at a premature age!
And here I am, moping and complaining about Grad schools, and not being able to be in LA, the fact that my Fall Semester grades are coming out late, blahblahblah. Caught in the "Penn Bubble", I think all of us just forget about the rest of the world. A part of me wants to forget EVERYTHING, let go of all my selfish desires and go to Africa and build some drinking wells.
But I know, life is never simple like that, and neither is humankind. What exactly is stopping me from doing so? Selfishness? But can it be called selfishness when I am just looking after my own good? Perhaps I can justify it by suggesting that after I get my thousand degrees (more like three - BA, MA, PhD) I would be able to help them in a more large-scale way. But does that mean that the lives that I could have - that all of us could have - saved in the meantime should be sacrificed for the greater good?
Mind you, it is 3:47am here on the West coast and I tend to drone on and on during the wee hours of the night. Sigh.
Twenty. 20. 스무살. No longer a teenager.
In exactly one month, I will no longer be a teenager.
When I was younger, I used to think that twenty-year-olds were REALLY adults. Like, adults who knew what they were doing. Adults who, although might not know exactly where they are going in life, have figured out everything there is to know about...well, themselves. But now I know that is not the case. And now I wonder if the elderly who seem so wise to us - the seventy-year-olds...if any of them know exactly what is happening to them, most of the time.
And by the end of all this contemplation, only one thing stands true: clearly, I need to pray more.
