I have purposefully prolonged making a public announcement on my return to Duke until now. Why now? Because I have just been attacked by a dozen questions of why I’m back at Duke, if London really sucked that much, and if I’m visiting. And I’ve given the same answers over and over again: London was great, LSE was good but Duke was better, and no I’m not visiting, I’m here to stay. Part of me wish that things could just be like they used to be, that I could just be like everyone else, coming back from a three week winter break, and not someone who’s stil suppose to be in London. The other part just wants to go quietly unnoticed and enjoy Duke on my own terms, not having to surprise people that knew me or be surprised by the people that I thought knew me but failed to notice me. I don’t want to offer the same explanation again and again, only to satisfy people’s curiosity, though few actually give a damn. 

The campus has never felt so big or cloistered. It feels big for a campus because LSE was a claustrophobic cluster of buildings plopped in the middle of London, but it feels small because suddenly my world is no longer the entire city of London, but just this sprawling neo-gothic immitation campus protected by a thick forest. But I like being back, even if I feel like people always do when they have left for a while and then returned to what used to be familiar but no longer. Going down the elevator in Keohane, I forgot that the ground exit was on 2nd and not 1st, while also noticing the glaring absence of a ground floor. I don’t feel like a new student, nor as do I feel as I did before I left. I still know my way around, mostly (not central though). I feel happier than ever that I’m a dukie, but I don’t quite feel like every other dukie. Like they say, the place feels different, but that’s only because I’m different. (Although they have wireless for dorms now, and I have the evidence smacked in the middle of my room.)

Classes feel a bit intimidating, but I really have little choice in the matter. Have sacrificed a semester, there’s not much I can do but to limit my choices to the two dept. of econ and phil. Unfortunately, there aren’t many interesting, easy, classes that I haven’t already taken offered this semester. Oh well. At least they are interesting, and doable, though time consuming. My room is big, as I expected, but it also feel slike a jail cell (I kid you not). I’ve finally put up all my posters, but as Rui said, it’s still a jail cell, but a prettier jail cell. I’ll take that as a consolation. I keep telling myself it just need a bit more time to look more “lived-in”. And a single is still a single.

My inbox has already been filling up quickly, and I’ve already put half a dozen events on my calendar for the next two weeks. Oh the life of a Dukie.

In three days I will be back at Duke, ending the longest break I’ve taken from the blue devil land. For the first time, I have truly missed Duke. In many ways, I’m glad I had left it long enough to miss it so much. If it was not for England, I would not have realized how much I love Duke until 2010 fall, and by then it will be too late. At least now, I can still come back, for 1.5 more years. Life goes by too fast, and I take too many things (important things) and people for granted, thank goodness for the reminders.

These three weeks have been amazing. There was not a single extraordinary event, but rather a series of lovely gatherings, many pieces of smiling memories, dozens of mochas, and countless games of bridge. From the first Sunday when I saw Anne running towards my apartment with open arms, quite literally I kid you not, to watching iron chef at Jordan’s place, this winter break has been everything I could have ever asked for. I always hear people in college telling me how bored they get at home and I always smile inside thinking of the wonderful group of friends I have here in Cleveland. Sure, college has changed all of us, has changed the dynamic within our group, but we are all still friends, some a bit closer, some not so much, but what I love is that we can all still talk to one other, hang out together with so much ease. So despite the better clothes we wear, the respective college pride in college sports (ranging from lukewarm to hardcore), and only seeing each other two seasons out of four, we are still friends. We have all grown up a bit, though in half a dozen different cities and campuses across the eastern half of US (strange none of us ended up on West coast, though that will change this semester) and sometimes even on other continents, we have somehow managed to stay in touch and not fall apart through blogs, emails, phone calls, skype, and semi-annual parties. 

So let me recount the past three weeks…

Bridging at my house, bridging at Anne’s, poker games bettting on coffee and movie tickets, five-course dinner at rui’s that turned into three course that started with a chaos but ended beautifully and the strange french movie collage thing, many shopping trips, commuting between beachwood, cleveland and solon, yingrui’s party and failing at pool miserably, massive picture taking, bowling at solon, movies at Shaker square, eating at Panera’s, inevitable trips to Border’s, Kings at Anne’s, GETTING WAY LOST IN THE GHETTOS OF CLEVELAND AND SCARED OUT OF OUR MINDS, epicly failing at finding a college night in a club, freezing our butts off when the temperature droped to the teens, going to the special exhibition of fabrege, tiffany, and lalique at Cleveland Art Museum, snow fight b/t anne and han afterward and losing feelings in our feet, nose, hands, and suffering from near hypo-thermia, frantically looking for wine glasses and making the new year’s toast 1 minute late drinking Wu Liang Ye because we failed at getting champagne and we are chinese, watching world poker tournament, mtv’s richest cribs, and iron chef at Jordan’s and everyone ending up being hungry for red snappers. 

and now I’m sitting here in my room, with a rare sun peaking through the clouds and beaming through my blinds. Surprisingly, this is the first time I’ve had an extended period of alone time since I’ve been back. As much as I love to be in the company of my friends and Han, sometimes I just want to be alone and let my mind wonder on its own, uninterrupted by another soul. I think that’s one thing I have missed in this break, the time to be alone and reflective. One of the saddest things about going to college is the loss of my habbit of reading novels. I remember senior year I used to sit in my office and just read for hours while listening to music. I miss that kind of absorption, I miss the ability to enter so completely into another world and abandone this one, if only for a few hours. Now the break is almost over, I have to start ordering textbooks again and try not to worry about moving in, somehow getting all my stuff from a friend’s house in DC, and getting off those waitlists. 

Having completed half of my college career, I’ve finally come to realize there is no point in stressing out about things or worrying about them. Yes, there are always lots of lots of things to be done. If you want, the stress level can shoot through the roof every week, but it’s also quite manageable. After taking classes from more than half a dozen departments and having gotten three different letters of grades, I have finally learned (I hope) how to balance my interests, ambitions, and the university requirements. So I’m looking forward to making the most out of my remaining years at Duke and having a great time. There will be LSAT classes, lots of reading, writing, more summer plans searching, meetings, and the occasional complaing and whining, but it will be all good, because beyond them, there are the free (or almost free) movies, friends, outings, southpoint, weekends, waduke, and parties 🙂 

So here’s to an awesome break, my imminent return to Duke, and an awesome new year! Cheers.

New Year’s Resolutions: Maximum achievements, minimum stress. Maximum enjoyment, minimum worries.

I never quite understood why most famous sites gather tourists from all around the world year-round, while many people living in the area have never bothered to visit it. That is, until I was in London. I was a faithful tourist who did all the touristy things like visiting Westminster Abby and The Tower, following tour guides while snapping away with my camera. By the third week, I was thoroughly sick of site-seeing, so I started bridging and fell more and more in love with the comfort of my room and afternoon/weekend naps. It was only during my last two weeks in London did I suddently realize I still had not seen much of the city and there were still half a dozen places that I wanted to go. Being the procrastinator, I should not have been surprised. The last week was divided between last-minute sight-seeing and spending as much time as possible with friends that I would soon be leaving. I felt like some kind of terminally-ill patient, not ready to leave or say her goodbyes.

All in all, my last days in London were the best they could have been: trips to Kensington, National Galleries, Picadilly Circus, and the nights spent trying to work but mostly talking, karaoke, latenight snack at Chinatown, and sipping cocktails in Detroit bar (not the American city). My last night in london was spent with all my best friends in London. There was a hotpot, during which everyone had more than enough to eat. Afterwards, Sinyee, Hong King, Chloe and Zoey helped me pack for the entire night. It was fun and wonderful. We all crashed afterwards in my room for two hours before getting up, cleaning out my room, and heading to Heathrow. The train ride passed all too soon and we were at Terminal 4 before we knew it. There we stood as I searched my mind for some words of farewell to Zoey, but everything that came out of my mouth just sounded inadaquate and trite. Never before had I had a teary goodbye, so I was quite at a loss as I gingerly put my arms around Zoey, trying my best to console her. When she left with the train, it almost seemed like she was the one we were sending off, not me.

Checking in was a nightmare, or rather, between queueing for check-in and boarding was a nightmare. The line for check-in was long as usual (it happens everytime I’m flying back to the the US), but I wasn’t particularly worried. It meant I had more time to say goodbye to my friends, or i thought. It turned out that only passengers could stay in the queue. Half way through the queue, I was booted to the front because we were less than an hour away from when the plane is suppose to depart. But then check-in took absurdly long time because they couldn’t locate a seat for me. By the time I had my boarding pass, the plane had already started boarding. So my friends and I sprinted to the security gate and I waved a hasty farewell as they watched me run towards the security. All through security, I was worried about missing my flight. By the time I got myself to the gate, which was fotunately not too far from the secutiy point, I realized I had left my carry-on luggage at the security. So I ran back to security, grabbed my luggage, and ran back to the gate…only to be told my luggage will have to be searched because I left it unattended. Fortunately, I got on the plane in one piece, albeit my suitcase was in a mess after the guards threw everything out and then back in….

The trip back was relatively painless. I passed out half the time on the plane and spent the other half gazing at ice sheets from the window, reading notes from friends, and watching The Notebook. I spent the 4 hours layover in Mineappolis calling friends and dad and burned through half of my phone’s battery. By the time I got home, it was almost 11pm, but oh I was so happy to see my room again. It was wonderful. The very next day began the slew of hanging out with friends, bringing bridge back to the States, and general holisday goodness.

I keep wondering what is so different from the people I hang out with here and the environment that I’ve been in for the last ten weeks and Duke and all its wonderful people. Aside from the material differences, the largest would be the difference in sophistication, innocence, and jadedness, all of which are more of less the same. Not once has our dinner conversations been about the stress of academics (not that others aren’t stressed here, they just don’t talk about it). Not once have I heard the incessant talk of summer internships and whatnot. 

All in all, my friends and I don’t really talk about school, or career (not in the way Dukies do, at least). Our conversations are usually quite random, ranging from philosophical to down right absurd and silly. But almost always, we manage to find something we can all laugh about. It’s a good humoured, relaxing experience. I will miss that. 

And you know, we don’t have to do this at Duke. We don’t have to talk about the tests we took earlier today, or the papers due tomorrow, or the countless meetings we must attend, or the internship prospects for this summer. Just because we live on campus and our lives are so inexorably intertwined with school, it doesn’t mean school and academics and the horrible stress must creep into every aspect of our lives, especially at meal times. 

And there’s no obsession with lable, with societal approval, with beating the curve, with names. This is the part that I’ve  never liked about Duke, or even while I was in Solon. I’m fully aware of being affected by all of this myself. I don’t deny that during my college-search process, name and prestige always mattered above everything else. Even today, I still cannot be absolutely nonchalant towards the labels and names that are suppose to mean something, suppose to elevate its bearers above the rest. 

I urge my friends to read the Financial Times, to apply to all the first-year financial programs, to enter the competitions offered by the top banks. In essense, I’ve been telling them to do all the things a typical Dukie does. Yes, they are necessary. Yes, it’s practical. But must these “practical” and “necessary” measures we take consume the rest of our lives? 

In the end, we come back to the familiar problem of balancing. There should be a separation of work and personal life. Maybe that is the largest benefit of living 30min away from school. maybe the actual distance helps us put a mental distance between the two?

I have no idea if any of this made much sense.