Hello. My name is Molly.
As much as I would like to promise that I know infinitely more than I did when I wrote those words four years ago, I cannot make such a promise. I want to look back at the words I wrote four years ago and laugh at my childish terror. I want to think that I was so foolish to fear the future.
A quick recap of the past four years: I had times when I felt my absolute best and my absolute worst and I was surrounded by some of the closest friends I have ever made. I grew in ways that I had not imagined. Many of the times that seemed like complete catastrophes are difficult to remember now, and some of the simplest conversations are the most cherished memories. Yes, perhaps my entire college experience was some trite cliche, but that does not disvalue it. I hope that I will be able to reflect on it in more depth as the time passes, but I make no promises.
Despite having an amazing time at college, I cannot laugh at my fear, because I have found myself in another similar Void. I will begin graduate school at Princeton in the fall. I never imagined I would pursue a Ph.D. or go to school willingly for another six years, but here we are. The world feels again filled with a certain uncertainty. I hope that the past four years have better equipped me to deal with and manage the Void, but this has yet to be proven.
I have a lot of hope for the future, but I am aware of the fact that I may not always slow down enough to appreciate life and learn from it. I hope to slow down a little bit and do that here. Also, I hope to regain the ability to write again. Four years of engineering classes can kind of kill that.
Thursday, August 9, 2018
Saturday, July 5, 2014
I like acting geeky. Not geekier or nerdier than I am, but just how I am. I just described how much I like something as "Benedict Cumberbatch to the power of llama" after tweeting a very nerdy tweet about the thing I like. My friend responded in an "oh no..." way. I was thinking for a moment that I should apologize to my friend for acting so nerdy, but then I realized that I am nerdy. And she choose that. I think that is the best thing about not hiding who you are (within general "what is appropriate" guidelines). If my someone befriends me knowing that I am a nerd, I do not have to apologize for being one. The person chooses that and they can unchoose it too, but the choice is that person's. Very "take me or leave me", but I feel like the prospect of being left is still scary.
Monday, June 30, 2014
Young in America
Today I hopped in my car with my friend, Olivia, and we just drove. We live on Cape Cod and we left for Provincetown. We drove with all the windows down even though it was noisy because the AC was not working and neither of us complained
We drove to Provincetown, parked the car, and just walked. We walked up and down Main Street until the heat was too much and we decided that it was the type of weather that demanded a lunch of ice cream and the search for a shady spot. We went into the shops where we liked everything and could afford nothing, but we promised ourselves that we would come back one day and buy it all. We went into shops where we could afford things, but did not want to buy anything. We walked into stores with items like salt and pepper shakers, garden statues, and tiles that we would not purchase for years. We went into one store in which we spent most of our time in a trinket room sitting on the floor trying to befriend a cat. Olivia agreed to go into a library on a hill with me where the only things we were interested in checking out were the AC and the stairs in order to see how far up we could climb and how far over the harbor we could see. We walked down the middle of the street and almost were run over, and, after a few hours, we climbed back in my car and complained about all the tourists walking in the middle of the street and how they had left their minds at the bridge.
We drove on and we made a couple of three point turns and we tried to never use the GPS and we drove back. Every sign posed the question "Do we want to stop here?". We made a few wrong turns that never felt incorrect going to the North Truro Lighthouse. We decided that $4.00 was too expensive for climbing a lighthouse and we stood on the benches of the observation deck and debated jumping the railing to explore the cliff. We discussed the possibility of being out on the Atlantic we were looking at and looking back at the shore and seeing the curvature of the Earth. We almost photobombed two monks and then we were off.
We took a left off the main road to go to a beach on the national seashore and decided that we would only go if we could park for free. We wandered down a road that would never stop winding and, when we reached the beach, we stood at the edge of the waves and let the water numb our feet until they hurt too much. We admired the sky and wished everyone would stop talking so that we could just hear the ocean. We discussed how everything at Panera was good and Panera would make really good fries, but they would probably make them healthy or sweet potato fries.
After discovering our craving for sweet potato fries, we drove into town to look for some and hesitated in the doorway of a pub before deciding to try Orleans where we knew we could find some. As we drove, we contemplated what a long town Eastham was and how we had been driving through it forever. Olivia found a restaurant that served sweet potato fries and we arrived there for the latest lunch of just fries ever. We drank the same soda and she drew all the different foods you could make with potatoes while I brainstormed said foods. We ate until we were full of fries without ever once questioning how healthy they were.
We drove home exhausted from heat, salt air, and summer. We each wore one of my MIT sweatshirts and ventured from my house once more to watch the sunset. The day ended with pizza, YouTube, and just hanging out. We arrived home just as the Empty light went on.
The day was not perfect. We were unsure of what to do next sometimes and just "killing some time" sometimes. It was not wildly exciting. However, the day was Ours. We might have put on sunscreen too late or not planned ahead well enough, but it was our day to spend and decide. I like to think that this is what it means to be "Young in America" like Danielle Bradbury's song suggests. Today was good because it was free. Our mistakes and our successful decisions were our own to make. As Robert Frost suggests, "that has made all the difference".
We drove to Provincetown, parked the car, and just walked. We walked up and down Main Street until the heat was too much and we decided that it was the type of weather that demanded a lunch of ice cream and the search for a shady spot. We went into the shops where we liked everything and could afford nothing, but we promised ourselves that we would come back one day and buy it all. We went into shops where we could afford things, but did not want to buy anything. We walked into stores with items like salt and pepper shakers, garden statues, and tiles that we would not purchase for years. We went into one store in which we spent most of our time in a trinket room sitting on the floor trying to befriend a cat. Olivia agreed to go into a library on a hill with me where the only things we were interested in checking out were the AC and the stairs in order to see how far up we could climb and how far over the harbor we could see. We walked down the middle of the street and almost were run over, and, after a few hours, we climbed back in my car and complained about all the tourists walking in the middle of the street and how they had left their minds at the bridge.
We drove on and we made a couple of three point turns and we tried to never use the GPS and we drove back. Every sign posed the question "Do we want to stop here?". We made a few wrong turns that never felt incorrect going to the North Truro Lighthouse. We decided that $4.00 was too expensive for climbing a lighthouse and we stood on the benches of the observation deck and debated jumping the railing to explore the cliff. We discussed the possibility of being out on the Atlantic we were looking at and looking back at the shore and seeing the curvature of the Earth. We almost photobombed two monks and then we were off.
We took a left off the main road to go to a beach on the national seashore and decided that we would only go if we could park for free. We wandered down a road that would never stop winding and, when we reached the beach, we stood at the edge of the waves and let the water numb our feet until they hurt too much. We admired the sky and wished everyone would stop talking so that we could just hear the ocean. We discussed how everything at Panera was good and Panera would make really good fries, but they would probably make them healthy or sweet potato fries.
After discovering our craving for sweet potato fries, we drove into town to look for some and hesitated in the doorway of a pub before deciding to try Orleans where we knew we could find some. As we drove, we contemplated what a long town Eastham was and how we had been driving through it forever. Olivia found a restaurant that served sweet potato fries and we arrived there for the latest lunch of just fries ever. We drank the same soda and she drew all the different foods you could make with potatoes while I brainstormed said foods. We ate until we were full of fries without ever once questioning how healthy they were.
We drove home exhausted from heat, salt air, and summer. We each wore one of my MIT sweatshirts and ventured from my house once more to watch the sunset. The day ended with pizza, YouTube, and just hanging out. We arrived home just as the Empty light went on.
The day was not perfect. We were unsure of what to do next sometimes and just "killing some time" sometimes. It was not wildly exciting. However, the day was Ours. We might have put on sunscreen too late or not planned ahead well enough, but it was our day to spend and decide. I like to think that this is what it means to be "Young in America" like Danielle Bradbury's song suggests. Today was good because it was free. Our mistakes and our successful decisions were our own to make. As Robert Frost suggests, "that has made all the difference".
Wednesday, June 11, 2014
Sea of Words
Hello. My name is Molly. I know just about that much.
The one other thing I know about is the sea. I know that the sea is beautiful, powerful, and something I will never understand. I also prefer the word "ocean", but E.E. Cummings liked the word sea and he has more authority on the subject of language than I do. Regardless, the sea has this magical power that allows you to feel perfectly alone and also undeniably connected with the world. E.E. Cummings said in "Maggie and Milly and Molly and May" that "For whatever we lose (like a you or a me) / it's always ourselves we find in the sea". I do not believe in finding yourself, but I believe in creating yourself. I suppose that, in order you to create yourself, you have to figure out what you want to create. One could definitely find this plan in the sea, because being out on the water gives you such an incredible and unique perspective. Maybe I am alone in this feeling, but I doubt so because there are billions of people in the world. However, maybe you think I am being an overdramatic 18-year-old who is trying to make her little experiences with the sea into some larger, more poetic reflection on humanity in an effort to be different. You might be right, but, after my 18 years of living in a place stuck out into the sea surrounded by water on three sides, I truly believe that the sea has helped me find out where I am going.
Where I am going in away from the sea. I am going to college (MIT). I am going to a city (Cambridge). I am terrified and I have about two more months of sitting around waiting in The Void. "The Void" is a term this lecturer who visits my school told the seniors about and it is supposed to describe the summer before college. For the record, calling something The Void in no way diminishes the any feelings of terror about the future that may already be present. Therefore, I am going to fill The Void with words. A sea of words.
That is the purpose of this blog. I love sitting on the bow of a sailboat going across the water and gathering my thoughts. I will probably have opportunities to do this at MIT, but I need a backup sea. I need something I can go to and sort through my thoughts without the requirement of wind and salt air. I cannot promise to always use the correct or elegant words. I cannot promise to construct beautiful sentences. All I can try to do is navigate my way through the letters and punctuation that make up the sea of words and find a you or a me.
The one other thing I know about is the sea. I know that the sea is beautiful, powerful, and something I will never understand. I also prefer the word "ocean", but E.E. Cummings liked the word sea and he has more authority on the subject of language than I do. Regardless, the sea has this magical power that allows you to feel perfectly alone and also undeniably connected with the world. E.E. Cummings said in "Maggie and Milly and Molly and May" that "For whatever we lose (like a you or a me) / it's always ourselves we find in the sea". I do not believe in finding yourself, but I believe in creating yourself. I suppose that, in order you to create yourself, you have to figure out what you want to create. One could definitely find this plan in the sea, because being out on the water gives you such an incredible and unique perspective. Maybe I am alone in this feeling, but I doubt so because there are billions of people in the world. However, maybe you think I am being an overdramatic 18-year-old who is trying to make her little experiences with the sea into some larger, more poetic reflection on humanity in an effort to be different. You might be right, but, after my 18 years of living in a place stuck out into the sea surrounded by water on three sides, I truly believe that the sea has helped me find out where I am going.
Where I am going in away from the sea. I am going to college (MIT). I am going to a city (Cambridge). I am terrified and I have about two more months of sitting around waiting in The Void. "The Void" is a term this lecturer who visits my school told the seniors about and it is supposed to describe the summer before college. For the record, calling something The Void in no way diminishes the any feelings of terror about the future that may already be present. Therefore, I am going to fill The Void with words. A sea of words.
That is the purpose of this blog. I love sitting on the bow of a sailboat going across the water and gathering my thoughts. I will probably have opportunities to do this at MIT, but I need a backup sea. I need something I can go to and sort through my thoughts without the requirement of wind and salt air. I cannot promise to always use the correct or elegant words. I cannot promise to construct beautiful sentences. All I can try to do is navigate my way through the letters and punctuation that make up the sea of words and find a you or a me.
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