flashforward

I've wondered sometimes if I'm either incredibly pessimistic or borderline depressing. It's occurred to me many times since I left elementary school that there don't seem to be any points in my life where I consider myself happy. Technically, I'm going off the first definition I pull up from Google, which gives happiness as a "state of well-being characterized by emotions ranging from contentment to intense joy."

Now, I know I've had happy moments in my life. Getting my black belt in Tae Kwon Do. Going to Disneyland to celebrate a friend's 18th birthday. Hanging out with my small family in APO. Racing a good piece in dragonboat. However, these are all moments. I feel like a "state of well-being" should be more of a state of mind, or how you view yourself in an overall sense at any point in time. A feeling you have when you're just sitting at your desk, not doing anything particular engrossing, and you are able to think to yourself and figure out whether you're content with the way things are, or if you aren't.

Apparently, I'm never content with the way things are. I spend an inordinate amount of time thinking about things I want to do, wish I could do, wish I could be better at doing. I think about all the things I'd rather be doing that being stuck buried in engineering textbooks. I think about the people I'd like to spend time with but can't because of changing priorities, changing schedules, and sometimes changing relationships. It's never as simple as rearranging your priorities and managing your time so that you can do everything you want to do. 24 hours in a day is never enough for that, and it always seems like everything I have to do takes so goddamn long that there's really nothing left for what I want to do, aside from sleep.

I've never figured out how to finish things in a timely matter. I have to consider options. I have to agonize over choices. I can't make split decisions because it could be the wrong one. I don't live life to the fullest because I can't figure out what I want for my future, so spare moments are usually spent just stressing. You can label me a control freak all you want. You can try to tell me that it doesn't do any good. I can't help how my head thinks.

I did recently come to the conclusion that, like so many things, happiness is not given, but rather earned. It's just starting to get a little discouraging to realize how long that's going to take.

Put up or shut up.

Judging from the astoundingly bad decisions I make when I'm under pressure, I'm beginning to realize how phenomenally weak a person I am.

This Georgia Tech internship is a mixed blessing. It's taken me away from everything I've known for the past four years, but it's also keeping me from dwelling on the goodbyes, the "this is it" moments, and, in many respects, the end of the road for a lot of the relationships I've made. Bittersweet indeed.

When it comes to this team, Baby Long Beach might as well be called "Cal 2 Kickass Day." Every Baby Long Beach race I've been to seems to always be a really good day of racing for Cal 2. It's so inspiring to see paddlers racing their very first race and just killing it. There're not worried about rivalries or how well they'll stack up against the competition. They just go out there and do when they've always practiced to do, and it shows in the best way: racing well, looking good.

It's a little unfortunate that Baby Long Beach was structured the way it was this semester. They sacrificed 20-man races, especially consolation rounds, to do 10-man races, meaning that no team was guaranteed a final of some sort and some people on Cal 2 ended up with only three races on the day. After all the work that goes into the Spring semester before anyone gets a chance to race, it really seems like Cal 2 should have gotten a chance to race more, but I suppose there's no way we can control that.

Still, Cal 2 did extremely well on race day, and I applaud those who were thrown into some unusual situations, like drumming or being an emergency reserve on Cal 1. A significant segment of Cal 1 is built from people who knew nothing about dragonboat upon entering this team but who worked hard, came to practice, served time on Cal 2, and worked their way up. The passion starts from the thrill of racing, and realizing how much greater a thrill you could get if you practiced harder, raced faster, and beat more teams. I guess dragonboat is a bit like crack in that regard.

In spite of the relative scarcity of races, I hope everyone on Cal 2 had fun at Baby Long Beach. They got a taste of what a fully intense race day is like, and considering the mass graduation of seniors this year, I feel a lot of them will have a chance to make a move towards the top boat. I think it was quite telling that there wasn't a huge interest in handing out medals at the end of the day. Yes, everyone was busy dunking each other, and yes we wanted to get a move on back to Berkeley, but usually handing out the hardware is a reasonably big deal. I think a part of it stemmed from the fact that the results don't come close to showing what Cal 2 accomplished at the race. I don't konw if anyone on the team had ever seen a Cal 2 boat with timing that good or spirits so high. There wasn't much to be gained from handing out medals to Cal 1, or to the members of Cal 2 on the 10-man crews, when the day was really an accomplishment by the entire team.

So Cal 2, I give you props. You are the future of the team, and if what we've seen so far is any indication, the other teams in the dragonboat world won't know what hit them.

(Random thought dumpage time.)

Especially with the races I've had in the past year to year-and-a-half, I've gotten teary eyed at the end of the day, but this is the first time I've fully broke down. I was breaking down on the warmup for the last race, and I had to keep breathing and swallowing to keep up my composure. The semifinal put me in a really bad mood, because it was hot and I was thirsty and the race organizers were putting these heats way too close together. I lay down in the shade to rest while we waited for the final, and it was while lying there that I remembered that the final would be the last time I paddled in Long Beach. I may come back at some point, but if it's with Cal DB, it's probably to drum, and otherwise it'll be with some other team that I won't feel nearly as close to.

I don't really know what I felt at that time. I imagine part of me was energized to make this last heat worth something. A part of me probably didn't want to get on the boat because it meant paddling out to the end of a journey. All I know is that at some point Varun told me that the team was marshalling and gave me a hand up from where I was resting on the ground. Cheesily enough, there was a small part in the back of my mind that noticed how fitting it was that a member of Cal DB from way back in my history with the team should help me up towards my last heat, but I'll leave the corny moment at that.

Emotions were really running high for that heat. As soon as I saw how slowly ED was moving in getting his stuff together, I knew that he wasn't going to be paddling with us. Sam, Betty, and Zach did as well a job as they could keeping everyone together and bringing in the focus, but I was still struggling with my own thoughts, even as we started loading into the boat. I'm not sure if I needed reassurance or if I needed a silent outlet of what I was feeling when I just ran up and hugged Jen. I think she was surprised at first, but she understood almost immediately.

My memories of the time on the water are pretty disjointed. I remember breathing as controllably as I could. I remember thinking about who I wanted to paddle for. Cal 2. ED. Yohan. Yuan. Serena. Walex. Everyone who has ever been a part of my journey on this team. I remember feeling I screwed up a couple strokes on the ups in the start, but correcting myself as soon as I realized it. I remember my body protesting the exertion from the piece while my mind secretly hoped it would never end. I remember realizing immediately that the tears in my eyes afterwards were not about the result of the race. It was knowing that this was all coming to an end.

It was another cheesy, symmetrical moment when we got off the boat. In the past few races, I've usually gone up to hug people who break down and cry after the race is over, but this time I was the one that needed people to come to me. It's been such an incredible experience being a part of this team, and while I know there's still one more race this semester, and while I'm not officially leaving the team yet, the Long Beach races have always been some of the most emotional. Realizing that I was paddling my last one ended up hitting me really hard.

I don't know if I've gotten over all that, exactly, but it's not hitting me as hard as when actually being there. I don't expect myself to get as emotional at the Paragon-Point-except-not race, but I guess I'll see. Probably more thoughts later, but that's the biggest random thought that I needed to write.

Irony, you suck.

Who am I living with next semester?

Where am I living next semester?

What class will be open for me to take my last semester?

What will I be doing when I graduate at the end of this year?

When am I taking the GRE?

Where will I apply to grad school?

What am I going to do for grad school letters of recommendation?

Should I even go to grad school?

Will I be able to get a job this summer?

Where is my career going to end up?

How will I--*head explodes*

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Back to midterm studying.

Remember the days when your parents were always right and would always be on your side as you made your way through life?

Reality sucks.

Sometimes, I wish I knew how to get out of my own way.