Adaptation

I've lived in Boston for over a year and a half now. A year ago, I was very doubtful that I would still be here now. Things weren't going so well and I was almost ready to give up, go home, and try again. Several things kept me here, however. The foremost was my lease. Then there were some friends I didn't want to leave. And finally, there was that little voice inside that told me I'd never forgive myself if I didn't give this place a fair shot.

Life in Boston improved greatly over the next several months, and by the first of the year, I was loving it here (even the snow). I thought I had everything figured out:

-Winter's best handled with the right wardrobe and frequent trips to cabins tucked under Vermont mountainsides.

-It is best to allow Massachusetters, or whatever you call them, to revel in being "Massholes", especially when it comes to driving - it's not a battle worth fighting - you just have to grow your own tough skin and run a few red lights, too.

-Summers are not hot and not humid. Massachutans will disagree with you on this point. Just stand firm on this one and tell them they are wrong.

-On the other hand, 30 degrees is a heat wave in the middle of January. If it doesn't feel like it is, you might want to reconsider living in Mass.

-If you root for anyone but the Patriots, watch NFL games in the privacy of your own home. This also applies to the Celts, Sox, and Bruins. If you don't like sports at all, you might want to start.

-Cities in Mass have backassward pronunciations. Just learn them and don't fight it. To start with, "Worcester" has two syllables.

-It takes about 2 hours to drive from one end of this state to the other. It is small.

-It takes about 45 minutes to drive out north or south out of this state. It is small.

-Beer and movie tickets are expensive. Get over it or don't go out in the city.

-The T stops running at 12:30am. It sucks, but it's true. Get used to taking cabs...or walking a lot.

-New England hot dog rolls are better than normal ones. It's just true.

-New York City is 4 hours away by bus. Take advantage.

-You will have to go on an expedition if you get a craving for Taco Bell. There are none inside Boston's city limits. So if you're driving outside the city and happen by one, eat there.

-Massachusetters are like the French. They're hard on the inside and harder on the outside. But you can crack through that outer shell if you consistently spend time with them (or spend money at their establishments).

-Summer weekends are best spent on or near The Cape (known as "Cape Cod" to everyone else in the country). Bostonians leave Boston by the droves on Friday afternoons and return in the same fashion on Sunday evenings. Beat them or join them...but either way, do what they do. They know what they're doing.

So in any case, I had things all figured out. And then I decided to move, got a job, and decided to become a resident of the great state of Massachusetts. I've realized over the past several months that, shockingly, I didn't have it all figured out. It took me fully 10 months to land a job here. My roommate and I lost our favorite apartment because we didn't jump on it THE DAY we saw it. It took me $243, three trips to the DMV, a number of calls with AllState, an endeavor out to the concrete-laden City Hall, and an overnight FedEx package to license myself, register my car, and obtain a parking permit. Then it cost me another $133 to get her out of the tow lot the next Monday. It will cost me another $40 when I pay the ticket which so kindly greeted me when I reached her, dusty and downtrodden, in the lot. Instead of parking in my valet garage, I have to search for a place on the street - and have already gotten yelled at for "stealing" people's spots. It took a half-day visit from Verizon and 3 separate visits from DirecTV to set up our connections to the outside world. I have to pay a cab fare to come home from my favorite bar now, when I used to stumble the 5 minutes home. I have to ride a bus to get to the ducks in the Public Garden or in winter, the ice on the frog pond in Boston Common.

Things change, and they usually change in packs. My life is anything but horrible now - the job was a necessity and will serve me well on my way to PA school - the apartment is huge and comfortable and really not so inconvenient to the city - many of my friends moved to Southie right alongside me - the beach is close by. I still "get it" here much better than I did when I first moved here. But Southie is a new beast, governed by a new set of rules, and it's my job to learn them all over again - the streets to avoid, the restaurants to frequent, the side of the street NOT being cleaned this Monday... I'll learn the rules and this place will feel like home just like the last one did, and life before this will fade into a faint memory. I guess that's what they call "adapting," and it seems to me like it's one of the most crucial skills we need to survive. Eat your heart out, Charles Darwin.

The Boston Buffet

I haven't written in a while because, frankly, I really haven't needed to. Writing tends to be my catharsis, and I haven't needed one over the past month and a half or so. In fact, I don't really need one now, but I feel guilty for having neglected my blog for so long!

First and foremost, I'm better. I can safely, 100%, without a doubt scream that I am better. I could say it's because of my wonderful friends, the fabulousness of the Harvard Extension School, or my newfound deep and abiding love for skiing...but if the past year has taught me anything, it's that things are the other way around. I adore my friends, somewhat creepily love my classes, and have discovered a passion for my new favorite sport because of what has been going on inside of me. It is I who input the world into my brain and compute an output. And that can only result in a great output now that my brain is functioning in a way that is handling the input correctly..."correctly" meaning the way I was born to handle it, the way I've always handled it in health. That said, my friends ARE amazing, Harvard's definitely the Duke of the North, and skiing has rocked my socks off. Credit where it's due, for sure.

So on to those three aspects that are so central to my life now. (It's so awesome that they are now central instead of trying to get rid of "it"...the disease.) Finally becoming able to branch out in Boston has only made my recovery that much more rewarding. I always had my best friend here, but the poor guy has been through so many screwed up versions of me and handled so many crises that I always knew he needed some breaks. To be fair, no one can healthily spend all of their time with one other person. None of us are THAT interesting, that dynamic, that patient on a regular basis. And so it is that I've finally found some more friends. So now I have my best friend, and I have a solid group of other people with whom I'm quickly falling in love as well, who bring out parts of me that I've desperately missed in my illness. Being surrounded by good people is about 95% of the stuff of life in my opinion...between Indian after parties, outrageous themed house parties, ski trips, movie outings, bowling nights, and...oh...dinners at the best restaurants in Boston...I think I'm doing pretty well.

Then there's Haahhhhvahd. I never ever ever considered this place when I was 17 and contemplating my collegiate future. And never would I ever second-guess my decision to attend Duke. It was, is, and will ALWAYS be my home, and as the Latin implies, my nourishing mother. But Duke doesn't have a postbac program...and Durham had begun to feel a bit like a fish bowl. So now, Harvard. When I thought all hope was lost and I'd never get through the pre-health curriculum, there came Harvard and her Duke-like facilities, inspiring professors, friendly students...(and awesome food, by the way...) The fact that I can not only sit through a 3-hour chemistry lecture, but remain engaged through one...hell, even look forward to one...says something BIG. I couldn't sit through 50 minutes at that other institution I attempted to attend. The fact that I can ask questions because the answers will actually make sense, that I laugh with my partners through lab, that I honestly can't wait to get to the next chapter and see what's going to happen - that's pretty amazing to me. I'm becoming a huge chemistry dork, and it's all Harvard's fault. Tonight, as I was walking from lab across campus to the T, listening to "Fireflies" on my iPod, I felt a lurch in my throat. It's the same feeling I get every time I spot Duke chapel for the first time again or stroll across West Campus on a gorgeous day. It doesn't mean Harvard's on par with Duke - my 4 years at Duke encompassed far too much for Harvard to ever come close. But it means I'm happy, and slightly enamored. Plus, the science center pizza really IS good.

And now to skiing. I haven't really gotten to participate in a sport since I graduated from high school. And if I have, I haven't been very good over the past several years, as my knees and my back have gone downhill and I've been terribly out of shape. Something is lost in my personality without a sport to play - it and school and friends were how I was shaped as a kid. So here comes skiing. The first few times, it was terrifying and difficult and oh so painful. But now I'm running blue trails and my soreness at the end of the day only extends to used muscles instead of bruises. I fly down green trails and savor the sound of the wind as it whips past my ears, the snow as my skis carve through it...at other times, I stop to take a look around at breathtaking scenery and breathe crisp, cold mountain air. My heart leaps into my throat at Mount Stratton's summit. I can't wait to ski down again. The loaded chili in a bread bowl is also really good at the end of the day...

Take all of that together, and I'm falling head over heels for my city. I get to take the red line 6 times a week across the Charles River. Again, I feel that tug in my chest every time the Hancock building appears on one side, the Zakim Bridge on the other...Boston's lights dancing on the river, frozen or flowing. "I'm so glad this is my city," I've thought so many times at that moment. Such a contrast from just a year ago. I'm eating it all up.

There's Little So Great in Life as Discovering a New Read...

In the throes of my still-fierce obsession with everything Haiti, I just ran across a comment on the AC360 blog (among the two dozen people jostling to adopt "Monley", the adorable kid rescued after 8 days under rubble) from someone who just finished reading "Dispatches From the Edge." I flew to Amazon.com to check things out - did Anderson Cooper really write a book? Indeed, he did, and I immediately began reading the first few pages that Amazon gifts as a preview. Cooper's book is a memoir, mostly about his time on the ground in Niger, New Orleans, Iraq, and post-tsunami Asia. But, from what I can tell in the first few pages, it's also part autobiography. I was hooked after the first few pages - Cooper's writing style resembles my own; he seems to write with a sweet honesty and absorbs the situation around him in a way with which I can intimately and acutely identify. I was hooked - but near the bottom of Page 15, I was floored. It's like Cooper took the words that I haven't been able to find and put them together precisely and perfectly:

"Sometimes I wonder if I'm the person I was born to be, if the life I've lived really is the one I was meant to, or if it is some half life, a mutation engineered by loss, cobbled together by the will to survive."

I think I've found a kindred spirit. I'll be downloading the rest of Cooper's book.

Coping with Sand Castles: More Thoughts on Haiti

The photo of the day - and maybe of the past week - is one of an 8-year-old Haitian boy emerging from the rubble, 8 days after the quake, arms outstretched in triumph and with a most gigantic smile on his face. He and his sister were both rescued alive, in relatively good condition, after 8 days without food and water. They're the biggest little miracles.

For every miracle that Haiti has seen over the past week, we all know there have been 1000 tragedies - probably quite literally. But the fact remains that there have been miracles, great and small, televised and not. TV and print journalists keep remarking on the resilience of the Haitian people - how they survive in wreckage, how they help each other, how they just sit and wait for a week for a bottle of water to show up. While Haitians certainly deserve tremendous praise and incite plenty of inspiration for living through what they have over the last week, I have to take issue with the growing theory that Haitians are somehow superhuman. Maybe this level of "resilience" isn't actually a good thing.

Maybe we should step back and think about WHY 99.9% of the city of Port-au-Prince is sitting patiently on its haunches - bleeding, famished, parched - waiting for relief. Maybe, just maybe, these people aren't simply of docile constitution. Maybe they don't know any better than to sit back and wait for help, or maybe, they're just used to the endless holding pattern of misery. They don't seem to be very assertive, and they certainly can't be blamed for their passivity considering Haiti's human rights history. Everyday life is certainly better than this, but not by leaps and bounds like it is in, say, the United States - or 191 other countries. These people ARE strong and they certainly do provide some lessons to those of us living in cushy comfort, but the roots of their strength are lamentable.

I've heard many talking heads say that Haiti may be the only country in the world that couldn't handle this. Such a statement bothers me for several reasons - the most obvious of which being how do we make that kind of call? No one is prepared to deal with something of this magnitude - the largest natural disaster in the history of the Western Hemisphere. This just isn't comparable to anything. But beyond that, I believe such a statement fails to recognize the learned resilience of the Haitian people. Their coping skills may make them more capable than anyone of handling such epic tragedy, even if their buildings crumble like sand castles.

The other emerging Haiti discussion I take issue with is that of journalistic ethics and objectivity. I'm no journalism major, so I can't claim any academic knowledge of the specifics of this stuff, but I find anyone arguing that Sanjay Gupta should not be treating patients to be entirely ludicrous. I don't care if his caring for people mars his ability to be perfectly objective. In fact, he and every other journalist are human, and I would be severely disturbed if any of them were able to be 100% objective when placed squarely in the middle of this nightmare scenario. Isn't it the job of viewers to make their own interpretations anyway? Any half-educated person knows to take the news media with a grain of salt. If Dr. Gupta can save lives while raising awareness of the dire medical need in Haiti, that's all the better. If Anderson Cooper finds himself in the middle of a riot and needs to move an injured boy to keep him from getting trampled to death, then I'm all for it. This isn't a war - it's a humanitarian crisis with real people suffering real tragedies. To stand by idly and report in a monotone would be the true crime, textbook ethics be damned.

In Haiti's Wake

This post might end up all over the place, but that's been the state of my mind for that past week as it tries to process everything that has been going on in Haiti.

People are still being pulled alive out of buildings. My God. I cannot imagine being trapped under rubble for a day, much less a week. One woman was singing today as she emerged from under the bank where she'd been trapped. Humans are truly miraculous creatures.

I was just watching a scene on CNN in which Haitian crowds were cheering, "USA! USA!" as LA County firefighters pulled yet another survivor from the rubble. I've been known to be rather critical of my country, especially when I go abroad and experience some of the wonders of other places. However, I'm not sure I've ever been so proud to be American as now. We may all live beyond our means and we certainly all have our individual vices, but Americans as a group are pretty good people. That our government pledged $100 million in aid without hesitation, that Larry King Live raised $9 million through a 5-hour TV campaign, that the Red Cross and Yele Haiti pulled in $10 million in text contributions in the first few days, that millions of Americans are scrambling to figure out if there's anything else they can do to help right now - it all points to a pretty fantastic populace. My opinions about people are usually cemented one way or another once I see how they behave in a crisis. If someone steps up to the plate, even if I was unsure about that person in the past, he earns my immediate and lasting respect. If they don't, well, the opposite occurs.

Of course, praising the United States does not preclude praise for others. Specifically, Israel and the Dominican Republic have gained tremendous respect in my eyes for their actions in the wake of the earthquake. Israel's currently running the first and only mobile operating room and providing emergent surgical care. The D.R., not the most wealthy of countries by any means, has given $4.4 million in direct financial aid, as well as innumerable and priceless contributions in service - from opening the Santo Domingo airport to relief aircraft to caring for injured Haitians brought across the border. In contrast, some countries should, in my opinion, be absolutely ashamed of themselves. China, in particular, should take a long look at itself. The world power has given a grand total of $1 million to Haiti - this matches the contributions of India (a comparable nation in terms of population, but certainly not economic stability), Brad Pitt, or the U.S. Government in putting 3 students through medical school. For shame.

Those claiming that the U.S. is taking advantage of the earthquake in order to "conquer" Haiti or that Obama is making political hay out of the situation don't even really deserve anyone's attention. I have news for these people - you can't "conquer" a country when you have its consent - when you're ASKED by that country for assistance. It would be entirely irresponsible for us to ignore Haiti in the wake of this disaster as we have for so many years. I cannot and do not want to imagine what would happen if we just let Haiti fend for itself in these times.

Finally, for now, I have to question the priorities that have been set by whoever it is that has been setting the priorities in Haiti. Security first, food and water second, healthcare third. EXCUSE ME?! Shouldn't these priorities be reversed? I can't understand, for the life of me, why three Docs Without Borders planes have been turned away from the runway at Port-au-Prince when people are still dying in the streets and doctors are without the supplies they need to save them. Is it not simple logic that you save people first, feed them second, and secure yourself later? I'm just dumbfounded.

Skiing Lessons

I think it was a conversation between my good friend Wesley and me that I first became conscious of the idea of "trying everything once." It was a part of Wes's philosophy on life that I wanted to adapt for myself. And so it was that I began to approach things a little differently. Within reason, I want to try as many things in life as I can. Stipulations involve omitting anything that has a substantial chance of killing me (because that's a little counterintuitive to the purpose...) and anything that involves injury to anybody else. Beyond that, for the most part, let's go.

Now that doesn't mean I don't wimp out sometimes (i.e. I just couldn't bring myself to sharing in the room of nakedness in Japan...) and it certainly doesn't mean that I don't whine and whimper before trying something scary (i.e. roller coasters). But it does mean that I've been far more willing to try things that I would have previously erased from the map of opportunity, and I think that's the point anyway.

I lived within 2 hours of the NC mountains for 21 years of my life and somehow never got up there during the winter - not even to just see the things. For all of my globe trotting, I'd never seen a snow-capped mountain before I studied abroad in Europe in '05. It took another 5 years for me to stand on one, and it was just as majestic as I'd imagined! Snow everywhere I looked...a Southern kid's dream come true! I'd have been quite happy to sit at the lodge and sip hot chocolate all day, watching skiers slip and slide down the trails around me. But I've wanted to try out skiing for as long as I can remember, and so it was doubly exciting when I got to hit the slopes yesterday for the first time.

It took me an hour of sitting at the top of the bunny slope before I finally decided I was sick of being scared and I was just going to go down, whatever fate befell me. My first trip down began with a dramatic, screaming crash into the snow bank at the side of the trail...I had a hard time getting up both because of those damn boards attached to my feet (the knee can only really bend forwards and backwards, apparently...) and because I was laughing so hard. That trip down involved a few more crashes, but none so terrible that I wasn't willing to go back up and try it again. On my second trip down, I was rewarded with the perfect ski - no crashes until, well, the very end. So THAT'S what it feels like!

With that perfect run inflating my confidence and shooting adrenaline through my veins, I was ready to tackle a green run with my friends. After all, the bunny hill gets really boring really quickly. So I got to experience my third "first" of the day when we took the chairlift up to the top of the runs - what an awesomely fun invention that thing is! Then we went barreling down the trail. At times (30 second intervals when I got it all perfectly!), I felt like I was flying. At others, well, I found myself face-first and waist-deep in snow, with my fellow skiers staring up at me wondering if I would retain all my limbs. But that was fun, too. I'm from the South - being waist-deep in snow is something that seemed utterly unimaginable to me as a kid.

But skiing had a few lessons to teach beyond the joy of finally catching on to what it feels like to zoom down a mountain of crystal white snow. After all, I think one of the main reasons I thirst to collect experiences is that each one brings some new insight into the prism of life. Each one makes everything just a little more interesting. Each one opens my eyes a little more to the human experience. In any case, at the end of the day, we talked about the fact that the only way to really learn how to ski is to do it. Someone can try to describe it to you until they're blue in the face, but it won't do a bit of good if you never come down the mountain. After my first run down the bunny slope (an hour after I'd gone up...), Jose remarked to me that I had to start coming down. My second run was picture perfect sans spill at the end, but it never could have happened if I'd continued to try to learn how to do this thing by listening to instructions. When learning how to ski, you just have to quite literally take the leap down the hill, even if you have no idea what you're doing and no idea what lies around the corner in front of you. Sound familiar? Sounds like life to me.

The second lesson occurred as I dove face-first into and then over the snow bank on my first green run. A woman came to my aid immediately after I went flying over the bank, skis pointed skyward. "Do you need help?" she asked. Choking my laughter, I responded that would be lovely. I really wasn't sure at that point if I was ever going to be able to dig myself out alone. She helped me release my skis and get to my feet (easier said than done in 2 feet of snow) and reassured me that I was doing really well for my first time skiing. As I trudged back over the bank, I noticed that everyone within sight was staring up towards me to make sure I was okay. A bunch of strangers caring about me, one of whom helped me to my feet. When you leap down that hill, you might crash and burn along the way...but don't count out the possibility of a little help from your friends (or strangers). And if you do see someone crash and burn, pay it forward and help them to their feet. We see it happen all the time, most recently on a grand scale in Haiti, but it rings differently when it happens to you. Help your neighbor.

A day later, I can feel every muscle in my body and am surprised that I didn't wake up with one giant bruise! But honestly, it feels good - it's the exhaustion and soreness that comes from accomplishing something. Skiing's no hurdle in comparison to the obstacles that people everywhere have to face every day - in comparison to the obstacles people are facing in their fight to survive in Haiti, for example. But, it reinforced some of those critical life lessons which we only really believe once experienced. And damn, it was fun...even the falls. Something else to take away...

College Football Rants

On the heels of Haiti, this seems unimportant...but let's face it...life does go on, however cruelly...

Cutcliffe to leave Duke for Tennessee...

Now, this isn't gospel yet, but let's face it again. It's happening. What bullshit. The chain of selfishness and stupidity here amazes me - Pete Carroll will sink along with the putrid Seahawks, Lane Kiffin did zero at Tennessee to earn a head coaching job at USC and completely screwed UT over, and well...I don't blame Cutcliffe for leaving Duke for Tennessee, I guess. But come on, man - we were on our way, and you promised us a bowl. In any case, my updated list of top 3 hated colleges in America:

1) UNC - Forever and always. And Dear Roy - Yelling "Don't miss it!" to one of your players has not and will never constitute a breach of fandom, you disgusting, self-important fool.

2) Tennessee (previously ranked around #5). Face it. Post-Peyton, you'll never be the football power you once were. Quit recruiting crooks in your attempt to rise back to the rocky top. Fix your two front teeth, get rid of that stupid redneck hound mascot thing, and please ask Coach Pearl to stop dancing and do his job.

3) Notre Dame - Find a football conference..and stop clogging my TV with horrible games via your "exclusive contracts". Also, I hope Brian Kelly manages not to drool all over himself during games per your previous excuse for a football coach.

Sorry, I'm done. But good grief. The days of loyalty are far gone. I guess I shouldn't have railed on that in an earlier post...

What Shakes Us: Haiti

Is it possible to destroy a place that is already in pieces? Apparently, resoundingly, unbelievably...yes.

For someone who is prone to being chided for knowing too much about the news, I've turned a strangely blind eye to Haiti over the past couple of days. I didn't even hear about the earthquake until last night, and even then, I didn't turn on the news until today. I've been asking myself why, but I think the simple and probably most accurate answer is that I just didn't want to know.

Ever since I started paying attention a few hours ago, I haven't been able to take my eyes off of the post-apocalyptic scenes flashing through the news media. In some ways it's like the train wreck that you just can't stop watching. Like 9/11, the Asian tsunami, Katrina, or any other breathtaking disaster, my disbelief that something so horrendous can really happen - that this is not just a product of Hollywood - keeps me riveted. I can't help but think that this might be the worst thing I have ever seen. The president of Haiti is homeless tonight. The president. CNN interviewed him as he was trying to create some sort of workspace at the airport (where he was told, by the way, that he couldn't stay - who tells the president that he can't stay?). In any case, the president was asked if he had a place to sleep tonight. He answered that both of his homes had been destroyed and that his first priority was to organize search and rescue efforts. Then, "Finding a bed tonight is not an issue," he said. Finding a bed tonight - whether or not it actually is an issue for the president is not the issue - it's the fact that he has been reduced to finding one at all. Have you ever heard of anything like that - or even imagined it?

But aside from being glued to the horror of the situation in Haiti, I've realized that I am most attracted to witnessing the tremendous humanity that emerges in these worst of disasters. Under such dire circumstances, we're capable of putting aside all of the petty differences between us for the sake of our shared bond. The world races to help those in desperate need - we donate money we don't really have to those who have even less, we risk our lives for people we don't know and will probably never see again, we stop being a journalist and help move veterans to the top floor of a flooding hospital or treat a 15-day-old baby with a head injury. The Dominican Republic and Haiti have historically been at sometimes devastating odds with each other, and while things have gotten slightly better over the past few decades, it still gives me chills to hear that the D.R. was first on the scene to help Haiti. Bush II and Clinton are issuing joint statements. Then there was the Icelandic search and rescue man being interviewed by CNN. He'd just reported that the location of a woman who'd been trapped under rubble for 48 hours had been positively identified and thus the rescue effort could begin. "That's GREAT!" replied the CNN reporter. "No," said the man from Iceland, "it's more than that. It's BRILLIANT!" Iceland and Haiti. The only time I'd ever associated the two in my head until now was alphabetically. During these instances, all I can think is yes, Anne Frank, men are really good at heart.

But then, of course, CNN breaks from its Haiti coverage for a few minutes to report on what's going on in the rest of the world. Al Qaeda has issued another threat, many U.S. troops are unable to assist in Haiti because they're in wars in Iraq and Afghanistan, Congress is fighting over taxing banks. Then there are the local commercials - the candidates for Ted Kennedy's Senate seat trading nasty partisan blows. Then there is the inescapable fact that Haiti is so decimated by this earthquake because it was teetering on the edge of devastation in the first place - and that's our fault, too. If there were an earthquake in Washington, DC, and the White House were destroyed, President Obama would not be looking for a bed. No, Anne, you're wrong, men are ugly at heart.

How are we capable of such extremes? Neither Anne nor I are close to being the first person to ask this question, and I certainly won't be the last. But it's a question I think we have to keep asking ourselves. What disturbs me most in this situation is that one of my first thoughts upon hearing about the earthquake was, "Well, at least this will draw attention to Haiti." Maybe this was God's way of waking us all up to the horrors that already existed in Haiti. If so, how utterly tragic that things would have to get so much worse before they could inch toward getting better. Even if we're good at heart, we're guilty of extreme apathy. I'd like to think that even after the dust has-quite literally-settled, we'll still be in Haiti, rebuilding an infrastructure that might better survive another earthquake, strengthening the government, bolstering what has been a heroic but resource-scarce effort at improving public health. If that ends up being the case, then at least some lasting good can result from this tragedy. I'm just not so sure it will be. Our attention is focused, but short.

All of that said, my first hope, of course, is for those who are still injured and awaiting rescue. My prayers are with those sleeping on the streets of Port-au-Prince, those who have lost friends and family members, those who have yet to hear from their loved ones. I only wish, like so many, that I had the capacity to be on the ground and helping in Haiti. While I know that's currently impossible, it's events like this that remind me of why I want to go into human, and especially, medical services. I just hope that, as for the world, I can sustain my attention. God bless Haiti.

Resolving 2009

It's 3:37 am, and I should be going to sleep...should have been asleep an hour ago. But instead...this.

I used to be a quote guru. Just loved quotes, collected them, printed them out, pasted them to my wall, and pored over them. It didn't so much matter to me who said what, but instead, what was said and how I could apply it to my life. So, like any writer, I could start out 2010 with some mind-blowing quotation that I found yesterday. Instead, I'd much rather stick with what's tried and true - a quotation included on a sheet of paper my club soccer coach handed out to our team in preparation for a tournament I don't know how many years ago:

"Some men will give up their designs when they have almost reached the goal, while others, on the contrary, will obtain a victory, by exerting at the last moment, more vigorous effort than ever before." ~ Herodotus

Centuries after the father of modern history, NC State great Jimmy Valvano summed up these words quite nicely: "Never give up. Don't ever, ever give up."

2009 has been a tough year for me, no doubt. It seems the odd years are significant in my life - my parents were born in 1939 and 1953; they were married in 1983; my sister and I were born in 1989 and 1985, respectively; I graduated from high school in 2003 and Duke in 2007; I lost my mom in 2007. All odd years, pun intended.

In any case, I approach new years with a mix of optimism and fear, as I'm sure many people do. Really, these years are only some human invention, but they take on great significance in our lives. I can happily say that if January 1, 2010, gives any indication, I have hope for a wonderful year. I think that hope is half the battle - setting my mind to making things go well for the next 364 todays. I think that hope - or optimism - or positive outlook - or whatever you'd prefer to call it - is also my resolution for the next year. Resolve to be hopeful. Resolve to keep my head up, eyes on the road ahead.

2010 will bring us another Winter Olympics and another World Cup. It ushers in a new decade that seems so far removed, yet so soon in the wake of Y2K. I was 14 at the dawn of the last decade. A 9th grader, with bleach blonde hair and *NSYNC plastered all over my locker. How quickly these last 10 years have flown...how quickly the next 10 will as well. I want to make them worth my while. 2009 was tough, but I've had my friends and a pinch of my own determination to get me through to 2010. With them by my side, maybe 2010 can be a significant(ly good) year, despite its evenness. Never give up.