The First Last Day

It's the first day of studying for finals and completing written projects, and the last day I'll need to worry about class.  This was my one major thought yesterday, as I mindlessly went through my day.  Four classes, and after each one I felt that much closer to the end.  I am relieved it is raining out today.  If the sun were shining and people were heading to the beach, who knows when my closing work would have gotten done?  Today is the perfect day to finish a research project, and collect all my notes and flashcards for the three finals that await me.  I will be going nowhere today except to the grocery store to buy some soup, study food, and a lot of Gatorade, which is my study drink of choice.  I hope everyone enjoys their rainy day in Rhode Island, and good luck with all of your finals and projects!

Wrapping Up

As I'm sitting at my desk wrapping up my final projects and reports, I'm left wondering what the future holds for me.  College is nearly done, and my life is about to begin.  How did that happen!?  I still feel like a freshman or even a high schooler.  There is no way I am mature enough for the "real world."  I have held the same job for the past five years, and know nothing but that.  I'll be graduating as a history major and with a minor qualifying me as an underwater archaeologist.  Wonderful...how will I combine those into a paying job?  I have been toying with the idea that maybe I will just run and hide in the Caribbean and teach people how to scuba dive at a ritzy resort.  That would be quite the cultural submersion!  I would see people from all over the world, and experience cultures I would never dream of coming in contact with.  While that sounds like a good plan, I'm sure my family would have something to say about my escape from the real world.  I just don't see myself as a person who could hold a 9-5 job.  I don't belong at a desk, and I can't stand the manipulation and abuse of people in the business world.  I just want to enjoy life, and I don't know if that is possible holding a constant job.  As graduation looms, I think of the book "Into the Wild."  That doesn't sound too far-fetched to me anymore, but as opposed to a cold destination like Alaska, I would escape somewhere closer to the equator.  I tend to be a warm-weathered person.  I guess we will just have to wait and see where I end up, and what kind of work I will be doing.  Hopefully I won't be stuck doing some insignificant, mindless work at a desk in a cubicle somewhere.  Good luck to all graduating, and I hope the real world is good to all of us!

Culture Clash

Unfortunately I have not had an experience where two cultures have clashed like our professor.  I did however experience one of the most bizarre culture clashes a few years ago.  My former band was playing a gig in Asbury Park at the Stone Pony, and my band has a lighter, jam-band sound.  We were sandals, light jeans and t-shirts or some flannels.  Normally, I would not have thought about what I was wearing, but the opening band was of a completely opposite music culture.  Skin tight, black jeans, with even tighter shirts, spiked hair, piercings and make-up was the attire of the other band and the crowd they brought.  It was some of the loudest music I had heard, and their fans danced with such anger, that most of our fans retreated back to the bar to sit and watch from afar.  Our peaceful, hippyish friends and fans emerged to the front of the room once my band took the stage, and it was a reversal.  The crazed fans of the other band couldn't hand the light, flowing music with harmonies and happy lyrics.  I have never seen two groups of people so completely different, who have been brought together for a similar experience.  Everyone was there to support their friends, or to see a great show.  Little did we all know, that we would be sharing the venue with our exact opposites.  To this day, I still wonder who the man or woman was that thought it would be a good idea to book my band and the punk-rockers from Delaware at the same show.

Masses of People

In this post I want to compare two experiences of uncontrollable crowds.  Three years ago my family went to a New York Jets game.  My mother is about 5'00" on the dot, and to see her amongst gigantic, drunk football fans was quite a scene.  She couldn't get over the masses in the parking lots, where people perched atop their campers, grills sparked, and people threw a football to each other regardless of the hundreds of people acting like a blanket of defense.  I have never been so caught off guard in a crowded situation.  While I was loving the crowd, my mom could not understand their purpose, and why they sat outside the game as opposed to sit at home watching it on the tv.  The only reason I could give was that it was a different culture.  Not knowing the area made me feel more comfortable with the large crowd, as if they were all there to guide me to my destination, or protect me from the minority of Seattle Seahawk fans.  This past new years eve however brought on a new feeling when dealing with large crowds.  My friends and I had a party at our house, and it was going great until a mass of people poured in our house.  It seemed like we couldn't keep them out, and as if they were plotting a mutiny.  We grew very uncomfortable with the faceless people with whom we had no connection to.  In that sense I was taken aback because this was my mom, I feel as though it is my domain and I should be aware of everything and everyone who steps inside.  I did not know what it felt like to be a guest in my own home until that night, but within the hour we started to calm down and accept the party for what it was.  We brought in the new year with new friendships, and some raised voices when we told a group of chaotic members to leave.  Welcome 2012, and welcome crowds of people!

The Adventure of Spring Break

The week off could not have come any quicker!  Classes were dragging and tensions within the house were rising.  Everyone here needed a break, whether it be from each other or from the grueling work that comes with being a senior.  I took off early thursday morning heading for home, Princeton New Jersey.  The drive was quick and painless, and upon my arrival home I could already smell the vast array of home cooked meals that have filled the table throughout the past week.  I couldn't wait for my first meal home again.  Steak, asparagus and potatoes hit my table, and I hit my plate without hesitation.  After dinner my friends and I who were all around went out to the local bar, which brews their own beer.  Three "Bengal Gold IPA's" later and it felt like my friends and I had never left home.  All our college stories were coming to an end and it was just like the good old days.  The next few days my friend and I ventured into Pennsylvania to go rocks climbing and hiking.  At High Rocks Vista we climbed up the sheer rock face for hours.  My friend and I set anchors and then we would belay the other while they made the trip to the top.  I haven;t been outdoor climbing since the summer so it was a great feeling when I sensed that adrenaline rush at the first sign of fatigue.  The view from above was amazing!  A few birds swooped by at eye level, and it was great to get a sense of what they see when looking down over the sheer rock face.  That night we headed into Philadelphia to see one of our favorite bands from high school, Moe.  They played a pretty good show, filtering in all the classics throughout the three hour set.  The next few days were littered with climbing, hiking, biking, and visits to the local brewery Triumph.  It was a relaxing break filled with good friends, family, food, and of course beer.

The Climb up Little Spencer

Although the name of the mountain was Littler Spencer, there was nothing little or insignificant about the climb.  On Moosehead Lake in Greenville, Maine, My buddy and I hiked up Little Spencer.  It was a foggy day, and as we made a ascent, the fog got heavier and it turned to a mist.  We hit the hardest part of the climb when we got to what is known as "the chimney."  This narrow chute of sheer rock face demands complete concentration and a knowledge of one's one climbing abilities.  We free climbed up the chute, and once at the top of the chimney sat ourselves next to the native Maine blueberry bushes and had ourselves a feast.  Although we were both drained, we knew we had only climbed a third of Little Spencer.  The fog got heavier as did the sent of pine needles.  It was late July, but it smelled exactly like Christmas. Finally after stumbling through an area which clearly was just subject to an intense rock slide, we reached our goal, the summit of Little Spencer.  This was one of the most outrageous feelings I have ever experience.  With the dense fog, visibility was close to zero, but every few minutes the clouds would fly by and we could look out and get a sense of where on the lake we were, and how high up the summit was.  It was an outrageous feeling with the clouds whipping past, the mist striking our faces, and the heavy breathing that entailed after our gnarly climb.  Once rested up, Dave and I made our way back down Little Spencer, and once we got the Chimney we tied our rope to a tree in hopes that it would hold, and repelled down.  This seemed like a good idea instead of trying to free climb down the whole thing.  Leaving a rope behind was worth it, and we though it would be of great assistance to any future climbers.  Finally we made it back to the car which was parked on the side of a logging road in the back country of Maine.  We sat in the car exhausted, rewarded, and still perplexed by the feeling we experience at the top of Little Spencer.  That climb will always be heavy on my mind, and to this day I cannot put into words the strange euphoric feeling at the top with the clouds passing through us.

Casino Troubles

This weekend my buddies and I went to Foxwoods in Connecticut.  I'm not a big gambler, but my two friends are avid poker players.  I was playing blackjack while they hit the poker tables.  I doubled up, and took home some money, while they lost big at the casino.  Despite their troubles at the casino, the drive to and from the casino was a lot of fun.  We spent the 45 minutes listening to Curtis Mayfield, and observing our surroundings.  There is not a whole lot, when you drive out to Foxwoods, but we were driving alongside another car for two or three miles, and until the third mile this person did not realize we were watching their actions.  They were clearly on the phone, and he was very frustrated.  As the roads changed from three lanes to two, then two to one, this man was missing the road signs and would have to quickly merge.  The tree's blew by us, until there was a clearing and we saw the lights of the casino.  It was almost as if we could hear the bells ringing and the opportunities that awaited us within the large structure.  The trip home was a bit depressing for the others, but we stopped at a pizza joint and I bought us all some slices, so the trip took on a brighter feeling with some cheesy goodness in Connecticut.

Sunday Funday

Sunday Funday was another uneventful day, filled with laziness and boredom. My day consisted of playing Madden football, and cleaning the house.  One thing that is worth telling you about is the walk I went on.  My friend had her yellow lab, Sally, here for the weekend.  We took the dog out for a walk to the beach and a fishing path down past Roger Wheeler Beach.  It was a beautiful February day?  How are we having such nice weather right now?  I could have played more golf now than I could have in February.  That is besides the point though.  On our walk, I was completely focused in on Sally.  That dog was so happy to be outside and going for a walk.  She found every little thing so amazing, a leaf blowing in the wind, a passing car, the breaking of the waves, and the random seagulls scattering the beach and parking lot.  Since its offseason at the beaches, there is no maintenance, and we found some pretty cool, rustic looking crab cages.  On our walk home it started to get a little cooler, and we made the trip home a little more pep in our step.

Sunday Drive

Today I took a drive along Ocean Drive just to get out of the house.  Although it was a bitter day, driving around the coast with the heat blasting and the tunes bumping was so peaceful.  I was able to block out the stress of taking seven courses this semester, and focus on the road, the landscape, and the music.  Driving across the Newport Bridge, there was a caution sign for fallen debris, I didn't think much of it, and then all of a sudden there were two lawn chairs sitting in the middle of my lane.  Luckily I was the only traveler on the bridge so I was able to avoid it.  That was the only setback in my drive today.  The rest of my trip was filled with great views of amazing houses, the mansions in Newport, and the water crashing and breaking on the beaches of Newport.  This was one of the best drives I have ever taken because now I'm back home studying for my history quiz tomorrow.  Hopefully I didn't spend too much driving around, because I need to do well on my quiz.  Wish me luck!  Hope everyone else is doing well, have a good week at school and enjoy your Presidents Day this coming Monday!!!!

All Roads Lead to Home

       I was chasing solitude and happiness, so my friend and I took the wheel and trekked the eleven hours up to Moosehead Lake in Maine.  The trip was a spur of the moment idea, which took place in the few remaining weeks of our summer.  The scenery on our way up became more aesthetically pleasing as we passed Boston, and the land around us became more spacious and aromatic.  Navigating our way through Maine, using road maps and intuition, we found ourselves traveling on some dirt roads, and through towns made up of tiny populations.  I could tell already that the trip to Maine would provide the solitude my friend and I were seeking.  The picture on my blog is of Mt. Kineo on Moosehead Lake.  Upon our arrival to the lake, we took the hike up Mt. Kineo and other mountains for the next few days.  Our days were long and tiresome, but neither of us had a thought of home, or the coming semester which would bring stress, late nights, and last minute study sessions.  Ten days and six mountains later, it was time to make our trip back to Princeton, New Jersey.
       The second we saw that big green "New Jersey Welcomes You" sign, we felt our journey come to an end.  It was not depressing, but it felt as though we had paused life to escape to the mountains of Maine.  As we got closer to home, and saw the familiar businesses, landmarks, and people, we once again felt connected to the community we were a part of in Princeton.  While our trip to Maine dramatizes the joy of returning home, I feel this same sense of belonging and comfort every time I turn onto my street, Chicory Lane.  Every time I walk through the door and smell that constant aroma of my house, and the meals my parents have cooked, I feel that blanket of comfort come over me.  Home is a sanctuary that always provides one with a sense of belonging and love.  To me, the word home is not representative of the actual house, but the love and sentiment received by his or her family.