As a side note, pathetic fallacy is a term I learned in Junior High School, I believe. I used it in a writing assignment, and the teacher told me what the device was called, and I've latched onto it ever since. Come to think of it, I learned the term onomatopoeia the same way. Or maybe that /was/ onomatopoeia. But then where did I learn pathetic fallacy? Ah well, the point is, I've been fond of the term ever since I learned it years ago, regardless of how I learned it. But that's neither here nor there.
You might remember The Window Story I wrote a little while back. The purely fictitious one. Well, it turns out that it's a completely true story. Okay, completely true with a little creative license. But there /was/ a girl and she /was/ very beautiful and I /did/ actually make a habit of sitting in my window waiting and watching, just to catch a mere fleeting glimpse of her. If you know me, and were around me in that environment at that point in my life, then I think there's no doubt of who the girl in question is (Jefferson Airplane - It's No Secret), and if not, then there's not much point in trying to identify her. So I will refer to her generically (and not particularly creatively) as Lady L. Partly because, considering how things happened, I don't really feel like I have any sort of possession over or right to use her name anyway. But mostly for the same reason that people don't like to utter the devil's true name for fear of inviting his power and control over their fragile hearts.
Don't get me wrong, she was not evil - in fact, she was much closer to an angel. But considering how I feel about God, I think you can understand my perspective. I will likely attribute all sorts of amazing powers to this girl whenever I invoke her likeness in any of my recountings of tales of days gone past, but you must understand that most of the power she had over me was likely a result of my own weakness, and that she was in fact very innocent and did not possess any malicious intent. At least as far as I could tell. But sometimes being kind hurts a hell of a lot more than being mean. Just try to keep this in mind.
She put a spell on me. Not by her will, but I was rendered powerless just the same. It's the kind of spell that a plantation worker puts on his zombies to get them to work in the field. You don't actually realize that you're under the spell at first, and you tend to react to your thoughts and feelings with denial, trying to rationalize your situation in any number of reasonable ways so long as they studiously avoid the truth - that you are a mindless slave, and you don't even have the will to resist. Of course, this all happens without actually dwelling on that possibility, so that it seems as if it were the last thing in the world that could be true. But it is true.
The first significant interaction (and I use that term loosely) I recall having with Lady L occurred at the end of my first semester at college. It was the lull before finals week. My dorm and the adjoining dorm was having some kind of get-together that evening, just to hang out, play some games, have some food, raffle off some crap, and things of that nature. Knowing that Lady L lived in the adjoining dorm,
I figured that it just might be a chance to see her. So I braved the social storm. She was there, along with what I believe were her two best friends at the time. I spent most of that get-together standing off to the side, against the wall, silently watching over the people moving around me - the way I tend to do.
Eventually, the crowds thinned out, and Lady L and her "entourage" acknowledged my existence, considering that we should have at least been aware of each other from our involvement in the anime club. They generally made me feel welcome, and we hung out casually until it was pretty much down to three of us - including L's closest friend (who was especially friendly). Would it be inconsiderate if I referred to her as Kinky K? I use the term in a most endearing manner. I remember that we played foosball and some card games (even though card games have never really been my thing), and I'm pretty sure that I generally made a fool of myself (although I could be biased). We all seemed to be having good fun, though.
There was just one problem. I had a radio show to dj that night. I think they were kind of impressed when I told them about it, but I was very reluctant to leave, even for something that I enjoy as much as hosting a radio show. But it would have been unreasonable (and probably have looked unfavorable) to blow it off, so I had to leave. I bid the two farewell, and trudged off into the driving rain. It wasn't just raining hard at this point, it was also cold, and very muddy. And here's the worst part: when I got to the radio station, I found a note there waiting, informing me that there were to be no radio shows for the rest of the semester. My co-host and I had chosen to do a show that night, thinking that it would be okay, considering that finals hadn't actually started yet, but our judgement was apparently incorrect.
So I trudged back to the dorms, in the cold, driving rain and slippery mud, my spirit downhearted. On a whim, I swang by the common room where the earlier get-together had been held, but peeking in, the two girls were nowhere to be seen - they most certainly had gone up to their rooms. This depressed me greatly, but I wasn't about to creep (deliberate word choice) around their doorsteps. So I swallowed my sorrow and returned to my room. But the effect that night had on me was irreversible.
Showing posts with label college memories. Show all posts
Showing posts with label college memories. Show all posts
27 July, 2008
14 February, 2008
College Memories (2)
Initiation/Orientation
I remember sitting in the van, with everything packed up, driving out, up the street, away from the house I had lived in for 12 years or so, heading toward the interstate, unimaginably excited about the journey I was embarking on. My dad was at the wheel. We were listening to RRK, and whether by fate or irony, the song Point Of Know Return by Kansas played. I knew that I was making a huge step in my life, and that from here there'd be no turning back.
We listened to Neil Young's Decade on the trip up. I saw visions of demons and angels in my head, during the instrumental portions of Cowgirl In The Sand. When we arrived in Lewisburg, it was getting late. We checked into the hotel we were staying at overnight, before the big day, and then tried to drive in to get a glimpse of the campus. We made it to Market St., and when my dad asked the guy at La Casa De Pizza where the campus was, he said it was just another block or two in that direction. We were confused, as we didn't know the area too well, but we got some pizza and took it back to the hotel. By this time, it was full-on dark. I remember eating that pizza in the hotel room, watching some Conan The Barbarian movie on television for a little bit, then listening to the radio on my portable system, trying to find which stations were good in this town, before finally getting to sleep.
In the morning, I giddily prepared myself, and we headed towards campus. Our car was directed to the building I was to be living in - Larison Hall. As we arrived, and stopped the car in front of the building, we were immediately absorbed by a whirlwind of volunteer assistants who quite efficiently whisked all my luggage away and up to my room. I and my dad were informed that this was the chance for me to go in, get my room key from my RA, and check out my room - without my dad's assistance, a first chance at independence. We eventually met back at my room, and started to unpack some of the more important things.
I finally got to meet my would-be roommate, Brent. Ironically, he was from California, which is where my then-girlfriend had moved to attend college. He was a great guy, very friendly, although we weren't really the best match, since he was a total party guy/social butterfly. But for what it could have been, it was a pretty positive experience since I had never faced the prospect of living in close quarters with a stranger before.
I guess there were some events and things, but it came to a point where my dad was anxious to start the long trip home, and where I needed to start getting used to living on my own, away from parental guidance and protection. We parted ways in the middle of a thronging crowd assembled for some activities fair type gathering on the lawn next to the chapel, and I remember it being an incredibly bittersweet moment, filled simultaneously with fear and excitement, sadness, and vigor.
There was about a week of freshman orientation before actual classes began, where we could get used to living on campus, where to get food, become acquainted with our hall mates, attend supposedly mandatory (ha!) meetings about adapting to college life, and stuff like that. Basically, it was a lot like some kind of camp, except that we were living in buildings and not tents or huts. There were some incredibly lame festivities, where we were held captive on the field and forced to play embarrassing games with the rest of the freshman class, which really lowered my appreciation for the whole orientation program.
My hall had some pretty cool people. Of the two guys right across the hall from my room, one of them was from Pittsburgh, which was pretty cool. He was kind of a rough-and-tumble sporty type, though. Once, we got in trouble for playing the same song from each of our rooms, and adjusting the volume so that you could get a perfect equal balance from both sides by standing right in the middle of the hall between the two rooms. That was awesome. Down the hall, in the triple, there was "rock star Mike" (the Asian and the Mike that I was friends with in college would find irony in the fact that this particular Mike was Asian - and a guitarist! Premonitions?), who was a talented guitarist, and Pedro, another beginning guitarist like myself. Interestingly, we had three Laurens on our hall, and two Kates of some form. There was also a fascinating individual by the name of Whitney, who I got to know a little better later on (he spent a year backpacking in Europe, before entering college!). He started out studying Japanese right away, and though I had plans to take Japanese too as soon as I got the chance, he once told me never to take it because it was so challenging!
During one of the early festivities on campus, though it may have been after classes had started, there was a fleeting experience that burned a lasting image in my mind. I was walking through a crowd on the fields and walkways outside the upper entrance of the LC, tons of people hanging out and having a good time. Maybe there were some crafts, maybe there was some food being served. It was a beautiful, warm, sunny day. Anyhow, and this image may have been idealized by my emotional reaction, but I recall seeing a beautiful girl in the grass, barefoot, with flowing blonde hair. It sparked in me a visceral connection to everything I loved about the idealism of the love and peace hippie generation, and though I didn't make any kind of specific connection to the girl at the time, I took it as a symbol of how beautiful and amazing this world was that I was just entering into! The possibilities were endless!
During those early days, I also met another person that would have a hand in shaping my experience of college life. I believe I first met Paul on the bench outside our advisor's office, waiting for our very first individual meetings with him. Paul was clearly much higher up on the social ladder than I, but we shared an interest in physics and classic rock music, as well as a passion for playing the guitar, so I like to think we were able to have a pretty meaningful acquaintanceship. In addition to my intense fandom of the band he later played in on and around campus, by his connection I was introduced to a lot of scenes that I never would have experienced otherwise. Not to say that all of those scenes were necessarily scenes that I wanted to be a part of, but even so, I'm grateful for getting to see all different sides of life, even if just for comparison.
One of the major developments of that first week of living on campus was the switch from rooming in a double to rooming in a single. My roommate Brent became friends with another guy a few doors down, who also came from California, and who lived in a single. Turns out this other guy was having doubts about attending Bucknell, and before the week was out, he arranged to withdraw and transfer to UCLA. Lucky for me, Brent was the first person to act on the vacancy. He moved into the single down the hall, leaving me in my room all to myself! Some people warned that the administration would find someone else to squeeze into my room in Brent's place, but no such thing ever happened. Besides, that room was pretty cramped for two people, anyway. But it was just right for one. The extra special bonus was that, since it was outfitted as a double, I got twice the furniture! So I had an extra set of shelves, twice the closet space, one desk for school work and one desk for my computer, and a double bed! It was fantastic! Truly a dream come true! I lofted both the beds, so as not to overcrowd the space in the room, and put my computer desk in the cave underneath. It was amazing! Shangri-La!!
I remember sitting in the van, with everything packed up, driving out, up the street, away from the house I had lived in for 12 years or so, heading toward the interstate, unimaginably excited about the journey I was embarking on. My dad was at the wheel. We were listening to RRK, and whether by fate or irony, the song Point Of Know Return by Kansas played. I knew that I was making a huge step in my life, and that from here there'd be no turning back.
We listened to Neil Young's Decade on the trip up. I saw visions of demons and angels in my head, during the instrumental portions of Cowgirl In The Sand. When we arrived in Lewisburg, it was getting late. We checked into the hotel we were staying at overnight, before the big day, and then tried to drive in to get a glimpse of the campus. We made it to Market St., and when my dad asked the guy at La Casa De Pizza where the campus was, he said it was just another block or two in that direction. We were confused, as we didn't know the area too well, but we got some pizza and took it back to the hotel. By this time, it was full-on dark. I remember eating that pizza in the hotel room, watching some Conan The Barbarian movie on television for a little bit, then listening to the radio on my portable system, trying to find which stations were good in this town, before finally getting to sleep.
In the morning, I giddily prepared myself, and we headed towards campus. Our car was directed to the building I was to be living in - Larison Hall. As we arrived, and stopped the car in front of the building, we were immediately absorbed by a whirlwind of volunteer assistants who quite efficiently whisked all my luggage away and up to my room. I and my dad were informed that this was the chance for me to go in, get my room key from my RA, and check out my room - without my dad's assistance, a first chance at independence. We eventually met back at my room, and started to unpack some of the more important things.
I finally got to meet my would-be roommate, Brent. Ironically, he was from California, which is where my then-girlfriend had moved to attend college. He was a great guy, very friendly, although we weren't really the best match, since he was a total party guy/social butterfly. But for what it could have been, it was a pretty positive experience since I had never faced the prospect of living in close quarters with a stranger before.
I guess there were some events and things, but it came to a point where my dad was anxious to start the long trip home, and where I needed to start getting used to living on my own, away from parental guidance and protection. We parted ways in the middle of a thronging crowd assembled for some activities fair type gathering on the lawn next to the chapel, and I remember it being an incredibly bittersweet moment, filled simultaneously with fear and excitement, sadness, and vigor.
There was about a week of freshman orientation before actual classes began, where we could get used to living on campus, where to get food, become acquainted with our hall mates, attend supposedly mandatory (ha!) meetings about adapting to college life, and stuff like that. Basically, it was a lot like some kind of camp, except that we were living in buildings and not tents or huts. There were some incredibly lame festivities, where we were held captive on the field and forced to play embarrassing games with the rest of the freshman class, which really lowered my appreciation for the whole orientation program.
My hall had some pretty cool people. Of the two guys right across the hall from my room, one of them was from Pittsburgh, which was pretty cool. He was kind of a rough-and-tumble sporty type, though. Once, we got in trouble for playing the same song from each of our rooms, and adjusting the volume so that you could get a perfect equal balance from both sides by standing right in the middle of the hall between the two rooms. That was awesome. Down the hall, in the triple, there was "rock star Mike" (the Asian and the Mike that I was friends with in college would find irony in the fact that this particular Mike was Asian - and a guitarist! Premonitions?), who was a talented guitarist, and Pedro, another beginning guitarist like myself. Interestingly, we had three Laurens on our hall, and two Kates of some form. There was also a fascinating individual by the name of Whitney, who I got to know a little better later on (he spent a year backpacking in Europe, before entering college!). He started out studying Japanese right away, and though I had plans to take Japanese too as soon as I got the chance, he once told me never to take it because it was so challenging!
During one of the early festivities on campus, though it may have been after classes had started, there was a fleeting experience that burned a lasting image in my mind. I was walking through a crowd on the fields and walkways outside the upper entrance of the LC, tons of people hanging out and having a good time. Maybe there were some crafts, maybe there was some food being served. It was a beautiful, warm, sunny day. Anyhow, and this image may have been idealized by my emotional reaction, but I recall seeing a beautiful girl in the grass, barefoot, with flowing blonde hair. It sparked in me a visceral connection to everything I loved about the idealism of the love and peace hippie generation, and though I didn't make any kind of specific connection to the girl at the time, I took it as a symbol of how beautiful and amazing this world was that I was just entering into! The possibilities were endless!
During those early days, I also met another person that would have a hand in shaping my experience of college life. I believe I first met Paul on the bench outside our advisor's office, waiting for our very first individual meetings with him. Paul was clearly much higher up on the social ladder than I, but we shared an interest in physics and classic rock music, as well as a passion for playing the guitar, so I like to think we were able to have a pretty meaningful acquaintanceship. In addition to my intense fandom of the band he later played in on and around campus, by his connection I was introduced to a lot of scenes that I never would have experienced otherwise. Not to say that all of those scenes were necessarily scenes that I wanted to be a part of, but even so, I'm grateful for getting to see all different sides of life, even if just for comparison.
One of the major developments of that first week of living on campus was the switch from rooming in a double to rooming in a single. My roommate Brent became friends with another guy a few doors down, who also came from California, and who lived in a single. Turns out this other guy was having doubts about attending Bucknell, and before the week was out, he arranged to withdraw and transfer to UCLA. Lucky for me, Brent was the first person to act on the vacancy. He moved into the single down the hall, leaving me in my room all to myself! Some people warned that the administration would find someone else to squeeze into my room in Brent's place, but no such thing ever happened. Besides, that room was pretty cramped for two people, anyway. But it was just right for one. The extra special bonus was that, since it was outfitted as a double, I got twice the furniture! So I had an extra set of shelves, twice the closet space, one desk for school work and one desk for my computer, and a double bed! It was fantastic! Truly a dream come true! I lofted both the beds, so as not to overcrowd the space in the room, and put my computer desk in the cave underneath. It was amazing! Shangri-La!!
27 December, 2007
College Memories (1)
The college application process was a nightmare for me. It's not altogether unlike the whole resume scene. Tests are one thing, but what I had trouble with the most was the recommendation letters. Asking somebody to write something like that for me was a huge hurdle, especially considering that I was the kind of person who tended not to make a huge impression on or have much personal connection with my teachers. The "college essay" was also something that I antagonized over. What is it even supposed to be about? I don't remember exactly what I ended up writing, but I think I just described a few aspects of my unique personality - you know, in an attempt to stand out.
For the letters of recommendation, since I was considering studying physics, I figured it would be a good idea to ask one of my physics teachers. There was the teacher of my current AP course, and then there was the teacher of my previous honors course. I felt a little bit closer to the teacher of my previous course, so I resolved to ask her for a letter of recommendation. It was really hard for me, but I forced myself to do it, and she accepted my request. For the second required letter of recommendation, I turned to the one teacher that probably knew me best (which is still to say, not a whole lot) - my Japanese teacher, V-sensei. It helped that she openly admired my intelligence. I had no problem convincing her to write me a recommendation.
I kind of waited till the last minute to apply to colleges. (Well, my older brother waited till the last minute; I guess you could say I waited till the last hour). It was a pain in the neck for me, and although my dad had made a point to take me to some college fairs so that I had tons of brochures to look through, I had a hard time figuring out where exactly I wanted to go. I eventually picked out four places, and applied to each one. Harvard was at the top, and Penn State was at the bottom - since my dad graduated from there, and my older brother was currently enrolled, I figured I'd have no problem getting in. Harvard flat out rejected me (although some 4 or so other kids from my high school had already been accepted to Harvard that year, probably on early decision, so they probably reached some kind of quota). Of the remaning two colleges, one put me on a waiting list, and the other accepted me. Oh, and Penn State also accepted me, as expected. So, ditching the waiting list college, I had two places to choose from - Penn State, and Bucknell University.
In the spring, I took a day trip up to Bucknell with my dad, and my girlfriend tagged along (she was already primed to enroll in a college in California - if things had progressed between us a few months earlier, I might have actually considered applying to a college in CA), on admissions day. The weather was cool and gloomy, with a little bit of drizzle here and there. I remember making a point to catch the trial physics lecture. Tom Solomon was the professor, and he definitely made an impression on me, talking about Chaos Theory and related issues. I was still undecided about my major (as I figure most people are at this stage), but I was toying with the idea of studying computer science. Unfortunately, there was a complicated split between the computer science associated with the engineering college and the computer science associated with the arts and sciences college, and it became this huge issue for my dad, who wanted to make sure that I was in the right position to pursue what it was I wanted to study. Of course, the issue wasn't nearly such a big deal, but my dad was determined to clarify the details, and I got incredibly embarrassed and somewhat frustrated at all the questions he insisted on asking various people.
It actually got pretty bad, and I kind of broke down, and started saying that I didn't even really want to go to college anyway, that I was only doing it because it was expected of me. My girlfriend tried to console me, and I felt a little better, and kind of just rode the rest of the day out. It was a mixed experience.
But among the cool things that happened that day, in addition to the neat physics lecture, I got to meet the anime society at the club fair. They had a really cool Evangelion wall scroll hanging up at their booth, which is the same wall scroll I had hanging up in my room back home. I talked with them very briefly (pretty sure it was the pres and vice pres of the club at the time), and became excited at the idea of joining an anime club. Another interesting experience that day was walking between the lower dorms and hearing Black Dog from Led Zeppelin's fourth album blaring from the direction of Larison Hall. That made an impression on me.
On another day, I went up, just with my dad this time, to visit Penn State main campus. My experience was much less personal, partly because it's a much bigger place (like 10 times the size and population of Bucknell), and partly because it wasn't explicitly the day for prospectives to check out the campus. But my dad knew the place well, and he showed me around. The main impression was: huge. It was like a city. It definitely didn't have the homely feel of Bucknell, but with size comes diversity, which breeds opportunity. Still, I felt more comfortable in a smaller place with less people. Plus, having the opportunity to attend a college like Bucknell seemed like one not to be missed. I mean, so many people go to Penn State, it just seemed like it would mean more to attend Bucknell. And that's the decision I made.
While I was deciding which classes to request for my first semester, I got the idea that I definitely wanted to major in physics. My concern was that if I didn't get off to a good start, then I wouldn't be sufficiently prepared by the end of my time at Bucknell to go to grad school. Like, if I didn't start right away, I wouldn't have time to earn the right credits, or that I'd have to get an arts degree instead of a science degree, and that that would give me a disadvantage trying to advance higher in the system. So instead of letting things work themselves out naturally, I made a point of entering the university as a physics major.
Among the other classes I requested, Japanese was one. Having finally got a chance to formally study Japanese in my final year in high school, I was anxious to continue my education in that language. As fate would have it, I ended up being forced to take a year off from my studies in Japanese, only to return to the language in my sophomore year. But the good thing about that is that I ended up studying with some really cool students.
For my required "freshman seminar", I had to pick a list of favorites from the available choices. There was a physics-oriented seminar, but the one that really caught my eye was more concerned with philosophy and psychology. It was titled "Distortions of Reality", and is definitely one of the greatest courses I've ever taken. And the professor was an unendingly fascinating individual himself. I also requested a general philosophy course, since I had always been interested in philosophy, and there had never been any philosophy courses in my high school - the closest I could get was a psychology course in my senior year.
So my freshman schedule consisted of the freshman seminar mentioned above, the introductory philosophy course, and for my major, a combination of the introductory physics course, and Calculus III. I guess that last one requires a little explanation. I took AP Physics and AP Calculus (the higher of the two AP Calculus courses) my senior year in high school. I also took an AP Computer Science course (in C++). I managed to score a 5 on my AP Calculus exam, so Bucknell placed me considerably ahead in math. It was a mixed blessing. The higher I got in math in high school, the more I felt like I needed some extra time to get my bearings and really understand what I was doing. But I kept plowing ahead. And that continued into college. I was able to survive through Calculus and Differential Equations, and once I got to Logic (the mathematical, not the philosophical kind), it was a refreshing change of scenery. Instead of solving equations, which is more important to science, all of a sudden it was about proving (mathematical) statements, which was endlessly more interesting, and far easier for me. I regret not studying more and higher math in college, but on the other hand, it was a relief to finish my math requirements early, and open up spaces for some more interesting courses, like the ones that earned me minors in Japanese and philosophy.
For the letters of recommendation, since I was considering studying physics, I figured it would be a good idea to ask one of my physics teachers. There was the teacher of my current AP course, and then there was the teacher of my previous honors course. I felt a little bit closer to the teacher of my previous course, so I resolved to ask her for a letter of recommendation. It was really hard for me, but I forced myself to do it, and she accepted my request. For the second required letter of recommendation, I turned to the one teacher that probably knew me best (which is still to say, not a whole lot) - my Japanese teacher, V-sensei. It helped that she openly admired my intelligence. I had no problem convincing her to write me a recommendation.
I kind of waited till the last minute to apply to colleges. (Well, my older brother waited till the last minute; I guess you could say I waited till the last hour). It was a pain in the neck for me, and although my dad had made a point to take me to some college fairs so that I had tons of brochures to look through, I had a hard time figuring out where exactly I wanted to go. I eventually picked out four places, and applied to each one. Harvard was at the top, and Penn State was at the bottom - since my dad graduated from there, and my older brother was currently enrolled, I figured I'd have no problem getting in. Harvard flat out rejected me (although some 4 or so other kids from my high school had already been accepted to Harvard that year, probably on early decision, so they probably reached some kind of quota). Of the remaning two colleges, one put me on a waiting list, and the other accepted me. Oh, and Penn State also accepted me, as expected. So, ditching the waiting list college, I had two places to choose from - Penn State, and Bucknell University.
In the spring, I took a day trip up to Bucknell with my dad, and my girlfriend tagged along (she was already primed to enroll in a college in California - if things had progressed between us a few months earlier, I might have actually considered applying to a college in CA), on admissions day. The weather was cool and gloomy, with a little bit of drizzle here and there. I remember making a point to catch the trial physics lecture. Tom Solomon was the professor, and he definitely made an impression on me, talking about Chaos Theory and related issues. I was still undecided about my major (as I figure most people are at this stage), but I was toying with the idea of studying computer science. Unfortunately, there was a complicated split between the computer science associated with the engineering college and the computer science associated with the arts and sciences college, and it became this huge issue for my dad, who wanted to make sure that I was in the right position to pursue what it was I wanted to study. Of course, the issue wasn't nearly such a big deal, but my dad was determined to clarify the details, and I got incredibly embarrassed and somewhat frustrated at all the questions he insisted on asking various people.
It actually got pretty bad, and I kind of broke down, and started saying that I didn't even really want to go to college anyway, that I was only doing it because it was expected of me. My girlfriend tried to console me, and I felt a little better, and kind of just rode the rest of the day out. It was a mixed experience.
But among the cool things that happened that day, in addition to the neat physics lecture, I got to meet the anime society at the club fair. They had a really cool Evangelion wall scroll hanging up at their booth, which is the same wall scroll I had hanging up in my room back home. I talked with them very briefly (pretty sure it was the pres and vice pres of the club at the time), and became excited at the idea of joining an anime club. Another interesting experience that day was walking between the lower dorms and hearing Black Dog from Led Zeppelin's fourth album blaring from the direction of Larison Hall. That made an impression on me.
On another day, I went up, just with my dad this time, to visit Penn State main campus. My experience was much less personal, partly because it's a much bigger place (like 10 times the size and population of Bucknell), and partly because it wasn't explicitly the day for prospectives to check out the campus. But my dad knew the place well, and he showed me around. The main impression was: huge. It was like a city. It definitely didn't have the homely feel of Bucknell, but with size comes diversity, which breeds opportunity. Still, I felt more comfortable in a smaller place with less people. Plus, having the opportunity to attend a college like Bucknell seemed like one not to be missed. I mean, so many people go to Penn State, it just seemed like it would mean more to attend Bucknell. And that's the decision I made.
While I was deciding which classes to request for my first semester, I got the idea that I definitely wanted to major in physics. My concern was that if I didn't get off to a good start, then I wouldn't be sufficiently prepared by the end of my time at Bucknell to go to grad school. Like, if I didn't start right away, I wouldn't have time to earn the right credits, or that I'd have to get an arts degree instead of a science degree, and that that would give me a disadvantage trying to advance higher in the system. So instead of letting things work themselves out naturally, I made a point of entering the university as a physics major.
Among the other classes I requested, Japanese was one. Having finally got a chance to formally study Japanese in my final year in high school, I was anxious to continue my education in that language. As fate would have it, I ended up being forced to take a year off from my studies in Japanese, only to return to the language in my sophomore year. But the good thing about that is that I ended up studying with some really cool students.
For my required "freshman seminar", I had to pick a list of favorites from the available choices. There was a physics-oriented seminar, but the one that really caught my eye was more concerned with philosophy and psychology. It was titled "Distortions of Reality", and is definitely one of the greatest courses I've ever taken. And the professor was an unendingly fascinating individual himself. I also requested a general philosophy course, since I had always been interested in philosophy, and there had never been any philosophy courses in my high school - the closest I could get was a psychology course in my senior year.
So my freshman schedule consisted of the freshman seminar mentioned above, the introductory philosophy course, and for my major, a combination of the introductory physics course, and Calculus III. I guess that last one requires a little explanation. I took AP Physics and AP Calculus (the higher of the two AP Calculus courses) my senior year in high school. I also took an AP Computer Science course (in C++). I managed to score a 5 on my AP Calculus exam, so Bucknell placed me considerably ahead in math. It was a mixed blessing. The higher I got in math in high school, the more I felt like I needed some extra time to get my bearings and really understand what I was doing. But I kept plowing ahead. And that continued into college. I was able to survive through Calculus and Differential Equations, and once I got to Logic (the mathematical, not the philosophical kind), it was a refreshing change of scenery. Instead of solving equations, which is more important to science, all of a sudden it was about proving (mathematical) statements, which was endlessly more interesting, and far easier for me. I regret not studying more and higher math in college, but on the other hand, it was a relief to finish my math requirements early, and open up spaces for some more interesting courses, like the ones that earned me minors in Japanese and philosophy.
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