I really miss my Davis life because, as crazy and hectic as it was, there was a fine balance (for the most part). Yes, I was at one point taking 11 classes, working two jobs and three internships on top of being an officer for a club while preparing for my senior recital, a competition, and our annual luau (while still maintaining a consistent gym schedule, I might add ;)…but there was a balance.
The balance that I speak of is more along the lines of not just hardcore straight-up science every single day, all day long. I’ve long since referred to my music major as my de-stress major, even though that wasn’t always the case. But…being able to step back and work on something entirely different was a refreshing switch for me. It gave me a much-needed break. The people I run into usually don’t think that I was a science major right off the bat (unless I tell them I was pre-med). My piano teacher was somewhat disheartened that I didn’t choose to pursue music as a career (I can never let her know how terrible I’ve gotten since I stopped taking lessons from her :'( ). A friend today asked me why I was going into medicine, because she could totally see me going into journalism. Food critic, she says, because I love food so much.
This would be pretty awesome, I will admit, because back in the days of journalism, I learned that food critics basically get paid to bring their friends to restaurants and eat the world (this is a definite over-simplification, but bear with me here). This is what I like to do on a regular basis. However, there are distinct differences.
1) I’m not a picky eater. As long as it doesn’t go against my religious beliefs and doesn’t involve some type of strong cheese, olives, or stinky tofu, I’m good to go.
2) The most frequent phrases and adjectives I use to describe food (which you can definitely tell from my yelp reviews) = “full of awesome” and “amazing.” I’m pretty sure this wouldn’t fly.
3) My recipe for a win-win restaurant that I’d give five stars to is simple: food tastes good, ginormous portions (none of that fancy schmancy I’ll-give-you-a-speck-on-a-tiny-plate and charge you $14876 for it), great deal. I’m also pretty sure this wouldn’t go over quite so well.
Anyway, after this huge tangent, what I really meant to write about was the fact that I’m currently editing papers for an undergraduate at Rutgers. This is basically the closest to community service that I’ve gotten since I’ve been here. (I so miss volunteering for clinic. January 7th, mark my words! I’m coming back! ;_; ) The student is in the class that my housemate is TAing for. I happened to overhear that she really wished she could help him more, since he’s a great kid and tries really hard, but just needs help since English is his second language, so I volunteered to help, since I’m a freak and I love editing spelling + grammatical errors. (This is why Smoke Signal loved me as their copy editor. ;)
I am mildly confused at the last assignment he sent in though, because the personal reflection talks about “growing up watching Disney movies as a little girl,” and he is definitely not a little girl. : Question mark?
