This Is Not a Love Poem

i am in love with people and places
in love with the thinkers, the creators, the wanderers
in love with big dreams, cautionary tales and storytellers

in love with the world around me and its curiosity
in love with every sunrise, falling sky and a million mysteries
in wondrous, captivating, all-encompassing love with a God
so big i can't fathom the story (and a love even bigger)

in love with oceans and the way they give and take away
in love with sharp boundaries and the fences we break
in love with living, and its infinitesimal nature; moth to flame

in love with the unflinching strength of the human heart
in love with raw emotion and difficult conversations, and
in love with the most elusive thing—chaotic inspiration

in love with statistical improbabilities
in love with maybes, what-ifs and possibilities
in love with Taylor Swift day-dreaming, wish-upon-a-star hoping

in love with a broken, beautiful generation of hearts
in love with the invitation to believe in better days
in love with the people i am lucky enough to meet—always

in love with the mathematicians of the ages, on black-and-white thrones
in love with the open-hearted stranger looking for answers
in so much love with the incredible great unknown

in love with everyday kings and queens
in love with an unbreakable, intimate, earth-span community
in love with a royal court that was only ever built for loving

i am in love with people and their stories
i am in love with people
i am in love
i am

tonight, 
as i struggle to remember 
that i am defined by a Love so great,

my prayer is just this—
let not the things of this world ever sway me.

a pointwise stroll (amongst the stars)

tonight, i walk to the edge and dare to look not down, but up
and i find that i have come further than i could fathom
so tonight i find myself contemplating the world in polar time
hanging on a horizon lit by the measure of a parameter
just beyond the reach of our comprehension—
comprehension in all of its finite, curious glory.

and as iron sharpens iron, so we will too
as we tumble through this rabbit hole of wonder
vast enough to hold the universe in its pocket
(and then some, because who measures the infinite?)
a universe so big i could never pinpoint the north star—
the one guiding all of our (extra)ordinary hearts.

chemical imbalance, in (way, way over) my head
sparking obvious midnight chances set against a backdrop
of telescoping ideas in n-dimensional space
space that could not be contained by the greatest atlas
space containing the lion-shaped constellations of our souls
and the thunderous hummingbird-song of our heartbeats.

Café Latte Musings

"A flamingo coffee with two sugar, one milk,"

The barista smiles brightly at me, the perfect start to a morning

complete with summer sunshine and blackened white zebra toast

The long-necked giraffes chatter, preparing for another day's work

It's a jungle out there in the great wide world

The toucans are curiously cute (but only from a distance),

their rainbow beaks hiding stashes of treasures (cinnamon biscotti)

teasing me with their streams of poetry and harmonies,

As they whisper too softly, planning oh-so-carefully,

getting ready to spend the day singing and fooling the elephants

Much unalike to the constant flutter of the wings of the hummingbirds

"She’s back in town, she's changed so much, have you heard?"

Gossiping on scintillating headlines, making waves with only wings

And filling the air with a million heartbeats, so fleeting you could never catch

a single word without a little help from a long-eared feline friend

I stare through one-way mirrors, observing the gazelles

Devising, searching, strategizing to stay on top for just one more day

After all, tomorrow is as tomorrow comes—right now, we play!

Stay oblivious to the next storm around the corner

as the espresso maker breaks, shattering glass onto the foxes' nest

The parrots gather together near the cappuccino pond

A rainbow clique of beauty and equally disorganized minds

Pecking at the chocolate trifles, always asking questions on repeat

Curiouser and curiouser, rolling loaded dice in this crazy life

Never finding the answers that they want in this earthly cacophony

The elephant sits alone with his Earl Grey tea, sipping from a ceramic mug

filled with the wisdom of the ages (and maybe a little bit of Irish cream),

supposedly reading from a tome of poetry, but really watching the monkeys

before they are quickly trotted back behind steel-trap bars

(The zookeepers are afraid that they will scratch, you know)

The well-dressed fox sends his dark roast back in a huff

and the tigress of a waitress proceeds to pounce (he'll be sorry)

as the buffalos stomp out, pretending they are of high society 

their steps echoing, yet quickly lost in the caffeinated madness—

Oh, just another morning in the jungle of humanity

for the one i'm thinking of tonight:
may your curious, wandering, brilliant spirit rest in peace.

a summary of this girl + this moment

butterflies. polynomials. the question that only you dared to ask. midnight lifechats. 1AM driving. whiteboard memories. thankfulness. Your Love. happiness. sisters (mine and yours). pumpkin pie. heartbeats. ashes for beauty. differential equations. maybes. music. apple cider. perfect autumn afternoons spent in playful conversation. don't tell me that it's never crossed your mind. the hard choices that brought me here. hazel eyes. bigger than life friendships. new friends. Sunday mornings. fleeting smiles. warm coffee cups. cinnamon sparks. Galois. safety. snuggly scarves. cats. risks. fall(ing).

The Accidental Poet

I've loved words for as long as I can remember.
However, seven-year-old me (and eleven- and fifteen-year-old me) hated poetry.

Poets were other people. Poets were beret-wearing, coffee-drinking, guitar-playing mad hatters who wandered around reciting in rhyme and iambic pentameter. (English classes did not help this stereotype.) Poets were strange people with stranger ideas who typed exclusively in lowercase. I definitely didn't want to be a poet.

You might have deduced by now that I didn't fall in love with poetry by choice.

In my senior year of high school, I took a Writer's Craft course in which we were forced to write poetry, and was surprised to find that maybe I didn't hate it (with the exception of the ballad. I still can't write those to save my life). So I found myself doing more of it—for marks initially, but eventually just for the joy of capturing everyday beauty (and pain). And slowly but surely, I found that I, too, became a writer of poems. No, not a poet. Just someone who wrote poems.

But tonight while writing my not-love-poem (it's a work in progress. The working title is "This is Not a Love Poem"), I realized that I am so in love with the art form, and it dawned on me that perhaps I have possibly, unwittingly become an accidental poet.

I've never thought of myself as a poet until tonight, but the idea no longer feels so otherly. For the first time, the name of poet feels like it could be mine.

I think I kind of love it.

for the first time in forever

                                                      "It's been so long since I have met you here; 

                                               since I have heard You speak and let You near..."

                                                                     - Starfield, "Alive in This Moment"

I can't name the moment in which everything changed. But driving home tonight, I realized that now I know the answer to the question that has been on my heart recently. 

In today's sermon and study we were asked to consider what risks God has been asking us to take in our lives; what changes we need to make that required taking that leap of faith.

This, tonight, was mine.

It has been a hell of a year. But now I know that despite all my doubts, You never left. And finally I am home, and I find that maybe home is not where I expect, but instead that I am only ever home in You. Now I know that You have brought me (us) here for all the right reasons; of this I am unmistakably certain.

So in this moment, I know that this is where I belong. 

Where You Will Find Me

Tonight, my thoughts are in a crowded room
with strangers whom I will never meet (in this universe)
Amongst a cacophony of bright chandelier lights
and conversations the darkest shade of royal blue  

Tonight, my thoughts are with the pretty eyes
that were locked on you from the very first day
I can read her mind from 3549 miles away
and I only wish that I were more wrong

Tonight, my thoughts are in a different timezone
five hours away, but seeming closer to a lifetime
Sleepy heartbeats tick with the midnight clock
You promised to never make me wait

Tonight, my thoughts are with you (of course)
spinning around in a ballroom of like minds
enchanted in a place an infinite order from home—
if you believe that home is where the heart is

Tonight, my thoughts are galaxies away in the past:
four months ago, to the time when we stood together
on the holy ground of a crowded airport tea shop and
you kissed me good-bye for another four months' time

Tonight, my thoughts are with tomorrow
Perpetually at home in the hopeful airport terminal
waiting until the day that letters, missed calls and
heartbeats align in Euclidean space and infinite time

i need a metric (space)

“If you aren't in over your head, how do you know how tall you are?”

                                                         - T.S. Eliot

Well, I'm about to find out for the first time. I am absolutely,
positively, most definitely in way over my head.
But I always did like a good challenge, and I can't quit now.
I guess I'll just have to learn a little faster.
We all stand a little taller on the shoulders of giants.

a million questions

i want to be the kind of girl who wears red lipstick.
i want to be the kind of girl who can do math and tell stories.
i want to be the kind of girl who wears cute socks and polka dotted tights.
i want to be the kind of girl who writes in coffee shops.
i want to be the kind of girl who drinks black coffee.
i want to be the kind of girl who plays guitar.
i want to be the kind of girl who can code.
i want to be the kind of girl who reads both great literature and yellow books.
i want to be the kind of girl who will fight to see the morning skyline.
i want to be the kind of girl who wears skirts and dresses, even in the winter.
i want to be the kind of girl who dances in storms without caring about wet hair.
i want to be a scholar of the Renaissance.
i want to be the kind of girl who believes in imperfect people doing amazing work.
i want to be the kind of girl who sees beauty in the broken and the best of humanity.
i want to be the kind of girl who loves God and life and living.
i am just a perfectly flawed girl.

there are all kinds of love in this world, but never the same love twice

                                                                             - F. Scott Fitzgerald

o1. maybe i'm happy to find out that i could be wrong about this. you are a contradiction and a mystery, and i wish i could have gotten to know you better. your quick wit was never lost on me. it's wonderful to think that maybe we have more time, after all. and even if our paths were to never cross on this Earth again, i expect to dance with you amongst angels Someday. FIBONACCI

o2. okay, i'll say it: i love the way you wonder. i like the way you ask questions; i admire that you are always searching for answers. i like the way that you never stop learning—you act like everyone around you has something to teach you, and that is what i admire about so deeply about you. i think you're bound for greatness. WEIERSTRASS

o3. i miss you. i also worry about you, but i've never known anyone braver. i'm lucky to have you in my life, even if only sometimes. i think about you watching sunrises out there, and it makes me smile. i will always be around, m'dear. CHURCHILL

o4. we know what everyone is saying, but we never say a word. once in a while you meet someone and everything clicks, and it's like you've known them all along. this is you and i. you make me laugh more than anyone does, and we philosophize like it's everything. nothing you say phases me, and i can't believe that we basically just met. now it feels like i don't know how i ever did without your laughter in my life; how i'll ever do without it again. CAUCHY-SCHWARZ

o5. they say that if a friendship lasts seven years, then it will last a lifetime. i sure hope they're right about us. we've seen it all. maybe that's why we are the best storytellers together. i love the way you love with all you have. i love how you are unafraid of adventure. TAYLOR SWIFT

o6. maybe it's the brilliance of the city or maybe it's just the fleeting wonder of our friendship, but wandering the city with you that night? it stayed with me. it feels like we can always pick up where we left off; like i could see us doing this in years' time, catching up on big dreams and priceless conversation. i don't know where life will take us, but i know that i will see you again. TORONTO

o7. all the talent in the world can't make up for a lacking personality. there is more to it than this. don't you ever forget that. DIRICHLET

o8. you may be younger, but i look up to you; you are an inspiration. you are stunningly talented and yet the sweetest thing. run with that ambition, and don't ever let anyone tell you otherwise. those big dreams are going to be take you so far in this crazy life. i expect to see your name in print one day. oh, and do note that you can wear pretty dresses and still be the most incredible scientist. LOVELACE

o9. i never understand anything you say, but it's okay. you are the oddest one, but with more than enough talent to make up for it. i've never met anyone who embodies the Renaissance scholar quite as perfectly as you do; the world is yours. i'm infinitely curious to know where you will end up. ERDOS

1o. we both wanted you to be a hero. and the truth is, you are lovely, but i can't wait forever for maybe. i can't plan my tomorrows around a possibility, and i can't fall in love with a beautiful idea—even if it's the safest way to fall. i will never say that we were a waste of time, but i will say that maybe all we were meant to be to each other is an infinitely beautiful idea. GUESSING

Prisoner's Prayer (The Lost)

"What city are we in?"
I dare to ask the boy whom I have never met,
whose posture is as straight as the loaded gun
that clinks—hard—against his skin,
which is darker than the desert night itself.

He walks in step with me, hard military boots echoing
against the barren Earth, so unlike the sound of my bare feet
being worn against the callous ground across the miles.
The fear of 235 of my sisters ricochets throughout the night,
and I realize for the first time that silence is strong enough to strangle,
and as forceful as the ropes wrapped around my wrists.

He turns to me, all ebony skin in sharp contrast against
the undeniable crimson imprinted on hands that are worn with scars.
Tawny eyes betray his startling youth, and a fire lit by human ashes.
They carry the hurt of the ages, a perfect mirror of this wasteland—
as well as a regret so fiercely hot that it almost burns through me.

A moment—his Commander's back is turned toward the horizon;
he snatches my hands and slices savagely, aimlessly in the dark.
The short knife slips against my wrist; my breath catches
as I feel my lifeblood begin to slip from my veins,
as freely as the Ouémé River running in the springtime—
drops stain the sand, finding their way back to Mother Earth.

His voice is a gunshot in the dark as he whispers in broken Arabic,
"Ukhayyatun,"—little sister—"you run, and never look back."
Strong hands shove me into the unknown. I am off, a firework
into the darkness, aligning myself with the land mapped onto my heart,
looking only to Circinus and the call of the antelope to guide my way.

As I flee into the Nigerian midnight, to safety—
leaving behind my sisters and our captors in the forsaken wilderness,
I let myself cry for the unnamed boy from the other side
whom I hope to never cross paths with again in this wretched life.
I send up a prayer to God for mercy upon his soul
as I realize that I am not the only one who needs to be saved.

Second Year Revelations

I go to school for mathematics, but second year has taught me about so much more. Here are the things that I learned, inside and outside of the lecture halls. 

o1. People at university like meetings. They like holding meetings, talking about holding meetings, and talking during the meetings that they hold.

o2. Oh, and emails. People at university love emails.

o3. Sometimes your professors see the potential in you that you can't see in yourself, and for that I am grateful. I owe a world of thanks to the math professor who told me that my dreams are worth pursuing when I had convinced myself otherwise.

o4. Some of the classmates that I sit beside today are going to be great tomorrow. They are going to be mathematicians and doctors and teachers and physicists and leaders, and they are going to be amazing.

o5. Sometimes the most useful thing someone can do is not to give you any advice at all. Own your decisions, the resulting consequences and the gifts.

o6. It makes a world of difference if you do the readings and problem sets before class as opposed to after class.

o7. "If you think about it", you can come to any conclusion in the world. (This one's for you, Calculus 2502.)

o8. A sharp pencil makes all the difference.

o9. You don't have to be a genius to do math.

1o. If the problems that you're doing don't make you want to bang your head on the desk and scream and quit and cry, then you're not working on hard enough problems.

11. The people get stranger as you progress deeper into academia.

12. It's easy to forget about your own ability when you go to an incredible university and are constantly surrounded by so much talent, but never forget why you are here in the first place.

13. Sometimes you have to say no to people. That's okay.

14. University is just a big game as to who can be the most overcaffeinated, underslept, stressed and still make it on top.

15. Being ahead of the game is the best feeling in the entire world.

16. Your health really does come first. I learned this the really, really hard way. Don't do that.

17. Well-lit study space is the ultimate commodity.

18. Waking up fifteen minutes early in the morning can change your entire day for the better.

19. Never underestimate the incredible power of the perfect little skirt.

2o. Sweatpants are still not okay.

21. Everyone always needs a stapler, and no one ever has one.

22. It's about the experience. You're missing out if you don't have a sleepless night once in a while.

23. Context is everything.

24. You never see the whole story. The people who appear to be the most put-together are often those who are the most stressed out.

25. You don't always have to talk. Sometimes silence speaks louder.

26. The hardest decision is to take the high road, but it is one that you will never regret.

27. Wikipedia is an incredible math resource when you have the knowledge to comprehend what it says. Otherwise, it's just a bunch of nonsensical strung-together symbols and accurate yet ridiculously convoluted proofs.

28. If there exists a textbook, there exist solutions somewhere.

29. Cute cats make every PowerPoint presentation instantly better, no matter what the topic!

30. Everything in the entire world can be reduced to systems of linear equations if you try hard enough.

31. Being kind to perfect strangers will take you far in life.

32. You can only eat so much pizza before you have to start eating real food.

33. Stop substituting infinity into equations; nothing good ever comes out of it.

34. Punctuality is impressive, but it shouldn't have to be. We live in a culture that makes it okay to be late as long as you let someone know, but really, you still wasted fifteen minutes of someone else's life.

35. No one ever thinks "Oh, I wish I'd spent more time on Facebook." Ever.

36. The most important trait for success in math is not mental arithmetic, hard work or even talent; it's creativity (and sometimes a little bit of luck).

37. It isn't until you get deeper into school that you realize how vast the world is, how limited the scope of human knowledge is, and just how much you still have to learn. But the moment that you make that realization is quite enlightening.

38. You are more certain of your path at fifteen (fueled by blind confidence) than you are at twenty (fueled by the revelation of your own ignorance).

39. Some professors will teach you about math. Some will teach you about so much more.

4o. When in doubt, proof by induction. Also, thanks to one Discrete Structures professor, I will never again write, "Let P(n) be true."

41. The really cool thing about math is how you can take two seemingly unrelated concepts and come up with a beautiful relationship between them.

42. Real life would be simpler if we worked exclusively over the field of complex numbers. (Because then your characteristic polynomial would always split!)

43. Everyone here has something to teach you. Whether or not they're fun to talk to—well, that's a different story.

44. It is still only, ever, all about the chase.

45. It turns out that you can't just change the question to suit your needs, you actually have to answer the question.

46. Never underestimate the power of a well-placed "if and only if" statement.

47. There are all sorts of infinities (thanks, Real Analysis), but finiteness is just as essential, for humanity is finite.

48. Sometimes it's simply figuring out the right questions to ask. Everything else will fall into place.

an infinite war

I've been thinking about this whole God thing lately.
I've been reconsidering this whole God thing lately.
These past six months have shaken my faith.
But I heard "Oceans" today, and I heard this stunning song,
and I could hear your heart calling—
how timely, considering that Easter is coming up.
I'm still not sure of this life.
I'm still furious, and I still want answers.
But I want this Love more than ever.
This truth haunts me; it won't let me go.
And I find that maybe not all is lost.
I find that maybe I have never been more sure of anything in my life.
And I find that perhaps I am not too lost for you to find.
Maybe I am never too lost for you to find. 

Four Letter Words

                                        "Hope is our four letter word,"

                                        - OneRepublic, "Counting Stars"

"Four letter words" refer to words with a negative connotation—curse words, mostly. I'm sure you can come up with a list without too much creativity. So perhaps it seems counterintuitive to place "hope" in the same categories as these words, right? Maybe.

Hope is fertile. It keeps humanity going; it enables us to reach for new heights. But hope is also dangerous—and in that sense, it is powerful beyond measure. Hope can heal; hope can bring joy; hope can spark miracles. Hope can save lives; no one would deny its positive impact. But hope is also terrifying. Hope is powerful, and that alone is enough reason to fear it. Many people fear to pin their hopes too high because they are too familiar with dashed dreams and the disappointment that comes with misplaced hope. I know this—for the One Thing that I placed my faith in has been shaken to the core these past few months. So maybe it's not so crazy to consider hope a "four letter word."

But there is tomorrow. And there is progress. There is someone searching out there; demanding answers to humanity's cruelest mysteries. And as long as we are seeking, there is hope; alive and well. This universe is full of infinite secrets, miracles and revelations, and sooner or later, they will be ours. Hope belongs to those who look for answers—those that are just beyond our current comprehension, and also those that are ten years' worth of work away. But humanity is motivated by necessity as well as curiosity, and that is a combination to be reckoned with. The researchers, scientists and wonderers of our generation are constantly building on thousands of years of truth-seeking to continue finding answers (we're standing on the shoulders of giants, remember?), and so as long as there is darkness, there is hope. Maybe it's all we have, really. But it keeps us together; hanging on. Hope keeps us waiting; breathless—searching and seeking.

Hope makes this life worth living. 

The Haiku Series, Vol. 5

I don't write haikus for people. Be my exception. 

A. Stardust Waiting
two souls, patiently
sitting side by side, holding
wild hope in their hands (hearts)

J. 271828
blue eyes stare me down
wordless; across the crowded room
could we be so lucky?

R. Like Kindergarten
numbers + logic + laughter
and like lightning, we have found
friendship unbreakable

L. Wanderlust
the wit of the ages
and wisdom of one much older
yet a heart so very young

A Little Bit WISEr: National Conference 2014

"If you're the smartest person in the room, you're in the wrong room."

                                                                      - Richard Tirendi

I was lucky enough to spend this past weekend in Toronto as a delegate at the WISE National Conference run by the Women in Science and Engineering chapter at U of T. I had no idea what to expect, but waking up at 5:30 to catch the early bus into the city was definitely worth it, and the learning started early. First lesson: you can take every wrong turn and still make it to your destination. It's a good thing that strangers in Toronto are friendly! I convinced myself that I would get there early and have breakfast in a cute little café, but I wound up lost and at McDonald’s. Second lesson: Even when the entire city is different, McDonald’s is exactly the same. IT WILL NEVER FAIL YOU! (unlike, say, your Analysis T.A..)

In 36 hours, I met more female engineers, scientists and mathematicians than I have ever met in my entire life (yes, cumulatively). The one thing that they all had in common was their ambition: every single woman I met this weekend was doing something incredible, and each had a story to tell. You could turn to anyone and be struck by their talent. It was a throwback to a simpler time when it was perfectly alright to strike up conversation with a stranger; in fact, conversing with strangers was encouraged.

We heard from Kathy Lee, the CEO of General Electric. She told us about risk and reward, and demonstrated to us that you can be graceful, feminine, self-aware and absolutely at the top of your game, career-wise. I can only hope to be nearly as poised in twenty years. What I took away from her talk: you really can have it all if you’re willing to work for it. Don’t sacrifice and don’t settle for anything.

Ernestine Fu is the youngest venture capitalist in Silicon Valley, and a PhD student—barely older than I am, yet much more accomplished. I was excited to hear her speak based upon her insane credentials, yet surprisingly, the most striking thing that I learned from her talk was not on self-driving cars or 3D printing, but rather, how absolutely human we all are; she wasn’t the robotic, flawless computer that I had envisioned in my head—she was real, and she was so, so much more than her resumé. But then again, aren’t we all? Sometimes we forget that so easily.

Swati was the mirror image of every girl in the room that day—multi-talented and uncertain what to do with that gift when she was our age. The creator of a little technological beauty called Square (Google it if you must!), she changed her mind many times. As someone who is still struggling to choose her program for next year, this resonated with me. She told us to throw out our five-year plans and to simply see where life takes us next. For a room full of 150 ambitious women with type-A personalities, this was the ultimate challenge to us all.

The final—and my favourite—keynote came from a speaker who I was completely oblivious toward prior to her actually standing in front of me. Angie King is an Operations PhD candidate at MIT, and also everything that I want to be. I didn’t realize how excited I would be for her talk until her Pi-themed PowerPoint ("Impactful Data: Or How I Fell In Love with Math”) was actually staring me in the face. Listening to her describe her undergraduate experience as a female math major was like listening to someone narrate my life today, and much more articulately than I ever could. She emphasized her lack of female STEM professors and role models (her grand total? Zero!), and it made me realize how lucky I am to have  been taught by not only one, but two female mathematicians—a statistical improbability.

Angie commented on the odd experience of being one of the only girls in a higher math class and the contrast with non-STEM fields. My pure math classes at Western are typically 25% female (hello, Intermediate Linear Algebra II!), and though I’ve gotten used to often being the only girl in the room in Middlesex College, I didn’t truly realize what kind of camaderie and community I have been missing out on before being surrounded by female STEM majors this weekend. 

Angie also spoke on a curious note that has been nagging at me all year—being “the worst of the best”, struggling with impostor syndrome and feeling like a fraud amongst her talented classmates. This year I have had the experience of sitting down amongst some incredibly talented mathematicians and feeling so inferior—sometimes math is humbling as hell. This year I was tempted to switch programs into something where I wouldn’t have to try so hard, but math is one of the (admittedly few) things that I am willing to put aside my pride for. Angie's talk will stay with me forever— it turns out that you can be sociable, well-spoken, feminine and a brilliant mathematician; who knew? 

I am so, so glad that I went to WISE. It was amazing to (for the very first time in my life) be surrounded by ladies who could talk about multivariable calculus and commiserate over eigenvectors and subspaces (that never happens!). I didn’t know what I was missing out on until I spent time in a room full of some of the brightest female engineers, mathematicians and scientists, and it was both humbling and motivating to be considered amongst their ranks.

Every single woman I met this weekend turned around and surprised me with her talent and ambition. For me, WISE reaffirmed the need for women in STEM fields to support and encourage each other, as well as the necessity for us to pass down the torch and mentor each other whenever possible—because we each have so much to learn, yet also so much to share and teach each other.

I left the Li Ka Shing Knowledge Institute this weekend feeling humbled, inspired, and maybe a lot wiser than I was 36 hours ago. So here's a little math for you: 

36 hours * 150 female scientists/engineers/mathematicians * 200 kilometers * 9 talented keynotes = 1 life-changing conference

Taking a chance on WISE was the best decision that I have made so far this year—if you can make the choice to go next year, do it. I dare you.

Untitled

This coffee shop has the best ambiance and the worst Wifi. 

Sometime in the past week, the world turned into spring with the slightest hint of winter. It has been a week of endless studying, cold nights and one frustrating conversation after another. It has been a week that has tested me to the very limits of my capabilities for what is probably the first time ever.

It was an impulse decision that would lead me here tonight. I wasn’t expecting much when I made my way out of the cold and to the beckoning lights of the coffee shop, but it surprised me. A thermostat turned to a temperature that would usually be considered too warm and the background chatter of quiet conversation welcomed me, inviting me to stay a while. The coffee is bitter on my tongue, but it warms my hands and my heart.

There is an entire world out there beyond this, I know. On a Saturday night full of stars, somebody is falling in love for the first time. Someone is having their heart broken for the first time. Someone is enchanted by the gaze of a stranger across a crowded room, and someone is speaking the words on their mind and heart. Someone is probably just like me; watching and waiting and searching for answers to a million unasked questions. But in this moment, there is an entire world out there that doesn’t matter.

I sit alone with only my dreams to keep me company, along with words waiting to be put onto paper. It strikes me that perhaps I look strange to anyone who has been watching me as closely as I have been watching these strangers, but I’ve never been one to mind being alone—the curse and also the gift of introversion. I immerse myself into the conversation of a million people; it is rather curious to listen to strangers pouring out their life stories and the wishes of silenced hearts that they would ordinarily never dare to articulate. I wonder about the steps that brought them here tonight so that we would come to sit side-by-side in some alternate universe together.

And so the minutes tick by as I sit in the glow of a little coffee shop, a beacon of bright lights and cinnamon air, sparkling laughter and thoughtful hearts. And like a lighthouse in the darkest night, I find that maybe this night could not be more flawless.  

spellbound(ed)*

lately my mind has been on math.
but funny enough, i've been inspired by
a certain mathematician that i recently met,
to come to a particular conclusion:
talent enchants.
it captivates; it commands attention.
i don't care what you love,
but i love that you love it.
i love that it keeps you awake at night, thinking—
flushed with the breathlessness of ambition;
reeling with dreams and plans.
few things in the world are as compelling
as someone who is madly passionate about their craft,
whatever that happens to be—
words, music, art, math, faith; your choice.
talent takes an ordinary moment and
creates something extraordinary;
perhaps the most flawless charm of all,
a gift from the most divine,
driving humanity to chase beauty beyond ourselves—
captivating

*no, i haven't lost my mind. this is a math joke.

Sunrise (Revelations)

I wrote this short fiction piece around this time last year for a class, and it's been on my mind ever since. Here's finally finding the confidence to publish it. 

     I should not be here.

     Ladies don’t wander strange, beautiful, sparkling cities at night by themselves. Ladies don’t traipse around with strangers until daybreak. They don’t. But I am not interested in convention at the moment.

     He can go to hell.

< 3

“Anything less than mad, passionate, extraordinary love is a waste of time. There are too many mediocre things in life to deal with and love shouldn't be one of them.” 

                                                                           - Tiffanie DeBartolo

So, about this whole Valentine's Day business...

Usually I'm pretty apathetic about it all. This year I'm kind of just rolling my eyes, but hey, I appreciate the abundance of heart-shaped cookies as much as anyone does.

Someone asked me if I was sad that I don't have a valentine. I think they were expecting me to say yes (and burst into tears), but the truth is... not really.

You and I Tonight. The First Time. I Want Crazy. I'll Be.

What do they all have in common? They're songs overflowing with love, written by lovers, for lovers. And I want that. I've done mediocre love and wished that I hadn't, and I'm not settling for it again. I want the kind of love that you write songs and tell stories about. I want the kind of love that leaves you breathless and sleepless and makes you break all the rules. I want the kind of love that makes you sneak out at midnight and makes losing sleep worthwhile. I've never found that kind of love; I've never had love that challenged me to go the distance, and so it captivates me. But despite this, I am positive that it is out there, and that it is absolutely everything that it's cracked up to be.

So no, I'm not sad. But maybe I'm a dreamer.
And someday I'm going to find the nerve to say hello in this place. 

Nine(teen)

13-year-old me thought she had the world behind her
And thought she knew what she held dear
She never anticipated the storm to come

14-year-old me walked in the door with big expectations
Bright smiles, unguarded eyes
For the first day of the rest of her life

15-year-old me was a dreamer
And just like all other 15-year-olds,
She fell for all of the illusions

16-year-old me thought she had all the answers
And thought she knew what would last forever
Only to find that she would miscount the stars

17-year-old me had her illusions shattered
And watched the dark skies many nights,
Starless—lightless; a little bit hopeless

18-year-old me asked a lot of big questions
And set her dreams on fire with the challenge
For the world to watch them burn bright

19-year-old me knows how little she truly knows
Staying up all night, wide awake and dreaming
About the revelations of tomorrow