That Rain

It’s raining outside.
But not just any rain:
That rain.
You know, THAT rain.
That rain that’s almost too light to be rain,
But  too rainy to not be rain.
That cold, miserable rain.
That frigid, mid-Autumn rain.
That rain that steals every bit of warmth from the air.
Yes. That rain.
That’s the kind of rain that’s raining outside.

Minor Dilemma

(Originally published to the Cornell Alumni Magazine Student Blog on Sept 7, 2012.)

Choosing a major is one of the most important decisions in a college student’s life. Luckily, I knew that I wanted to major in human development before I even enrolled—and two years later, I couldn’t be happier with my decision. Choosing a minor, however, has proved to be more of a challenge.

Now, I know that a minor is far from mandatory, but it’s something I’ve always expected to do; concentrating in only one field did not jibe with my Renaissance woman aspirations. After learning that my college didn’t allow double-majoring, I figured that a minor was the next best thing. But the hard part has been choosing the subject. So far, I’ve seriously considered a half dozen minors, from design to art history to information science.

The “minor dance” always starts the same way: I hear about a subject that sounds interesting, research the requirements, pursue it, and then change my mind. Every time. There are so many great minors available that, if I could, I would dedicate an extra year of college to completing three of them.

The semester I spent studying communication is the closest I’ve come to sticking with a minor. Things were going pretty well—until the English department introduced my dream minor, creative writing. And because it has fewer requirements than communication, I can even pursue a second minor: film.

As of now, I’m pretty confident that this will be where my search ends. But who knows? Game design is beginning to look intriguing . . .

The Invention of the Wheel

The smartest man in all the land,
Was given a special task.
Of his hand, by royal command,
For help, the King did ask.

“Use your head and build,” he said,
“A thing to help me travel.
Or I’ll behead and kill you dead.
Your life I will unravel.”

The man, confused, looked down bemused,
Pondering this challenge to meet.
Then he mused, (more than a bit amused,)
“Had not the King two feet?”

The King, in disdain, went on to explain,
What he wanted the man to make:
“Build me a crane that travels terrain,
My belongings and I to take.”

So, the man worked hard ‘til his hands were scarred,
To keep his side of the deal.
But his attempt was marred with utter disregard,
When, accidentally, he invented the wheel.

“This wheel is great, I must relate
My accomplishment to the King.”
So he rolled it straight to the royal estate
And to His Majesty the wheel did he bring.

The King, when he saw, nearly dropped his jaw
At the sight of this rolling wonder.
And still in awe, he lead a great “Hurrah!”
That ‘neath he and his stuff the wheel could go under.

Richard Cory

(an imitation of the original poem by E.A. Robinson)

When Richard Cory walked to and fro,
We townspeople watched his movements in awe.
He was the town’s most favorite beau,
Likened, quite nearly, to a demi-god.

And he possessed a quiet confidence,
And treated all men with their due respect.
No one could maintain his indifference,
When he spoke, causing women great affect.

And rich Sir Cory had want of nothing,
And was well learned in both art and science.
Not one I knew could, him- or herself, bring,
To say, “I dislike him,” in defiance.

So, we returned to our humble dwellings,
And dreamed of living Richard Cory’s life.
And Richard Cory intent on quelling,
Ended all he’d ever been, with a knife.