Summer clothes in Boston

The psychedelic floral dress returns

This time last year, I made a post of the outfits I wore to Germany. With the exception of two new tank tops -- for school organizations that I belong to -- and two shirts from Uniqlo, I have made no changes to my summer wardrobe.

Which is not to say that I will not buy anything on my return to Boston (currently escaping the humidity by going back to SF). I've evaded much of the heat by staying in the hospital freezing under the AC or burning up under lead in the OR.

linen shirt - Uniqlo | linen shorts - GAP | boat shoes - Sperry | watch - Casio

I finally bought this dark blue linen shirt from Uniqlo. I originally thought I would venture for something light-colored, but I am a creature of habit and hate the way light colors look on me. It's perfectly comfortable on even the most hellishly hot (and humid) days in Boston. The loose fit is very airy and helps the fabric not stick to my skin, and generally makes the thought of summer a bit more bearable. I wear an XS here, and generally use shoulder width to determine XXS, XS, or S in shirts.

Linen dresses in Muji

My hunt for the linen dress continues, though I will probably buy the second one (middle and right images) if it goes on sale. Sometimes I have to go places and do things where short shorts are not appropriate, even on unbearably hot days. Despite all the time I spent looking online for a good linen dress, this Muji one may be the most accessible. Granted, it does look like a dark blue potato sack unless I tie something around my waist (drawstring from my shorts shown above), but I was generally very impressed with it in the fitting room.

Hospital scrubs

A very, very kind chief resident gave me three pairs of scrubs in my size when I told her I had gotten mine from Goodwill. I won't be regularly in the hospital (much less the OR) this semester unless I have specific shadowing arrangements, so these scrubs will just have to wait until M3. But I would be remiss to leave this post without acknowledging that I spent most of my summer thus far wearing these. Not particularly flattering, but very comfortable.

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I completely neglected this blog in the past few weeks. This post was kind of a cop-out because the posts that I had planned involved me going through tons and tons of photos (Germany posts from last summer, more gardens, more hiking). I also recently had an inexplicable hankering to write something more about personal style, wardrobe building, and fashion-related. One factor may be a pretty black dress that I basically impulse-bought off Poshmark. It hasn't arrived yet, but I hope it suits me.

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The other thing that I wanted to examine was this notion of practicing minimalism or living with less or low/zero waste. I don't necessarily categorize myself as a "minimalist," but I have drunk more and more of the Kool-aid, read more and more of the "discourse" around it on Reddit/Instagram/blogs, and feel more equipped to use it as a tool to construct my own ethics about consumption, ownership, and...other stuff. If there's one thing I loathe about minimalism blogs, it's when they get preachy and take the moral super-high ground.

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And my last thought of the night is that I had a conversation with some of my friends about shopping. None of us "go shopping" as a hobby, but we were having some premature worries about having to build up a professional wardrobe in time for clerkships. I'm still sticking to my guns about wardrobe planning and restricting the number of clothes that I'll buy, but I am planning ahead now.

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And that's it. My next post will probably be a photographic summary of one year in Boston. One year already! Time really does fly.

More thoughts on diary writing

Here is my second post about diary writing. The first one can be found here and concerns the practicality of the habit -- how I do it, with what, and how often.

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I knew that this second post was going to be a bit more abstract than the first so I'm not too sure about the format. Thus, a looser structure is indicated.

Reasons why I write in a diary

I touched briefly on why I began writing, but not why I continued to write, and why I will continue to write every day, once a day, ad infinitum. To be honest, I don't have a concrete answer. It's become habit at this point where I feel discomfort in forgetting to write or not writing adequately. Writing at the end of the night unburdens me from the thoughts I've had that day. It's a conveniently private outlet for the daily stresses and emotions, which I feel could otherwise build up to unhealthy levels. At a more basic level, I write every day because memory is unreliable and writing things down helps me keep them.

I also like my penmanship, and use my diaries as a way to indulge myself there. I also recently bought a fountain pen and ink.

It's not journaling

And I get a bit defensive about that, in real life when people find out about this practice and internally when I see blog posts, YouTube videos, think-pieces, Pinterest posts, etc about journaling. It's a bit of an irrational aversion to the term, but I know that others may see these posts here and code my diary writing as journaling.

To me, journaling suggests deeper emotional content and creativity. A lot of journaling fads I've seen on the internet seem juvenile and hokey, but that's just me being judgmental about things that don't concern me.

If anything, I downplay my emotions in my diary and contrive to keep my entries restrained and cold. I can easily dissect my thoughts and emotions on paper, but seldom let emotions themselves guide my writing. Long story short, I still think I have issues expressing myself and being vulnerable in my diary, but that I really could benefit from taking the 'journaling' road of emotional catharsis. But then again, I do get some kind of catharsis after writing.

It's not meditation, either

Until I think about it.

I'm not really a follower of mindfulness or meditation or any number of techniques and products and self-help media that will help me achieve them. However, once I peel back the pretty social media influencer veneer, I see its value. I really think that setting time aside in the day to be alone with your own thoughts is important. Quiet time for reflection and self-awareness, protected time where self-centeredness and selfishness are mandatory.

For some people, meditation is the way to do this. For me, I need to write it down.

How has it helped me?

I don't know exactly. I have been writing in my diary since I was a teenager and don't know any other way of life. Writing about anger and interpersonal issues helps me prevent arguments and confrontations -- by the way, my cardinal sin of choice is, and has always been wrath. I think I'm a more even-keeled and disciplined person for it, but I have no way of telling that.

However, one thing I do know for certain is that daily diary entries help me identify my personality traits and flaws. I know myself fairly well. It's all written there.

I'm not enlightened

That goes without saying. However, I think that people may erroneously think that writing about yourself will make you a better person. I believe that I would not know myself as well or be as comfortable with self-criticism (or take self-criticism too harshly) if I didn't write in my diary, but I don't know if that has had led to distinct changes in my behavior or personality.

The Lord of Three Realms

The blog and the diary fill different niches and serve different purposes. The blog is a more longitudinal view of myself and my interests and was created explicitly to help me become a better, more advanced version of myself. The Lord of Three Realms as an imaginary entity lives at the end of the staircase of self-improvement. LL versions I through XIV may be distinct and show growth, but the daily variations in the writer are too small to appreciate or care about.

The next post

Let's talk about you instead

Let the sunshine in

For someone who does keep a daily diary, I would think that keeping a regular blog would be a piece of cake. Evidently not.

Here's a collection of ramble-thoughts accumulated over the past month, with my reviews/impressions of two productions I saw recently.

It's times like this where I wish I kept some sort of longer-scale record (ex. a blog) during freshman year, since my worries now are just a continuation of those from 2013. On my plate: academic achievement, letters of recommendation, med school personal statement, med school this and med school that. 2013: will I be able to volunteer at the Free Clinic, will I be able to find a research lab? 2015: am I an adequate de-facto leader at the Free Clinic, will I be able to conduct my own research project effectively?

My worries stem from the fact that I am applying to med school this summer, my ultimate dream for most of my life, my one and only North Star. This situation has been made more dreadful (not dreadful as in plummy, archaic dreadful, but dreadful as in it fills me with some kind of dread and anxiety and eagerness) because my boyfriend has almost exact opposite problems (they stem from indecision and uncertainty in his career goals).

Anyhow, these things, as well as my recent feelings of scholastic mediocrity have put me in a sort of dreary, gloomy mood. To combat this melancholy, I talk to my roommate, my friends, my boyfriend, go visiting. And for something completely new: I went to two shows (a concert and a musical) and they were spectacular.

Bach Mass in B Minor

One of the last of Bach's compositions, the Mass in B Minor (BWV 232) is a complete setting of a complete Latin Ordinary Mass, consisting of the usual movements:

1. Missa (Kyrie and Gloria)
2. Symbolum Nicenum (Credo)
3. Sanctus
4. Osanna, Benedictus, Agnus Dei, and Dona Nobis Pacem

At the risk of sounding too weird about synesthesia, B minor is a grim, stately, blue key, and through it, the Mass achieved a level of cosmic grandeur that I can't attempt to express here. I attended the University Chamber Chorus and UC Berkeley Baroque Orchestra's performance of this masterpiece, and I don't think my evening could have been better. As a note, with each movement, the Latin lyrics and translations were projected above the stage, which deepened my understanding for this musical wonder.

The Ordinary Latin Mass spans a wide spectrum of the relationship between Man and God, and it spoke pretty strongly to this agnostic. Solemn supplication and mourning for the sins and suffering of Man and Christ (B minor) yield to the hope for deliverance and miracle by the grace of God (D major).

A few of my favorite movements: Kyrie eleison, Christe eleison, Cum Sancto Spiritu, Crucifixus, Et resurrexit, Et expecto, Sanctus, Agnus Dei, Dona nobis pacem

Hair

Not as much to say on this one. AB (roommate, CivE) and CB (EECS) and I went to Barestage's production of this musical that CB's roommate was in. A summary: Vietnam War draftee meets a tribe of long-haired hippies and they sing about society and their time, youth and their struggle to find their place and purpose. Given Berkeley's history of protest and involvement in activism during the Free Speech Movement, Civil Rights Movement, and anti-Vietnam movement, I was already engaged with the material.

Interesting thing about Hair is that it was written and debuted on Broadway in 1969, and I was astounded to see how meta their entire analysis of that time was. Anyhow, the female vocals completely hit me, and gave me some genuine chills. The playbill included a lengthy introduction about the modern interpretation of some of the problematic content, including racism and cultural appropriation in the script and staging.

A few of my favorite songs:  Aquarius, I'm Black/Ain't Got No, L.B.J., Hare Krishna, Let the Sunshine In

Afterwards, we got doughnuts, explored an underground parking lot, and watched CB fly a fighter jet around Vinewood, shooting missiles at the city (Grand Theft Auto V, a favorite pastime of the EECS house). A good night.

And now, the two of them together: the Mass began with the choir lined behind the audience in a pitch-black concert hall. One light was shone onto the conductor, and at her first baton drop, the hall rang with the first note of the Kyrie eleison, and it was as if a choir of righteous, solemn angels had descended onto our mortal congregation. And truly, it was a surprise, and nearly got me God-fearing. On the other side, Hair ends in a surprisingly somber way, and the final song, 'Let the Sunshine In,' read as a desperate plea for peace, love, and understanding -- and mercy. It was a demonstration of tragic solidarity (no spoilers here) and the cast took from the stage running helter-skelter to reassemble behind the audience, ending the song without musical accompaniment.

So, perfect bookends. The symbolism was not long-coming; not to mention, Hair ended, too with dim lighting.

Kyrie eleison -- Lord, have mercy. I still think about these two shows. What an experience.