Around the Horn

I picked up my parents at the Ithaca airport Saturday morning.  My brother Robert and I walked to Schoellkopf to attend Convocation, where David Plouffe, senior campaign manager for Barack Obama, commended the graduating class for shaping the election and promoting change for the future.  Plouffe also gave a shoutout to my friend CJ, who served as Convocation Chair, and his recent unsuccessful foray with Introduction to Wines.  In other words, he didn’t pass (sorry, CJ).  The Lins then set off on a full day of receptions and get togethers.  The weather was sunny and humid.  “I didn’t expect Ithaca to be this warm,” my mom remarked, as she trailed 25 feet behind Robert and I.  Apparently her solution to the heat is walking at a snail-slow pace while holding her handbag over her face to block the sun: an interesting sight.

Rise and shine!  Drowsy from the red-eye flight…

…cleaned up at the Johnson Museum

Sunday was a whirlwind of caps, gowns, diplomas, flowers, and balloons.  All the graduates assembled on the Arts Quad before the procession started around 10AM.  With overcast skies, I was glad that it was cooler, since sitting in a black robe that doubles as a compact sauna is not an ideal situation for anyone.  During the procession, my heart dropped when we walked through the Day Hall parking lot.  There, professors flanked both sides in their Harry Potter-esque cap and gown regalia, clapping and congratulating us on this special occasion.  It really put our achievement–graduation from a university–on a much more meaningful scale.  It was a bittersweet sendoff as we progressed to the stadium.  I don’t think I’ve ever seen Schoellkopf packed (it apparently has a capacity of 40,000), but it was teeming with family and friends Sunday morning:

Meanwhile, on the other side, Robert reported that the scene at Schoellkopf resembled the opening ceremony of the Olympic Games.  “And now…the College of Arts and Sciences!”

President David Skorton addressed the graduates, asking us to take charge and embrace change.  With our liberal arts foundation and Cornell support, we have the skills and moral character that’ll ensure success in the future.  Then, one by one, the degrees were conferred.  Most notable in show were the Vet grads, who cleverly blew up arm-long plastic gloves to double as those thunder sticks you get at basketball games.  When Skorton mentioned “swine flu,” the flurry of blow-up arms drew a huge laugh.  We sang the Alma Mater as an entire class (I teared up a little bit), and before I knew it, it was over.

It still hasn’t hit me yet.  In a few months, I’ll be moving into an apartment in Manhattan and working in finance, a response which drew a lot of “get us out of this mess” and “finance…oh, I see” comments this past week.  I will be returning to JPMorgan this August, working in their Sales and Trading division, undoubtedly entering a field that thrives on high stress and quick thinking.  This show-no-mercy masochistic environment gets me going, and while I may be hitting the floor early in the morning, working hard every second until evening, I know it’ll be a fun ride.

I have many people to thank in this last (and rather long) blog entry.  First, to my family.  It was my dad who pushed for me to apply to Cornell in the first place.  Although we are separated for most of the year, the support my parents have given me over my 22 years, their respect for the “college experience” and their personal American Dreams have shaped me into the optimistic and direct Cornellian I am today.  To Robert, for becoming a new close friend instead of the pesky brother that makes fun of me…oh, wait…

Next, to friends old and new.  Special shoutout to my 219 Linden roommates (Katy, Hannah, Cath, Court, Michelle, Jill, Kara), some SHpecial friends, my KDs, fellow tour guides, and while it looks like I’m pulling names from a baby book, in no specific order: Jen, Danny, Frankel, Dave, Paz, Schneida, Steve, Scott M., Alex, Ryan, Bryant, Ray, Krebs, James, Jess, Sarah, and I’m missing about 50 other names–please forgive me, and the really nice coffee lady at CTB who always gets my medium hazelnut coffee…apparently her name is Paula.  To friends that I met from the first week of freshman year, and others I met this past year, with so little time left.  Regardless of duration, the bonds are rock solid and long term.  I’m talking about us ladies sitting in rockers knitting together when we’re grandmothers.  Not to ride on any stereotypes, but the guys, well, I don’t foresee us knitting, but perhaps playing golf or something else.  You all have changed my perspective on life and taught me to see things differently.  I’ll cherish our fun nights out, the relaxed nights in, the impromptu discussions, and heart-to-hearts.   While I’ll be able to see a lot of you next year in NYC, to everyone else spreading out in the states (or even going overseas), we are the generation of GChat, email, Facebook, and Skype, and by George, I hope we stay in touch.

Thanks to my elder mentors.  To my professors, who have instilled the importance of learning and curiosity. To Lisa, who got me this blogging job and put up with my antics: you probably think I’m crazy.  To Hilary, my rowing coach for 3 years: thank you for taking a doe-eyed freshman under your wing and giving me knowledge, faith, and the challenge of the sport of rowing, which I look on as one of my most memorable experiences.  To Taiya and Peggy, my tour guiding supervisors, I will definitely miss the hubbub in Day Hall.  Even to my finance gurus at my upcoming job (Rita, DBD, and others, all Cornell grads!), I appreciate your mentoring and look forward to August.

To my readers (Matt, Drew, this is for you):  Thank you for your continued support and comments.  While I was sure that the banality of my routine college lifestyle would be as boring as watching summer TV reruns, I’m glad there was something in my blog that willed the faithful few to keep up with my life.  Maybe it was the pictures…

And finally, thank you, Cornell, for the most amazing 4 years of my life.  Leisurely, I will miss Stella’s half-off burgers, late night pizza from Sindbad’s, Cornell Dairy ice cream, pitchers at CTB, fun nights at Rulloffs and the Palms, Olin Cafe, runs through the Plantations, Cayuga Inlet, the chimes, muffins and soup from Temple of Zeus, the driving range, and of course, Wegmans.  Let’s not forget the prelims, problem sets, papers, the bitter wind, and the hills.  You have challenged me, excited me, and given me hope and opportunity.  I leave the Hill with a sweet taste in my mouth and an enthusiastic smile.  I’ll be back, but for now, I’m ready for the next chapter in my life.

As a former Big Red student athlete, it was always hard to make it to other sporting events other than your own, since juggling 6 practices a week, weekend regattas, and a full course load leaves little time to breathe.  However, this past Saturday, I had a full bodied experience off the water and turf–as a Big Red fan.

Cornell Athletics is having an amazing spring season.  From Wrestling, Polo, and Lacrosse, to Gymnastics, Softball, and Basketball, the words “vying”, “clinching”, “Nationals”, “NCAAs”, and “finals” are splashed all over the Daily Sun sports articles.  From early morning to late afternoon, I traversed campus with my friend Lauren (who plays on the Women’s Basketball team), hitting up five different Big Red athletic events to cheer on some of my close athlete friends.

9:00AM
Location:  Collyer Boathouse
Event: Women’s Rowing vs. Dartmouth
Katy, Matt, and I woke up bright and early (after a fun Friday night out)to see our 5 rommates at their only home race of the season against the Big Green.  It was definitely hard for me to watch the races go by, since I would much rather be in the boat in the chaotic heat of the moment, rather than watch the shells go by.  Strong finish by the novices, and some great family support for the Seniors.

12:00PM
Location: Schoellkopf Stadium
Event:  Women’s Lacrosse vs. Notre Dame
After a pit stop at the Ithaca Farmer’s Market for some breakfast burritos, I met up with Lauren and Brian to watch the beginning of Women’s Lacrosse.  The Notre Dame team finished first in their league, and the Big Red were staving off the Fighting Irish, as we watched the Big Red surge to a 6-3 lead in the first half.  The final score?  11-9, Irish.  Things to note:  the very active communication among the players, and the baller coach that was just as engaged with the game as the actual lax-ers themselves.

12:30PM
Location:  Niemand-Robison Softball Field
Event:  Women’s Softball vs. Dartmouth
This was a best of 3 match for the Ivy Championship.  The Big Red sailed through the first game of the double header, winning 4-0.  The second game was not as great; Dartmouth won 5-1.  Jessy Berkey, a friend of mine from middle school, held down right field with some awesome pop-up catches.  I played softball in high school, and it was great to hear the popping of the gloves and the metal clangs of the bats once more. And stepping in remnants of sunflower seed.

2:25PM
Location:  The Robert J. Kane Sports Complex
Event: Track & Field vs. various schools
My friend Jessica runs the 400m hurdles.  And fast.  From the gun, Jessica smoked out the competition, jumping over the hurdles with ease, crossing the line a good few seconds ahead of the pack.  My other J friend, Jeomi, is a jumping goddess, but decided not to compete at the meet due to a sore hamstring, or what she called a “hammy”.

3:00PM
Location:  Schoellkopf Stadium
Event:  Men’s Lacrosse vs. Hobart
The last home game for the seniors (although I just found out that the NCAA first round against Hofstra is this Saturday at home; I will be there), I finally made it to a Men’s Lacrosse game.  Watching it live is a lot more exciting than on TV…although still just as hard to see where the ball is going.  Almost as quick, but a little more visible, are the players; watching my friends Max and Pierce sprint across the field like rockets, they would definitely smoke me out in a 40 yd. dash.  Not unless I fall to the field first from injuries sustained from a 70 mph solid rubber lacrosse ball hitting my shin.  I am cringing at the thought.  The Men squeaked by with a 8-7 win over Hobart.

At the end of the day, it felt good to see what other Big Red athletes are up to, how different sports train and play, and to see how bad my sandal tan could get.

Crew is one of the most team-oriented sports, and one of the most practice intensive.  Spring racing season consumes most of the semester, but I wouldn’t be able to survive without my housemates.  Like I’ve mentioned earlier, I live in the women’s crew house.  Out of the 9 ladies living in the Bat Cave, 8 are on the team.  This brings for great carpooling perks and many fond memories.   Because we spend so much time practicing together, no one else can really understand the bonds we form from early morning practices, 13 hour bus rides to South Carolina, all towards the 7 minutes of racing each week.  Crew isn’t all hard work and no fun–the house has had its fair share of Wegmans raids, movie/tv marathons, and girls nights out as well.  In the end, no matter what boat I’m racing, the best feeling is knowing that I’m part of an effort to make the team go faster week to week, and spending time with the most dedicated and caring group of Amazonian women.

Spring Break ‘08 got a sun-filled facelift.  The varsity women escaped to Clemson, SC for a week of training and our first scrimmage race against Clemson.  Got another raccoon-tan in, and an opportunity to roll around in the sand!

This year’s winter training trip destination was sunny and magical Orlando, Florida.  After the debacle that was the Austin Ice Storm 2007, I packed for the wind chill, only to be met with 70-80 degree sunny weather every day.  Other than the huge temperature gap, our accommodations in Orlando were slightly different as well.  While we had plush hotel rooms in Austin, TX, the Women’s Rowing team called Camp Ithiel (in Gotha, FL) our home for 10 days.  Yes, we stayed in a Bible Camp, one huge room full of 30 bunk beds and two showers.  I was initially terrified since I haven’t slept on anything but a feather mattress and now I would be catching z’s on suspicious green half-mattress-pads.  Plus, the fact that we were situated in the middle of nowhere, with only a Wal-mart over a mile away, I only feared that each day would drag on due to boredom.

But, I can’t believe the trip is over already.  We practiced in near-perfect conditions twice a day, on lakes surrounded by beautiful water-front homes.  Orlando was perfect to row since there are a series of lakes all connected by channels.  Each day, we would go lake hopping, rowing across lakes, racking up mileage, and exploring uncharted lake territory.  Not to be stalkerish or anything, but we also frequently rowed and visited Shaq’s house, a palatial monstrocity at the end of one of the larger lakes.

During our downtime, Camp Ithiel was just like, well, summer camp.  All the rowers would return from practice and eat from the dining hall, sun tan out by the dock (there’s a pond), fish for perch and sunfish, entertain ourselves with movies and boardgames.  Sometimes, it’s the simple things in life that make for a very fulfilling trip.  Having all 30 girls living together was initially uncomfortable (on the first night, the person next to me needed a breathe-right strip STAT), but we eventually all became so exhausted from training that everyone conked out for the night at 9:30 pm.  And, since we had such tight living quarters, the team bond strengthened throughout the trip.  We accomplished a lot during our ten days in Gotha, I have no doubt that we’ll be returning next year.

This weekend, all three varsity crews made their way down to Princeton for the annual Princeton Chase, one of the big fall regattas. While I should be ecstatic to revisit the palatial estate that is the Princeton Boathouse, I swear this building has it in for me, because the past two times I’ve been to the BH, I’ve had the worst luck.

My first time shouldn’t really count, since my run-in with the BH ended before I even left Ithaca; this was the only time in my novice year that I did not get a boat to race in. But no worries, my missed chance at Princeton left me antsy to return the following fall. So the second time was last year; I was pumped to race, Daddy Lin was also excited to attend his first regatta. Everything seemed fine and dandy until actual race day, when I found out that my event was cancelled due to wind. And all I got was one picture to remember Fall 2006:

On Saturday, I was rarin’ to go. Third time’s a charm, right? We arrived on Saturday, rigged our boats, and went out for a row. The sun was shining, the wind was calm, and all was good. Just when my boat was finishing their high-stroke rate piece, I see a tiny brown point sticking out of the water. Crap. This could only mean two things: harmless branch or colossal submerged log.

You can guess what it was. I had Kara get out of the boat to check if the skeg/rudder were still attached, and if the deathly log poked a hole in the boat. Skeg and rudder were still there, and the hull felt alright, so we rowed back to the dock with no problem. A few of the lightweight men were also racing this shell, so we hopped out and hot-seated the boat.

The boys rowed back and lifted the boat out of the water with a water-filled stern. Yep, that sucker popped a tiny hole. After a patch-up job, it looked like the boat would hold up for the race on Sunday. It did…sort of. When my crew lifted the boat out of the water, we soaked ourselves with 6 gallons of Carnegie Lake. Thank you, Princeton.

The granddaddy of all regattas. 55 events, 7500 athletes. 200,000 spectators lining the Charles River, watching your every stroke, hearing every call. All I thought about this week was “Crap! I don’t want to be the one responsible for messing up this race.” You see, the HOCR, as exciting as it is for rowers, is an absolute nightmare for most coxswains. The sheer number of regatta spectators requires yelling “HEADS UP” every 2 seconds, making sure that your boat doesn’t spear a pedestrian. There is rowing equipment/gear everywhere, and you have to be on your toes, ready to act at a moment’s notice. Mind you, this is all before the boat even gets on the water. The number one challenge of the HOCR is the course itself. See below:

So there’s the steering, and of course, the need for speed. The goal in my boat was the finish in the top 10 of the Women’s Championship 8 event, the last one of the regatta. This one would be the grandmommy of events, with the US and Canadian National Teams competing against all our Division I rivals.

With so many outlets for messing up, everything about the race worked in our favor. After a few rough finishes in the previous regattas, our boat was to start at the end of the pack, #34 out of 39. However, being in the back only pumped our boat up even more; the eight ladies in the boat were hungry for some crews and ready to pass boats and GO FAST. While previous HOCR weekends were wet and freezing, Boston was beaming in the 70-degree temperatures on Sunday. We were all giddy with the increased production of Vitamin D, I’m sure that had something to do with our race. The one thing that helped our boat the most was the overall support. About half the women’s team showed up to the regatta, armed and ready with their Big Red support, screaming for us down the course. I remember at some points in the race, hearing “GO RED! CORNELL!” and other cheers of that nature.

If I could describe the race, it would be a combination of rats running around in a maze, and a covert sneak attack. We managed to reel in Lehigh and Rutgers, passing Dartmouth in the final few strokes. The sneak attack part was making sure that the boat was on the shortest course. My coach Hilary mentioned that above all else, the key to steering a good course is the take the inside for every turn. I hugged the buoy lines along the turns like there was no tomorrow, ensuring that any other crews within the vicinity of our boat would not be able to squeeze in. Not that squeezing in should be a problem, since we were hauling through the course anyway.

We finished 15th out of 39 boats. And with bow #34, we had a 19 place improvement and an automatic bid for the Charles next year. Sweet!!

Homecoming! The pessimist could say that this is the one day out of the year when 1,000 Cornellians (instead of 200) follow the Big Red in football. However, Homecoming brings about a whole other circle of Cornellians: the alumni. This is the weekend where the younger and young-at-heart alumni make the trek up to the Hill to reunite with friends, grill some burgers and hotdogs, and reminisce about the good ol’ days.

Saturday morning brought on skits and some racing. All the crews were out in full force vying for the prized Schwartz Cup. So, while the junior boat didn’t do so hot in the actual race, we won the “best costume” Schwartz Cup, which Cathleen now has proudly displayed on her bookshelf. Cathleen was integral in coming up with the junior skit’s theme: Beauty and the Beast. However, the best part was seeing all the alumni come back, including Alexa, the women’s captain from two years ago and also my big-big-big sister in my sorority. The 1989 National Championship boat also came too, and I woke up early Sunday morning just to watch the ladies go out for a short row on Cayuga.

Come night time, I had another pleasant reunion…this time being Cooper, my quasi-interest from last semester. Before the ladies were ready to head out for a night on the town, Cooper texted that he had flown in for Homecoming and was hanging out in Collegetown with his friends. My heart definitely skipped a beat, but then sank knowing that he would probably be at the bars (no, he would be) and I had lots of other get-togethers to stop by. Finally, after 1 am (the bars closed then), Cooper asked my whereabouts. After we played catch up, Cooper had to peace and fly back to NYC. At 3:30 am. So, it was a few short hours, but hanging out with Cooper was great. We just picked up where we left off back in May (holy maleezus, 5 months ago?!). Felt pretty darn good to see a close friend.

I’m heading off to Boston this weekend for the Head of the Charles.  Yikes!  It should be fun.

So, while most Cornellians were home catching up with friends and/or stocking up on sleep, the Women’s Rowing Team had a special treat Sunday morning: our first fall race! We all woke up in the wee hours, rolled onto a bus to Rochester, and raced in the Head of the Genesee. Here’s a nice overhead picture of my boat. I’ve highlighted a la Perez Hilton, maybe going a little too far:

I coxed my 8 through a morning 5K race and an afternoon 1500m sprint piece. After our weekly Saturday 5K races with the men’s crews on our own Cayuga Inlet, we finally got a chance to match up with crews from other Division I schools (Syracuse, Buffalo, Radcliffe, Penn) and Division III schools (Williams, Colgate, Cayuga Inlet friends at Ithaca College). All the ladies in the boat were intense and eager to pass some crews during the race. The result? Some nice hardware. It’s too bad we didn’t get to keep the cup…

Michelle (my coxswain roommate) coxed the winning four, picking up another gold medel for the Big Red. We got back to Ithaca just before the sun set. After unloading our trailer, Caitlin (my roommate and captain) yelled out “Michelle and Jen, start stripping!” Within 3 seconds of getting down into my unisuit, I was swinging up and away into the lake:

What a way to top off Fall Break!

So, I have a car on campus. This has got to be one of the best things my parents have done for me so far in college, next to saving me from drowning in debt after school. The stars must be in alignment. I stick out like a sore thumb, driving around Ithaca with a California license plated car, mainly to practice and to make grocery runs. The day that I decide to drive to class will be one of my most shameful and I am adamant about not falling into that lazy trap. Although after making this vow, my roommate immediately retorted “Just wait until next semester. One word: SNOW.”

However, all good things have their pitfalls, or potholes.

First things first: road in Ithaca are treacherous. The potholes are large, the hills are steep, the suspension on my car is shot from having to clunk up and down thanks to the pot trenches. Some roads aren’t paved either, and my worst nightmare is running over rocks to hear *PFFT* or whatever sound a popped tire makes. Maybe that’s just in the movies…

Parking. Since having a car next semester is still up in the air, I opted out of renting parking space in Collegetown. This leaves the 24 hour parking along-the-street option, which is not a big problem if you drive your car everyday (which daily practice at the boathouse helps out with). Usually, I move my car to go to practice and come back after, find a spot, repeat the next day. However, I’m hesitant to drive to the library or any other Central/North campus destination later in the evening because the chances of finding a parking spot after 8 pm decreases significantly, to zero. People also need to learn how to park. Ever drive by a street, see a great spot that would otherwise be PERFECT, but the only thing separating you from utter happiness is that car with a 6 foot radius of air cushion? If you just moved up 2 feet, bro, life would be good for the both of us. By the way, thanks to this daily street-parking stress, I am kickass proficient at parallel parking now. There are a few marks from some lovetaps I’ve had with other cars, hopefully Daddy Lin won’t ever find out about those…

All things aside, some of the best college moments are made while in motion. Whether it’s blasting “Ticks” on the radio, or driving downtown with friends to catch up, fourwheelin’ it around Ithaca is the thing to do.