Registering for my Future

Everyone told me college wouldn’t be easier, it’s only four more years (well three and a half now) before I’m thrust into the real world to live my life. Yet registering for next semester was way more complicated than I thought it would be. The requirements in college are different from high school, but I actually enjoyed this opportunity for me to see the various classes all the disciplines offered. My advisor gave me some pretty good advice, “Take something that interests you.” So many times the news reports the current industry booming and parents drive their parents towards pursuing a career in those successful industries, but I think it’s up to every student to figure out what they truly love to do and how they can turn that passion into a life. I could take something I never considered before, to see where my other interests may lie. I browsed the system and quickly found a multitude of classes I was interested in and began looking at how they would fit into my schedule and back-up schedule since there was absolutely no guarantee I would be lucky enough to get every class I wanted.

Registering was organized by those with the most credits getting to register first with freshmen registering last. It was saddening to hear others rave about the classes they wanted and see them just as quickly become closed, as my advising group registered in the late afternoon on the second to last day. My registering period opened during my biology lab, and I remember furiously refreshing my account throughout to lab and see the status of all the classes I wanted, the first schedule, back-up schedule, and back-up to the back-up schedule become filled. Luckily my lab finished a couple minutes before registering and I clicked furiously to try and claim the last spot in that open class or quickly get on the waitlist. Two of the classes I wanted were already so far down their waitlist that when I emailed the professors later that afternoon inquiring about my possibilities they thanked me for my interest but suggested I try again next semester. Talking over my choices and options with my mom helped me figure out what I would enjoy the most and help me figure out what my interests truly are.

Registration was an unbelievable stressful and crazy experience. These classes I’m taking are meant to  fill me with the skills and knowledge that I will use in the future. And that thought right there is crazy for me; that my future is here and  I need to do everything I can to make my dreams and passions a reality. But I need to figure out what those dreams and passions are and I strongly think that my spring course load will help me truly figure out who I am as a person and how I want to change the world. The future is definitely closer than it seems, especially closer than how it felt six months ago at graduation.

Daniel Wolfert Snapshot #2: And We Became RST

In which the unbreakable circle of Rat Skin Thong is revealed to the world. 

The phrase “Rat Skin Thong” is one that, most unfortunately, I cannot claim credit for; it was bequeathed unto me, like a sacred name of unspeakable power, by the aunt of a very close friend of mine during a barbeque her family was hosting.  The close friend of mine, whose name is Fiona Flynn, debated with me about changing the name of the band that she and I comprised from “Dwolf and the Fat Angry Chicks/Fdog and the Funky Crew” (depending on who was singing lead) to simply “Rat Skin Thong”, although ultimately deciding against it.  Never did I think the name would arise again.

Three years later, I sat with my new housemates at 1210 North Alder, discussing how we all fit together as a group and what we could call ourselves.  Some (undoubtedly lamer) names arose that I’ve long since forgotten, but I assumed that when I suggested Rat Skin Thong as a group name, it would be struck down.  Miraculously, the name stuck, and here, ladies and gentlemen (and anyone in-between or outside), are the lovely ladies of Rat Skin Thong:

Rosa Dale-Moore

Autobiography Title: Oh Hai Squirrel

Major: Molecular and Cellular Biology – Neuroscience Emphasis, Honors Program

Spirit Animal: Rose-Tu the Elephant from the Oregon Zoo

Memorable Quote: “All my life I wanna be a doctor; HACK HACK CHOP CHOP.”

Isabelle Chae

Autobiography Title: I Live in a Perpetual State of Awkward

Major: Undecided

Spirit Animal: Nellie the Otter from the Point Defiance Zoo

Memorable Quote: “True life.”

Alexa Himonas

Autobiography Title: They Can’t Break You If You Don’t Have a Spine

Major: Molecular and Cellular Biology and Religion, minor in Music

Spirit Animal: Dolphin

Memorable Quote: “I want his face… on my face.”

Shoshana Strom

Autobiography Title: Smosh the Troll

Major: Religion

Spirit Animal: Chinchila

Memorable Quote: “Oh… sweetie.”

Kaylene Barber

Autobiography Title: At Least He Has a Penis

Major: Music Business

Spirit Animal: Mouse

Memorable Quote: “How sexual can you make these posts, Daniel?”

Daniel Wolfert

Autobiography Title: Drug Sluts

Major: Music Composition

Spirit Animal: Lion-turtle

Memorable Quote: “My spirit color is indigo, because I’m not red enough to be purple.”

Many things bind us together, among them food… jk lolz, that’s it.

Well, not exactly.  Rosa, Isabelle and Alexa are bound by a deep interest in science, medicine and the disgusting, fascinating things that can be found on the interwebs concerning malicious maladies.  Alexa and Shoshana share a love of religion and its social implications, while Alexa, Kaylene and I are fellow warriors in the never ending battle against the dark forces of Geoffery Block’s Music 230 class (Music History: Antiquity Through Baroque), as well as the glory of songwriting and arranging.

Collectively, we are bound by Katy Perry dance parties as study breaks at midnight, endless supplies of cheddar cheese, our fear of Pennywise the Dancing Clown (who is a monster that probably lives in the decrepit, foul-smelling basement of our house), and our love of Starbucks.  We have made lumpy, delicious cookies, caused a baby to cry out of fear of being eaten, and found marvelous ways of procrastinating together.

But mostly, it’s just food.

Moral of the story: So, whether you’re looking for a good time, excessive stress from Organic Chemistry, cookies from my mother, or general panic about life, look no farther than 1210 North Alder.  Rat Skin Thong fo’ LIFE, yo.

Thanks, Fiona’s aunt.

#RST #college #Pugetsound #I don’t know how to use hashtags

pumpkins, mist, and magic

Hello-Hello and Happy Halloween! For my first post I’ll give you a taste of what’s been going on at campus this fall:

1. SCHOOL-WIDE PUMPKIN CARVING CONTEST

Apparently our school is home to some master pumpkin carvers. Here are some of my favorites:

”’CANNIBAL PUMPKIN,,,

,,,CANNIBAL PUMPKIN'''

Puget Pumpkin ’88 (go loggers!)

puget pumpkin

and my personal favorite:

(*(Planet Pumpkin)*)—

(*(Planet Pumpkin)*)

 

2. CHEMISTRY MAGIC SHOW

It’s become a UPS tradition for the “Wizard” (famed Chemistry professor) to put on a chemistry magic show every year before Halloween. This year’s show, sadly, was his last as he is retiring next year and consequently the turn-out was ENORMOUS. I arrived 30 minutes before the show thinking I’d be one of the first in line but found myself walking to the back of a line that began at the door to Schneebeck concert hall, filled the courtyard, and snaked all the way around the science building. Somehow, miraculously, I just escaped the cut-off point (an usher clicked her tally counter after I walked in, shouted “460, that’s it!”, and shut the door behind me. I thank my lucky stars I got in. Here is a portion of the line in the courtyard:

neverending line for 2013 chemistry magic show

I have several video clips from the show I wanted post here, but this site keeps playing tricks on me. If you are interested in chemistry/witchcraft check out past shows on YouTube: http://www.youtube.com/playlist?list=PL14C9CAADF8F4430A  Never before have I seen been in a room so bubbling over with nerdy science enthusiasm!

 

3. MORNING MIST

October in Tacoma means the air getting chilly and the gray setting in. At times it’s a little depressing (an entire week went by that I did not see the sun!) But truly- is there anything more beautiful than this morning mist?

morning mist- tower morning mist- trackmorning mist- fall

 

That’s all, folks.  Keep reading! or, as the Wicked Witch of the West would say,

Going so soon? I wouldn’t hear of it. Why my little party’s just beginning.

Happy Halloween, my pretties!!!

Fun fact: there’s a parking lot here with more spots than there are cars on this island.

My first view of South Caicos - fresh off the plane, coming into the dock via ferry.  The locals were waiting to greet us - on an island this small, the School for Field Studies is a pretty big deal.

My first view of South Caicos – fresh off the plane, coming into the dock via ferry. The locals were waiting to greet us – on an island this small, the School for Field Studies is a pretty big deal.

 

I was sitting at my computer, trying to think of how to turn the past six salty weeks into a decently readable blog post, looking out past low stone walls to the flat and sparkling turquoise Caribbean Sea… and I realized that my time here is halfway over.  Which is kind of a sad way to start my first blog post, so I’ll go back to the beginning of this adventure and start there.

 

I began looking into study abroad programs last fall and, me being me, didn’t want to do any of the obvious things and go to London or Rome or Paris.  At first, thanks to Bill Bryson’s In a Sunburned Country, I wanted to go to Australia (I already go to school on the other side of the country from home, why not study abroad on the other side of the world?).  And then I found a better way to be obnoxiously atypical: I was going to do an intensive field research program, spending three months at a remote field station in a foreign country – as an English major.  Several visits with Puget Sound’s helpful International Affairs Office staff, seven months, and lots of expenses later, I found myself getting off a delayed flight in the Charlotte airport with four minutes to change terminals and make my connecting international flight to the Turks and Caicos Islands (TCI), British West Indies, Caribbean.

 

And now here I am on South Caicos, taking part in the School for Field Studies (SFS) Marine Resource Management program.  In the months leading up to my departure, my dad would tell people that when Columbus came across the Atlantic he saw the Turks and Caicos Islands, said “Nah, that doesn’t count as land,” and continued on to Hispaniola.  South Caicos, sometimes called The Big South, is a whopping eight square miles with about 1,200 residents.  The small airport’s runway is half of the island’s width.  There is one doctor here (which is one doctor more than some other islands have), an elementary school and high school, fourteen churches, a store called Tasha’s Ice Cream and Toiletries that sells ice cream for a dollar a scoop, and one functioning hotel that must survive off of SFS students going there for drinks and conch fritters because South is not exactly a tourist destination.

 

And what have I done with my time in this luxurious tropical paradise?  I’ve memorized the scientific names of one hundred and twenty-four marine organisms, gotten Advanced Open Water SCUBA certified, sniffed the glorious fragrance of the Salinas (as well as the magnificent perfume of the fish plants, which overtook the salt industry in 1960), helped local third-graders in their composition class, caught two sharks and zero turtles (in the name of science!), been stung by fire coral, seen the spectacular wall of coral at the nearby seven thousand foot drop-off from lagoon to open ocean, tried conch fritters, been chased by local “potcake” dogs, and taken a grand total of two freshwater showers.

 

Tomorrow, the SFS students and some faculty will leave South and travel to North Caicos, where we will be camping for two nights – let the record show that bug spray here is $9.25 a bottle and life is hard – before heading to Providenciales, or Provo, and splitting up for our mid-semester break.  I’ve been looking forward to this for months.  Not because of the break from classes or the new dining opportunities or the tourist attractions.  Not for the change of scenery.  Not because I set up a home-stay and get to volunteer at a church there – although I am excited about that.  Not even for the existence of showers and washing machines.  I’ve been looking forward to going to Provo so that I can post it on Facebook, elicit a reply from various friends and acquaintances in Provo, Utah, and then leave them with the triumphant response: “I’M IN THE CARIBBEAN – WRONG PROVO, SUCKERS!”