Always a Logger

As I was cleaning out my room this past weekend getting ready to move out I found an earring I had forgotten about. A single earring that I kept despite losing the other during move-out freshmen year. I had bought it at the fall student market from another student, a girl I didn’t know but I loved her jewelry pieces! It was an homemade silver axe design pair of earrings! I wore it all the time freshmen year, loving the school spirit and the swing of the axes (with none of the danger!). I was infinitely sad to discover I had lost one of the earrings and I didn’t have any others that matched or would work mixed with the single axe earring I had!

All these memories came back as I prepared to move out. Especially so in my moves every year, that I clearly didn’t throw away a lone earring when I try to de-clutter as much as possible! A lingering symbol of freshmen year Rachel and my excitement about being a Logger. I wish I could’ve wore the pair of earrings on graduation day but alas it was not meant to be. I’ve grown so much during my time at UPS, freshmen Rachel I no longer am. Yet axes, loggers I will always be, an alumni of UPS with all its shared with me. And probably for the rest of my life explaining to those unknowing no I didn’t go to the United Postal Service, Puget Sound is a completely different place and transformative experience!



How does your major affect your postgrad plans?

Coming into college I knew I wanted to be a biology major, as a hundred or so other people thought and eventually abandoned the sciences for other intellectual pursuits I continued to enjoy and be fascinated by what biology and understanding of our body, cells and humans can do. Yet, with graduation approaching and the end of my undergraduate learning, I believe many people are at a crossroads. Yes, we put in four years of work towards taking classes for our major, focusing on specific classes for specialization where our interests lay, and fieldwork/research/internships further studies in our major but we’ve also done more outside of our major. Whether that’s a job to fund our education, internship, shadowing opportunity, fieldwork, minor/emphasis courses, liberal arts “other” course not under our major and involvement in the community that may interest us just as much as our major did in the beginning.

memes major

Sometimes four years of hard hitting academics within our major and focuses tires us out when graduation approaches. Not many individuals choose to pursue continued education immediately after undergrad, the ones who do have a clear path they are pursuing. And its taken me awhile and my own personal experience, it can be okay to not know what we want to do post-undergrad or doing work that is not directly related to our major, not directly related to our $240,000+ education that we received. It’s okay to be uncertain, to do something new, to do something that pays the bill, to travel and fulfill some dreams and all will hopefully well in the future.


Spring Semester Second Half Crush

My high school had two semesters and four quarters so each half of the semester was clearly marked with a grade and a finals week that signified the end of sections. This lead to a more enjoyable break without extensive homework to do as new content was beginning after break ended! However at UPS and most colleges I believe, there are no two quarters within a semester, all the work and learning leads to a semester grade and midterms is a very real busy week but often vary in intensity and actual timing due to various types of assignments.

Beyond that with graduation and the end of the year imminent, there are so many events and extracurriculars that all students are participating in and attending. Of course spring is also the best season!! Senior and junior performances, thesis presentations, national subject conferences, and much much more!

Here’s a small snippet of the weekend plans that are coming up this last few weeks before graduation!*

April 1st: Largest home track meet, Puget Sound Decision Day, Phi Sigma (STEM) Research Symposium, (for me) Theta Formal, Senior Theatre Festival (STF) Performances

April 8th: Parents Weekend: Luau, STF, Opera Performance

April 15th: Sigma Chi Derby Days Philanthropy, RDG Performances, STF, Underground Sound Concert, Garden Level Concert; Easter; Pesach

April 22nd: Jacobsen Series Performance, STF, ASUPS Lectures w/ Janaya Khan

April 29th: Relay for Life, Tacoma Bike Swap,




*These are all events I’m aware of! Not including club activities, other greek life philanthropies and formals, etc.


Five Myths of the Creation of Daniel Wolfert

In which all is revealed.



In the beginning was the Word and the Word was a singularity that spoke amid darkness, “Let there be light,” and from this singularity came all things: white dwarf stars and sea lions and ricotta cheese and all things were entropy as Space/Time raced inexorably away from itself. As it raced onwards, the Word that was a singularity that spoke amid darkness folded itself up into an infinitesimal idea, collapsing ever inwards until it fell, like a star, into the belly of a woman that lived by the Pacific. Inside of her belly grew a boy, and although she did not know it yet, his hands would be small and his heart would look like entropy, which is to say, all things.


The Cartesian coordinates (0,0,0,0) of the four-dimensional life of the boy with small hands and a heart that looked like entropy are a chair at a desk by a window in a bedroom. They are the earliest memory of the boy, although there are rumors that he existed before this. They are the sight of the pink dawn, and the scent of Chocolate Soymilk, and the sound of Jim Dale reading the audiobook of Harry Potter and the Sorcerer’s Stone, saying “Mr. and Mrs. Dursley of number four, Privet Drive, were proud to say that they were perfectly normal, thank you very much.”


Beginnings and endings are relative. As you read this, the universe itself is expanding, sending each celestial body further away from one another in eternal redshift. Space/Time itself is growing.

When the boy with small hands and a heart that looked like entropy learned this, he was sitting in a desk in a school made of bricks by the Puget Sound. He looked out the classroom window, past rustling oak leaves, past other brick buildings, out to the heavens beyond.

He considered the stars he could not see, racing inexorably away from him through space. He considered his own life, racing inexorably away from him through time.


My name is Daniel Wolfert. I have a mother and a father. I have two sisters and a dog.

My hands are so small. But if I could stretch them wide enough to catch all your pain, I would. If I could, I would fold up the world until it was a singularity in my palms, all safe, all sound.

My heart looks like entropy. To bring it to the light is to see white dwarf stars and sea lions and ricotta cheese and the heat death of the universe. It is to see how life creates the paradox of saying:

I have tried my best.

I’m sorry.

I have tried my best.

I have no apologies.

I have two sisters and a dog. I have a mother and father. My name is Daniel Wolfert.


In the beginning was the beating heart of Space/Time, which contained all things – white dwarf stars and sea lions and ricotta cheese and every moment of everywhere in the universe. Space/Time, being lonely, looked inside itself and saw through the eons it contained the sight of love. It saw hands stretching out to hold one another. It saw hearts growing ever wider in redshift acceleration. And as it saw these sights, the heart of Space/Time broke with loneliness, initiating what we now call entropy.

Every story of every moment of everywhere in the universe raced inexorably forward, and every story was the Word, which looks something like small hands and something like entropic hearts, and every story was Heartbreak, which looks something like a supernova and something like growing up.

In the beginning was the End, which is to say, the change from What Was to What Will Be.

In the beginning was the Word and the Word was a singularity that spoke amid darkness, “Let there be light,







No For An Answer

In which tenacity is not to be overlooked.


To my dear reader,

With only days until my college graduation, the omnipresent, looming question is “What will you do after graduation?” My own answer, as of right now, is “I am unsure.” To my chagrin (although certainly not to my surprise), absolutely none of my job applications for the Tacoma area have been accepted, in spite of the countless hours I have spent across the entire year contacting the people I wished to hire me and polishing my applications. I am due to return to a house in Tacoma sometime this summer with no pre-conceived course of action.

This is not really what bothers me. Given my life, and my luck, I would expect nothing less from the universe than this formalized middle finger. I have been through worse things. What really bothers me, however, is the look of feigned concern or sympathy on people’s faces when they hear this news. “Whatever will you do?” their expressions say to me. “However will you survive in the big, bad world?”

These people – and you, dear reader, may undoubtedly be among them – are effectively saying to me that they doubt my talent, and moreover, my tenacity. They are saying that I must have somehow seriously fucked up in order for the road ahead of me to be unclear, as if I am a little boy who is incapable of making good decisions. They are saying that, when the universe speaks, I am willing to take no for an answer.

Incorrect. I know myself. I know the story.

Do not doubt my tenacity for even a moment. I am irascible and ill-tempered beyond your wildest dreams. I am willing to take many things from the world, but no for an answer is not one of them, and if you think otherwise, perhaps you don’t read my blogs as thoroughly as you think you do.

With all due respect,

Daniel Wolfert

To commence

The 2015 Commencement Ceremony will be on Sunday, we will say goodbye and wish well 622 of our former classmates, friends, coworkers, significant others, flings, acquaintances and wonderful people. Ironically enough that same day will be two years from my high school graduation. reconciling both these revelations in my head is insane to even consider. Two years ago I couldn’t have imagined how much my life would have changed, how much I would love Puget Sound and on my way to figuring out my way.

Two years since high school, two years until college is over, so much can happen in two years. I thought between high school to college was a momentous moment, but this middle ground of college is the deciding point. Am I committing to my major or adding a major/minor, getting those credits I need? Do I want to study abroad? How am I building up my resume for after college? After graduation there’s no obvious socially demanded path that I have to take. Even more going to Puget Sound I now my education here is just another step to being myself, doing what I love in the future for a living, Yes, that may leave me struggling and lost for awhile but gives me the strength to figure out.

From high school we were just moving on to college in some form or the real world in some small steps right there. Commencement signifies the official end of the social norms of our education system, of the opportunity for us to truly be free to chose where we want to be, how we want to be and who we want to be. To begin the rest of our lives. Congratulations Class of 2015 on the start of the rest of your life! For me, I can’t wait to enjoy two more  years until the beginning of mine.

commence verb. begin; start

Do You Hate That Question?

In which Daniel begrudgingly converses with grown, working adults and steals some holiday treats.


To my dear reader,

At a recent holiday party my parents dragged me to, I was cornered once again by a grown, working adult with some professional connection to music, intent on politely grilling me about my future plans. Do not mistake me; he was a nice man with lots of experience in musical theater, which was fitting given my interests. Nonetheless, it seemed the umpteenth time that I had to unpack the messy and vaguely formed goals I have for the future. Such plans hopefully include any and/or all of the following:

-WOOFing (Working on Organic Farms) in some cold, distant country such as Iceland, wherein I would work on a farm in exchange for room and board, while also exploring some of the local culture, folklore and musical practices

-Taking my Birthright Trip to Israel, wherein I would learn of the history of the Jewish people alongside a large group of other young Jews from around the world

-Becoming a professional narrator of children’s audiobooks

-Taking more cooking classes

-Becoming a park ranger

-Attending graduate school for music composition, with an emphasis in music theater

-Joining Peace Crops, AmeriCorps or Teach for America

-Becoming a proficient pianist

-Getting a masters in teaching, choral directing or composition

-Becoming a choral director

-Owning a very large dog

There is a pattern that opens such an exchange. It usually begins with a grown, working adult looking down at me (I am of rather small stature), asking, with benign interest, how involved I am in music. After I list my credentials most politely, they finally ask “What are your plans for after college”. There is a slight pause in which I either snort, laugh, grimace or perform a lovely combination of the above, and after which they always ask “Do you hate that question?”

The real answer is “not really”. Yes, there is a part of me that is irked at having to explain my extremely uncertain future over and over again, but I do not begrudge such grown, working adults for expressing (or feigning, at society’s bequest) interest in my future. I do begrudge them, however, for the statements about a career in music such as “Oh, that’s a hard business to get into”. To such statements, I respond with the following. Everything is hard.

All I seem to hear is that everyone has a college diploma these days, so they’re worthless, and that the economy is in ruins, so finding a job is hopeless, and global warming is going to destroy the Earth and soon the world will be a desert wasteland and I may as well give up and die right now. No matter what profession I chose, it would be hard. Life is hard.

Despite all this irritation I have with the attitudes that grown, working adults have toward my plans, I still don’t really mind the question. The reason for that is that, unlike most of my peers, I am actually very excited for the future. Yes, I am EXCITED about the prospect of having to work hard and pay rent and be a real adult. I am excited to own a house and paint it a horrible shade of green and realize my awful mistake and have to paint it twice more before I get the shade right. I am excited about working on a farm and waking up sore and groggy before the sun has fully risen to assist a wizened Nordic man harvest leeks in late spring. I am excited to adopt an enormous puppy and take it on a seemingly endless hike through the Appalachian mountain range, during which I shall tell every memory I can possibly remember and sing every song I possibly know to that poor, exhausted animal.

I firmly believe that am lucky enough to be excited about future because I have seen my best-laid plans fail a sufficient number of times, and seen things work out one way or another a sufficient number of times, to know that I’ll just make it work. I may not get what I want from my messy plans for the future, but no matter how I plan them, they will inevitably fall apart and be a disaster. They will also inevitably be – in the most messy, exhausting and unexpected way – perfect.

So, grown, working adults, I say this to you: I have no fear. I’m an adult. I DO WHAT I WANT. And after I was done with that conversation, I decided that I was done with that party, and that my future was to steal as many cookies as I could fit in my pockets before sneaking out the door to watch the TV show “Supernatural” with my sister at home. That plan worked out – how hard could the rest of them really be?

With all due respect,

Daniel Wolfert