And I write because I have lots of pent up energy and it's Friday and I have no idea why I went home early.

Lining the hallways of my university there are photos from all over the world. My school is really renown for its international work and it is one of the sole reasons I chose Hopkins over other programs. I am in love with the hallways and enjoy walking through them. The photos, the departments, the history of the building and the school. The school is known for the eradication of smallpox and so much more. A few years ago, I never imagined myself to be in such a prestigious university, so lucky to be surrounded by the most amazing people who can heal and help people with their hands and knowledge. In the midst of running around from lectures, to lunch, to studying - the photos provide a nice break and reminder of why I'm spending so much of my resources to attend this school. There are photos of children. Photos of adults. Photos from Africa. Photos from other countries I have never been to but want to.

And then, there was this photo of a woman, clearly from Vietnam, with her conical hat squatting and rowing a boat. Her eyes facing the photographer. I passed by it for only a second, but it quickly flashed back a flood of memories of the brilliant girls of a scholarship program who would lead me to their homes during program home visits through the mekong channels in the exact same fashion. The same girls who inspire me to go back to school so I can better figure out ways to improve their lives. It was such a strong feeling. It was a strange one, one mixed with longing and nostalgia all together. I miss them, I miss that work, and most importantly, I miss being out of my element - in an element of awe.

You see, sitting on the boat with the girls who would row me to their homes, I had never before experienced that. If events had been different, if there was no war, and nothing else, that might of been my life, but it wasn't. So me being on a rowboat is quite the event. First of all, it reminded me of how different I was. It's extremely difficult to squat in that boat, let alone a row boat. I remember squatting, wearing a huge helmet, holding all my papers and interview sheets, staring at my converses, amused by the green squash underneath me, hoping for my dear life that I wouldn't fall into the water. And the girl, she does this every day. Her balance is impeccable. Her smile even more so. And while it may seem that the world and all its ugly forces are against her - poverty, hunger, and inequality - at that moment I realize she knows so much more than me, she's guiding me and feeding my soul in ways that I could never thought possible.

I think about the green rice paddies a lot. I don't think anyone really understands the calming effect of green rice paddies. I'm not sure what it really is, perhaps its the color, the breeze that floats above them, but the rice paddies I am in love with.

Sometimes I find it hard to be at Hopkins because I start missing people who were in my life but then aren't due to distance and some other complicated matters. I miss them and the comfort and warmth they gave me and then I get sad because I feel miserable from studying so much. Prolonged exposure to wracking my brain around environmental toxins, population dynamics and epidemiologic methods tends to do that to me. I think about things that I want but can't have at the moment. And while I'm writing this I remember why I'm here, I remember that my gut is all I have. I clear my head a bit, and I realize that my gut feeling is always right. That to life there is no wrong answer.

My favorite things in the world have nothing to do with the things I stress about on the daily. I realize that my need to control things is probably having an effect on me and my life is all about a balance of those things that make me anxious and of the things that make me happy. Of the things that make me happy are not even in my life but are still things I fondly remember - cartoon newspapers on sunday, rice paddies, the mekong delta waters, the simple moments in life when you're not stressing out about things. When you're just living and letting it be. When everything is okay and you are not super conscious of things. When people's laughter at your comments warms your heart. When you're mistakes are funny to people. I constantly have a difficult time trying to be social and being safe - and those two things conflict with one another. I regret things, I think about things a lot, wish I had more friends and made friends easily, I make mistakes but am too ashamed and proud to admit it.

After a lifetime of controlling my image and who I am, I feel like I'm starting to forget who I was and the feelings that are true to who I am. I've suppressed it so much over the years that I forgot about that one time when I was little I had a crush on a person for two whole years and didn't tell him until I had to. For the most part, I ALWAYS want to be your friend. I also enjoy awkward, kind people and wish I stood up for people more. I also wished I called out people. If they're shitty and stupid - than I'm probably right. And I wish first impressions aren't everything because I'm not so good at it. This year I want to be more connected to myself and my feelings and to validate them for what they are at the moment instead of worrying about what others think about me. This is going to be extremely difficult - but hey, what isn't.