My grandfather passed away this morning. It's Monday, February 22, 2016. I don't even know how old he was.

Grandpa Lu was probably the most quintessentially stereotypical little old Chinese man. He was tiny and skinny, walked really slowly, slightly hunched over, was surprisingly soft-spoken considering how loud everyone else in the family is although when he raised his voice he still commanded everyone's attention.

He was smart, and kind, and caring, and ever since I can remember he has always looked the same. He was always a constant in my life - when I went back to the countryside, I could always count on seeing him and my grandma - also an adorable quintessentially stereotypical little old Chinese woman - waiting outside the door waiting for us to arrive, and waving us in, and trying to help us bring in the luggage, and bringing us fruit from his garden and eggs from his chickens.

He couldn't really speak Mandarin, and I can't speak a word of the dialect, but somehow we managed basic communications - with a lot of prodding and pointing and asking my dad to translate. He and Grandma figured out the things I liked to eat and whenever I was there, they would have it prepared and bring me a platter of the stuff to snack on. When they moved and got a larger table with a lazy susan, he would always rotate the lazy susan to place the best foods in front of me and motion for me to eat it.

I don't really know much about his life before I was born - we can't really communicate, and I only know things that my dad has told me, which has mostly been focused around my dad's youth. I know Grandpa was born sometime in the 30s because he's older than my Grandma and she's 81 this year; I know Grandpa was a child living through World War II and the Japanese massacre of the Chinese people; I know Grandpa lived through all of the horrors of Mao's reign over China; I know Grandpa was the father of 3 girls and one boy and had to work overtime in the fields all of the time in order to feed his family, because women weren't "paid" with the same amount of food as men were; I know Grandpa was a smoker but quit cold-turkey the minute he found out cigarettes were dangerous; I know Grandpa had many opinions about the Chinese government which would've gotten him thrown into jail if he ever voiced them to anyone other than his family. I don't know much about Grandpa, but I've always known he was a survivor.

For the past few years, he had a myriad of health issues. It seems like every time I went back to China - which was about once or twice a year, mind you - he was sick or had just finished battling another health problem. He was almost never eating or had some kind of weird diet because he was having stomach and intestine problems, and he was frailer than ever, but it seemed like he just kept surviving. I never really thought more about it - Grandpa was a constant. He could survive anything.

When my dad called me on Saturday to tell me that he had fallen down on Chinese New Year and gotten some kind of medicine that ended up attacking the wrong parts of his body, but had switched meds to something that was helping him get better, I just assumed he was going to be okay.

Obviously, I was wrong.

I don't know if I'll be able to go to China to say my goodbyes. Either way, Grandpa - I love you. You have always been kind and I know I was one of your favorite grandchildren, whether or not that may be because I'm the daughter of your only son. You stood up for me that time I got into a fight with dad and you put dad in his place (which was really entertaining to watch, actually). You always ate some of the cakes and pies and tarts that I baked even when you were having stomach issues and couldn't really eat anything, and you always made sure I had eaten enough even though I never eat much when I'm in the countryside, and you always tried to give me the best parts of the fish and the meat on the table. You and Grandma would always have that special pair of slippers laid out for me when I came to visit, which apparently only I could wear, and you were always there to greet us and help me bring in my suitcase even when I didn't need help, and you were always so excited to see Hera even when she was afraid to even wave to you.

I'm someone who's always entertained the idea of reincarnation - a life lost is a life gained somewhere else - and it was further reinforced when my grandma passed away on Hera's birthday. So Grandpa - I hope you come back where society is better, where the government is less crazy, where you'll have a family even larger than our ridiculously large family. I hope you have more children and they will have more children and maybe you'll have more boys in the family than ours to balance it out some. I hope you are loved more than you already are. I hope your next life will be better and you'll have to deal with less suffering and the people surrounding you will be kinder.

And I hope in the meantime, you'll watch over us like you always have.

Every January of a new year, I like to reflect on the past year. Especially now that I'm going into my last semester at MIT - yes guys, I'm graduating in June and I am all sorts of excited! - it seems like a very appropriate time to be reflecting on not just the last year but also my time here at MIT.

Is there anything I would've done differently?

1. Would I still have come to MIT?

Sometimes I feel really resentful of being at MIT, which I then follow up with feeling really ashamed for it - how many people dream about coming here? There have been multiple times where I have thought back to my senior year of high school and which colleges I could have gone to - I could've gone to McGill, probably still have had a good time without being as ridiculously stressed all the time and possibly had better job prospects just because the application pool in Canada is quite a bit smaller.

But would I have come out with as many stories and would I have been as strong and resilient as I am now? Probably not.

Was it worth it?

I don't know.

I tell myself the friends and the connections that I have now are certainly worth it, but frankly I don't quite know. I have endured the lowest moments of my life so far here, and it really sucked. On the other side of things, would I appreciate the sanity that my friends offered me as much had I not endured those moments?

2. Would I still have studied Architecture?

For the first three years at MIT, I never questioned my choice to study architecture. MIT has a wonderful architecture program. The majority of our professors really do care, our studios are interesting, we're required to take classes outside of architecture design in order to have a more well rounded education. I have learned so much about iterative design and about problem solving and I have exercised my spatial reasoning ability to the max. I have been praised for my work fairly consistently and been asked to be part of the archives every studio semester, without fail. I have a ridiculous work ethic - my professor for my last studio said that often I would make life harder for myself in order to create more beautiful work - and I am efficient and organized enough to do more complex work and be part of more clubs than many of my peers and still sleep.

And yet, this past semester, I began to question that choice.

Architecture at MIT doesn't seem very employable. Just go check out the career fair - every company is looking for course 2s (Mechanical Engineers) or course 6s (EECS). It's disheartening, although the types of companies that come to the career fair aren't necessarily the same as the ones I want to work for. At least, that's what I told myself, time and time again, until this year when I actually began to look for a job so that I could, well, be employed after graduation. Since I'm looking primarily in non-Architecture fields such as UI/UX design and product design, it feels like maybe I should've studied something different. When I first came to MIT, I truly believed that Architecture was the only major that fit my abilities and the only one I could've succeeded in, but now I have no doubt that I could've done well in other disciplines as well.

I suppose if anything, Architecture really helped hone my self-confidence.

I think if I could do it again, I might try to double major - I formed bonds with so many people and learned so much in Architecture that I can't imagine giving that up, but there's still so much that I'm curious about in other disciplines that I just didn't really have the time - or make the time - for.

I'm trying to do that now, since I'm done with studios, but I'm running out of time.

3. Would I have handled my social life differently?

To be completely honest, I don't really have much of a social life. I don't like to go out and I don't like to party because I prefer the comfort and the quietude of my room. Pretty much the extent of my socializing with my friends - who I love, by the way - includes eating things, making things to eat (and then eating those things), and watching something on Hulu or Netflix. Despite my reluctance to go out and party with them, I think they still love me and appreciate me - and certainly I would not have survived MIT without them. (Thanks guys. I love you and you mean the world to me.)

I do think that some extent of my reluctance to go out with my friends was financial - I just didn't want to spend the money - and I think if I went back I would be less hesitant to do things with them and more willing to spend the money for a nice meal or for drinks. I think I missed out on a lot of time because I was too much of a scrooge, and that's the main thing that I'm trying to improve on this year. I have to keep telling myself that it's okay to spend small change on small happinesses.

The other part of my social life comes from the groups I am part of on campus - my dance group, ADT, and Dramashop.

One thing for sure - I would've joined ADT much earlier instead of waiting until sophomore spring. I have always regretted not getting more time to spend with some of my choreographers - I have a massive girl crush on one of my choreographers my first semester, which was also the semester she graduated. It was very sad. I also have varying levels of girl crushes on most of my choreographers. I can't help it. They're all so cute and so talented.

Apart from that, ADT was also my solace away from the craziness of studios and Architecture. It was a place I could escape because literally no one else in ADT was Architecture Design and everyone was focused on learning the dances. There were some days at MIT where I got out of bed solely for ADT, and I couldn't be more grateful for having a group of people like that there for me, whether they know it or not.

4. Are there any resources I didn't take advantage of at MIT?

Yes. So many yes's. MIT has so many resources and cool things for students to do and I really didn't take advantage of any of it, and I regret it so much. The main resource that I should've taken advantage of - and didn't - is MIT's MISTI program.

MISTI is basically a program where you tell MIT where you want to go in the world and they find you an internship and pay for you to go there. It's a program where you travel abroad. For free.

I know. I know! Anyone who knows me knows that I love traveling - I've been to 18 countries and I want to go to more and also all of them again because there's so much more still to explore - and MISTI would've been perfect for me. The only problem is that, apart from Israel, I think, you have to know the language of the country, and at the time I didn't try hard enough to figure out how to take French with my schedule. I am taking French now, and I could theoretically still do MISTI for this coming summer... but I'm kind of planning a Europe backpacking trip anyway.

5. Are there any ways you would've chosen to spend your free time differently?

I've always been a crafter and a maker. When I was little I used to collect our empty toilet paper rolls and kleenex boxes because I wanted to make things out of them - to the point where I had filled an entire cupboard with these useless boxes. My dad finally threw them out after I went to high school, and I'm pretty sure I threw a fit.

When I was in high school I picked up crocheting, and that really blossomed at MIT. Crocheting was an easy, mindless, fast project that I could do when I was too stressed out to focus, and I could make all these cute toys with them! It was a lot of fun, and I could do it in my bed. But when I spent all my free time crocheting and knitting - things I could do in my bed - I stopped painting.

I'm trying to pick it back up. I still see so many more colors in everything, and I still have an eye for color and design and layout. Skills like that, things you're born with, you don't lose. But I'm rusty. I'm less comfortable that I used to be with a brush and a canvas, and I'm less accurate in my sketches than I used to be. It's depressing! I used to be fairly good and now I'm not satisfied with almost everything I paint or draw.

There isn't really a good traditional arts program at MIT and without classes forcing me to exercise those abilities, I let them slide. Now I have to spend more time working to regain those abilities - I wish I hadn't stopped painting in the first place, but I think it'll be like riding a bike. A little rusty at first, but it'll come back with some practice.

Is there anything you would've done differently last year or in the past few years? Let me know!

On Thursday last week, I had a bit of a meltdown.

I got back a test that did not receive a grade I would've liked (don't worry, I didn't fail) which I had studied fairly hard for, and somehow became irrationally upset about it and ended up crying for most of the day. The meltdown, thinking back, must've been about more than a poor grade - I think the stress of job hunting and MIT started to get to me again, even though I purposefully chose to take a lighter semester with only 3 classes instead of my usual 4 or 5 (For reference, 4 classes is standard at MIT).

I'm not a stranger to meltdowns like the one I had this past week. I had them frequently last year, which was arguably one of the most stressful years I've ever had. However, I have learned how to deal with stress and meltdowns better. I sought help last semester, which helped greatly, but I do not feel like I'm in that poor of a state again to warrant another series of meetings with other people.

Instead, I chose to take the weekend off. I managed to get all of my immediate homework done by Friday (apart from a few last minute things on Saturday which took all of 20 minutes), so I could afford taking the weekend off. On Saturday, other than dance and work, I watched a movie and went out for brunch with a friend where we talked about everything other than classwork; Sunday, I spent baking.

So here are my top 10 ways I reduce stress, and I hope at least a few are helpful for you too!

1. Knitting and Crocheting: crafting has always been a source of stress-relief for me. My hands don't do well when they aren't used, and knitting and crocheting are easy for me to do while not really paying a lot of attention. It also helps because I make things for people for Christmas, so I also get to cross things off my Christmas To-Make list!
2. Doodling: As shown in a post here, I've recently gotten into my DIY planner. In the extra space per day, I like to draw a little picture of me and what I wore, or what I ate, etc., and I also take a few notes on what happened during the day (i.e. today was so cold, I bought food today, I had a lot of fun with my roommates today... etc). Super mundane, super simple, but it's surprisingly fun to look back on.
3. Watch a movie or a TV show: I especially like to watch kids movies and tv shows to destress. Recently I have been watching Steven Universe (Cartoon Network) and Gravity Falls (Disney), both of which I greatly recommend. They are now both on hiatus, so I will probably return to watching all the classic Disney movies on repeat.
4. Take a Youtube break: I like to do this when I don't necessarily have time for a longer break. I've been ridiculously into watching planner videos - they're really good for white noise, and I don't really have to pay attention!
5.  Cleaning: I hate mess and cleaning makes me feel like I'm being productive even though I'm really procrastinating on doing schoolwork. 
6. Put the stressors away: I am very bad at doing this, but it's so helpful to do. Put whatever it is that's stressing you out away for 20 minutes (or a full day, if you can afford it). This includes closing all related tabs on your computer! It really helps to take your mind off of it, and it makes you feel a lot more rejuvenated when you go back to it.
7. Baking, Cooking, Eating: I like to stress bake. I like to stress cook. I like to stress eat. I also like to feed other people. This all works out very well for me.
8. Take a nap: Personally it's really hard for me to fall asleep when I'm stressed out because my mind doesn't turn off. Taking the time to take a 30 minute nap without distractions helps me clear my mind. Also sleeping is great.
9. Call my sister: My sister is adorable, as exemplified about a million and a half times prior. She's really good at cheering me up! The last time I called her crying, she stuck her feet in my dad's face to make me laugh.
10. Dance: Taking breaks to practice my choreo helps me get out all the negative energy and also helps me learn choreo, which I'm sure my choreographers don't mind me doing.

Since the last time I blogged, a lot of things have happened. I went home for spring break and cuddled my baby sister. I finally sucked up my pride and went to MIT Mental Health. I stopped eating for a while and survived pretty much solely on nutrition drinks and occasionally mac and cheese from a box. I gained back my appetite. I danced. I survived the semester and my slightly-psychotic-and-abusive studio professor. I completed my last studio of my college career.

I think feeling a little bit inadequate can be helpful sometimes because it drives me to work more and to work harder. I've always wanted to be the best, possibly because the ideal has been so ingrained in me from society and from my parents. But often times wanting to be the best just results in feeling really, really awful - like not beautiful enough and not smart enough and not hardworking enough and just not enough.

During the time I was unable to eat, I - understandably - lost a bunch of weight. I lost weight to the point where a pair of too-small jeans that used to be rub against my hip bones so much that it was painful to wear for more than half a day now fit me perfectly. It was weird - I was panicking that I was losing weight so quickly but some small part of me was almost happy that I might finally be the size I want to be.

I remember distinctly rubbing my elbows at one point and truly being taken aback at how spindly and pointy they felt. For some reason, I have become more aware of the sharp edges on my body. I think my panic over losing weight so quickly has caused me to become more understanding and more accepting of my body.

It's enough.

I am enough.

My legs are enough. I have big thighs and big calves which make it hard to buy skinny jeans and normal boots, but they are enough. They let me explore the city and hike and walk and bike and dance.

My arms are enough. They are skinny and spindly and sharp but they help me be expressive.

My hands are enough. They are tiny but they are talented and steady and they allow me to express my creativity. They're also really good at getting into hard-to-reach nooks and crannies, which is useful when someone drops something and also when I'm building detailed models.

My stomach is enough. I may have a little bit of a belly but it lets me eat lots of yummy food! I think this is something that I've always had trouble accepting - I've always wanted to be skinny, but now I understand that I would never give up my bottomless appetite for something so facetious.

My body is enough.

And I'm also slowly understanding that not just my body, but my mind... it's also enough.

A couple days ago my friend commented to me that I work all the time. I laughed and I said that I do things other than work sometimes! I do side projects like crochet and knit and sew and draw and read and watch tv and sleep. I then realized that I had just included sleep as a fun, not-work thing, and I instantly sobered.

I've realized I need to start thinking in terms of being enough instead of not-enough. I am hardworking enough. I am talented enough. I am good enough. I am beautiful enough.

After all, I'm stuck being me for the rest of my life. Why spend it the rest of it continuing to beat myself up for not being enough?

One of the most memorable things my best friend, Lydia, ever told me was during a discussion about what we thought our greatest strengths and weaknesses were. I came up short - didn't know what to say - not because I thought I had none of either, but because I didn't feel like an answer such as "art" and "English" and other academia would suffice or even be appropriate. Sure, I'm pretty good at a few hobbies like drawing and I'm decent at math, but I'm not exceptional at anything, I felt. At the same time, I don't really think I suck butt at anything in particular either. Except maybe music. I've never been good at music. Oh and sports. Sports can go die in a hole.

And then Lydia delivered this gem: "Your greatest strength is your capability to love." She said she'd never met anyone who could love so many people so much, and often right off the bat too. It brought us back to how we had met - two quiet little freshman at a new school during a day full of icebreakers, and I went up to her because we were both standing alone (and she looked friendly! and pretty!) and somehow that developed into the friendship we have today.

Originally this post was going to be about the World Cup finale and Peel Play Olé Olé (my body is still fighting off the sodium bloat, embarrassingly enough), but a very one-sided conversation about cherishing opportunity (and not being money-driven) with my very Asian parents will be taking the limelight today.