If you cannot do great things, do small things in a great way.

So this is what sand looks like, under a microscope.





Like…this kind of blows my mind. I know it’s not even that big of a deal, but to me it totally is. Science people might think, hey, yeah, that’s just sand, I know because I look at stuff under microscopes all the time. Or yeah, duh, for some reason looking at the way stuff looks under microscopes is becoming a big internet thing and I saw that on reddit three days ago.

It really gets me though. The beach is my favorite place on the planet. Doesn’t matter what beach. But watching the sun sink beneath the horizon line with the entire ocean before me is one of the most mystical things I can possibly imagine and makes me feel like even though I’m small and insignificant, I’m as vast and powerful as the ocean because I’m standing there, just…being.

Anyway. I digress. The beach is my favorite place, but whenever I tell anyone that, about one out of two times I’ll get the response “Yeah, but I just hate sand.”

I don’t think a whole lot of people really dig sand. (Ok, I’m pretty proud of that one right there.) Sandcrabs and seagulls probably wouldn’t even be a fan on facebook. Sandcastles are pretty fun, sand forts are better, quicksand traps are the best – you know, that thing where you dig a big hole and put a towel over it and then more sand and someone walks over it and falls in? Classic.

But no one really loves sand. I adore the beach and can still see the negatives. It’s the glitter of the ocean, it gets everywhere. Like in places you don’t even want to mention. And all over your car, and your vacuum hates you. And if you just came out of the ocean and try to eat something, it’s literally a sandwich because there is no way to keep the sand from sticking all over your fingers. There is a reason why people have dreams that an axe murderer is chasing them and they get stuck running in sand and can’t move. Because sand is typically horrible.

But it’s not. Look at that picture. It’s actually breathtaking. And I find that fact wonderful.
Something that everyone thinks is annoying or ugly or insignificant, looked at from another perspective, is actually stunningly beautiful. It’s so small we don’t notice it, and we need a little help to get there. Yet if we take the time to look, we’re faced with results that I at least could never have expected.

You could say I’m shell-shocked.

Sorry, had to. Sunsets are beautiful, the ocean is beautiful, and everyone knows it, but it’s the things that go unsung that sometimes can hide the greatest beauty of all. There are no small parts, only small actors. I don’t know. These shells are pretty small parts, but when they’re magnified they make a pretty big statement.


The only true wisdom is knowing that you know nothing.

     I have multiple instances of knowing nothing. In fact, as I typed that sentence, a detailed list of all the nothings that I know popped into my head. Maybe I should just declare myself an expert of knowing nothing and allow that to be my area of study. Knowing a lot about nothing is something, isn’t it?
I’ll just keep telling myself that.

     I know nothing about how to fix the engine on a car, how an airplane actually flies in the air, how to make flan, and how to behave correctly in a whole slew of social interactions. The list goes on.

     In this current instance, the thought that “I know nothing” flitted into my mind as I was handed my study guide for a political science class that I took because my friends were taking it and all my other classes were wait-listed.

     Let’s just say if the readings and I aren’t friends. We aren’t even acquaintances. But we’re not enemies, either. That would require us spending some time together. I would say if they were to be classified with my familiarity of them, I could boast the fact that I know in general of their existence.

     One of the reasons that I am on such a distant level of acquaintance with my readings and know nothing is in part due to a character who also apparently knows nothing.


     That is correct, ladies and gents – er, lords and sers…? Uh, peasants? I’m talking about Game of Thrones.

     When I could have been responsibly completing my readings on time, I was watching this show.

     When I could have been eating meals at a normal hour, I watching this show.

     When I could have been sleeping at three in the morning, I was watching this show.

     When I could have been exploring the outside world, I was watching this show.

     Basically I was watching this show until there was no more show to watch.

     I’ll not touch upon how sad that is and how people entertain themselves is slowly progressing from actual conversations to solo binge sessions in front of a computer screen (hey look, I just did.) That’s a topic for another day.

     What I will touch upon that I’ve already touched upon is that I have wasted my time so successfully that my midterm is now two days away and I have 300 pages of reading to wade through.

     I can honestly say that when I debate in my head whether or not I made a good choice to “waste my time” watching, I can’t decide. On the one hand, the thing that I’m getting graded on was shoved into a sad little corner. But on the other hand, I have a complex, cinematically and authorially brilliant storyline tucked away in my mind to watch and draw upon whenever I so choose.

     As a creative writing major pursuing some sort of job in the entertainment industry creating stories, I actually think that that matters more. Yes, parents and teachers everywhere who are likely shaking their heads, something that I don’t get a grade on allowed me to learn more on something that did.

     For instance, in a job interview, am I going to impress someone more by telling them what happened in the August Revolution at 1945, or that I can recite most of Peter Dinklage’s epic lines?

     Don’t answer that.

     But it depends on who you ask, and the people who I’d be asking would side with the former option. I know that colleges are seeking to churn out “well-rounded students,” but I feel like we are too well-rounded. We are becoming jacks of all trades and masters of none. If everyone was simply extremely good at the field they chose, would it really matter if I know how to speak Spanish (or at least, passed three semesters of it), can graph a parabola, and know my basic philosophy?

     Perhaps I have a point, or perhaps I’m just preparing myself for the dismal grade I am about to receive on my midterm. But I’ll have the thought of the fast approach of season 4 to cheer me up.

     And here for your own enjoyment and procrastination are more hilarious pictures of Jon Snow looking sad and not knowing things. (The last one’s just really sad for other reasons though :'[)