C’est la vie - this beautiful life, it is what it is.
I don’t gamble, but I gotta go for a few rounds of Blackjack after skiing.
I don’t drink, and I actually hate going to après.
I do love myself a spa day, so let’s see if I can afford one after this hand of BJ 😼
Enjoying a quiet picnic halfway down a secluded trail.
Graduation is only a few months away.
My mind keeps circling back to heartwarming moments - especially those tiny ones.
Spring 2024. The gentleman in charge of media relations at Hopkins - Mr. Donovan, I think his name is - connected my project team with CBS News.
On the big day, I was grinding my teeth with nerves, when I looked up and saw Mr. Donovan in the corner. He returned my uneasy gaze with a somewhat goofy ear-to-ear smile.
Just like that, anxiety loosened its grip on me. Then, the interview began.
I know, still looking quite nervous there 😹
If you're also passionate about dancing across moguls, you may have heard of this great tip: keep your feet right under your body. But how does one actually do that?
I may have found a clearer, more executable way to rephrase this tip. When you approach each bump, instead of attacking it with the front of your skis, try to give it a very gentle kiss with the rear half of your downhill ski.
Try this out - it may do wonders!
Yours truly, on a rare icy day in Hakuba, Japan 🇯🇵
「怎麼那一天的我們，
都默默的微笑很久？」
Sharing a giant pastel de nata for breakfast. 云顶 - 河北崇礼
No run-ins with the law today.
The law, apparently, also likes them donuts. 😝
"When I get to Hell or Heaven, can I bring my girl?
'Cause she likes romance, good sex, music, and ruling the world"
- Slicked Back, Zach Bryan
Lately I’ve been sitting for long hours labeling data. I'm grateful that Zach Bryan just dropped - his music made my dull afternoons fly by.
Of all his listener portraits, I doubt Zach Bryan imagined his latest album would end up offering this kind of mental comfort to some guy labeling hours of surgical robotics footage. But here I am, and I wanna say: thank you.
Cowboy boots and six-seven pumpkin.
There's this giant mountain in front of you. On the other side of the mountain is everything you ever wanted.
But right behind you is a cozy cabin. Inside, a steak, hot chocolate, and a warm bed.
Which way would you go?
- Luke Nassif, from our conversation at Harvard Square, Jan. 8, 2026.
Hiking up Volcán de Fuego, Antigua, Guatemala.
A high schooler asked me today - how did I get into Hopkins 4 years ago. I had no idea, I said.
I applied early decision to Johns Hopkins, so it was one of the very few schools I crafted an application for - that's nowhere near a big enough sample size to draw conclusions about the "how" or "why."
My personal statement was about my love-hate relationship with dirt bikes and motocross. It certainly did not speak to any academic promise. As much as my essay was a gamble, so was the admissions officers' decision to admit me.
I guess these two bets didn't turn out too bad.
After the race.
On the icy moguls of Stowe, Vermont, I offered a buddy a small piece of advice and watched his confidence grow with every run. What a gratifying feeling.
Don’t fight the ice. Don’t try to stop where nothing will hold us.
Allow it to carry us forward.
Wait for the soft places - the pockets of powder -
and slow down there, where the mountain finally gives us something to stand on.
Stowe, Vermont, above the clouds.
Gratitude, I believe, is one of the ingredients for inner peace.
Starting today, I'll be noting small things I'm grateful for - sometimes tiny things.
Here's the first: I'm thankful for the driver ahead of me on snowy mountain roads.
They go first, over the chaos hidden in slush and ice,
and, without ever knowing me,
guide me safely to the ski hill -
and back home again.
Meet my truck, Christy.