I once believed that Senioritis was a completely manufactured ailment. Last night, I didn't even start my homework until approximately 1:00 a.m. I've discovered the joys of formspring.me and it's kept me up into the wee hours of the morning each night this week. Needless to say, Senioritis is a completely real and especially dangerous illness.
In completely unrelated news, the primary concern of late has been nonrecognition. You'll have to understand that I attend a school for academic elite. For many, this is a source of over-inflated egos. And with over-inflated egos comes desperation for recognition. I understand this, and I think that my understanding makes it a little less painful to watch most of my accomplishments in high school (which aren't accomplishments as much as they are things that I worked my ass off to finish) go unrecognized. I've never gotten recognition for anything until this point so I'm grateful that I'm getting medals and such. Things I've gotten in the past month: $30 from the regional chapter of the American Chemical Society from placing in the top 16 on the Competitive Exam in Southwest Michigan (I could have done better last year and gotten more money, but oh well) and a Merck Index; all the things I mentioned for band, a medal (and $12,000) from the National Merit Scholarship, some "platinum" cord for maintaining a GPA of 4.0+ through high school. These will be followed by a gigantic medal from KAMSC and a diploma from PC, and hopefully I'll get my eagle before I turn 18. Needless to say, I'm incredibly happy with my current circumstances, academically. Especially since I have about four days of school left.
There are some people, though, who can't handle the feelings of inadequacy that plague everyone who's ever attended a KAMSC awards ceremony. Or really any awards ceremony for that matter. I know people who skipped KAMSC's awards ceremony because they were afraid of being humiliated (even though they ended up winning considerably more than most). I know another person who ripped up another senior's expensive research project board out of anger that the student won a ton of awards. And on a more personal level, I felt ripped off at PC's thing, since I know I can kick the shit out of anyone who won a science award (they exclude KAMSC people from these), and they basically skipped over the National Merit Scholarship, the only thing I was really "recognized" for. So even I'm the victim of ego inflation. Damn.
If humility is a virtue, then we are all terrible people, redeemed only by the fact that almost everybody actually deserves to be recognized if they worked hard in high school, rather than just float on a cloud of natural intelligence - basically, what I did this last year. I really do think, though, that the very-smart-but-not-top-tier students should get recognized more, because everybody wants recognition. When you're excluded from normal school for being too smart and from awesome school for not being smart enough, it can damage your self-esteem a bit. For obvious reasons, more on this topic will come after graduation.
May 23, 2010
May 14, 2010
Eagling and Extras
Last weekend, I carried out my long-overdue eagle project. Yes, I am a boy scout. Somewhat redeemed by the fact that I actually intend to become an eagle scout. The demographics of the scouting activity in America follows a sort of trough of normalcy. Everybody does Cub Scouts, so that's when it's at its peak level of "normal." Then, all the "cool" kids quit and in the middle school days boy scouts ends up being a gathering of sort of odd, socially inept youths. I was one of them. But then once you get into the older days of boyhood some of the kids attain the rank of eagle, and these are usually the best people you can know. Because the whole "Eagle" thing basically says that you are of a certain caliber in life. That's why everybody who gets it is so proud of it, and why everybody shows respect for them. That's my justification for that. Plus the high adventures are really fun. One of the best times of my life was spent at Philmont Scout Ranch in Cimmaron, New Mexico.
Anyway, yeah, last weekend I did my project, which was removing garlic mustard from Bishop's Bog Preserve in my city. I had lots of trouble getting it approved for no comprehensible reason. The people in charge of my approval were obsessed with details - the only truly valid point they made was regarding how I would feed my volunteers. So basically, I just rambled more about everything (less concisely) and they agreed that it was much better. I'm over it.
So the last possible date that I could conceivably do the project was the Saturday, May 8th. It was about 45 degrees, wet, windy, and frigid. I was so afraid that people wouldn't show up, even though I invited about 90 people. Luckily I managed to acquire 20, even though I never had more than 15 at any given point in the day. We also didn't remove as much (in terms of acreage) as I had initially envisioned, but that's because it takes so long to remove the plant - it grows in huge, dense swaths in the woods. However, I'm not complaining about it, because we filled 88 gigantic bags full of weeds by the end of the day. This is a lot. I'm very thankful for everyone who helped me achieve my goal. Now I just have to write up my project, get a few recommendation letters, get a bunch of approval signatures, and finally acquire two extra merit badges before I can meet a Review Board and hopefully join the coveted rank of Eagle. (For the record, merit badges are the bane of my existence and also the reason why a lot of kids quit Boy Scouts. They are the biggest waste of time and effort imaginable. So don't judge me by them.)
In unrelated news, this week also marked my final experience in my school's band and in Legends Indoor Ensemble. (I still will call it "Legends Brass and Percussion Ensemble" though, because renaming something "Indoor" is one of the things I will never agree with. Winter Legends? Maybe. There are winter drumlines. But there aren't any "indoor drumlines") Each year the seniors inherit a letter of the alphabet and dress up according to a theme that begins with that letter. In 2007, the theme was Z for "zombies". In 2008, the theme was A for "AARP" and everybody dressed as old people. It was quite clever. In 2009, the theme was B for "bums". This year we had the letter C, and we decided to use a "circus" theme. Turns out it was a fantastic theme. I wore a Tyvec suit built for a person who is 7 feet tall (XXXXL, I shit you not), a big elastic belt, a far-too-small blue ski helmet with a red star on it, and a superheroesque black cape with a larger red star on it. I was the human cannonball. It was awesome. Some other costumes included three clowns, a strong man, a few magicians, fortune tellers, a ringleader, a lion tamer, a creepy balloon-animal-guy, a bearded lady, and a mime. There are more, I know it, but I can't remember them right now. Anyway, I played timpani for one piece called "Instinctive Travels" by Michael Markowski. It was okay. The stage we played on wasn't our own, so it sounded odd and I screwed up a little bit as a result. After that, Legends played. It wasn't a great performance, percussion-wise. Whatever. I was sort of expecting that. It was a pretty mediocre concert. Oh well.
The next day we had our band banquet. The seniors were supposed to do a rainbow with their shirt colors. I was supposed to be yellow. There isn't a fucking yellow shirt on this god damned Earth. So instead, I wore the tackiest shirt possible. (Nevermind the fact that I look like I'm about 11 years old)
Anyway, yeah, I managed to make the rainbow really awkward and broken. But I wore this one for the sole sake of being able to ACCOMMODATE ALL THE COLORS BECAUSE I'M SPECIAL.
I was recognized for three things that night, two of which I was expecting.
Overall, it was a decent week. I'm happy to be blogging again, however uninteresting the content/reflection is. I spent most of April and the early portion of this month pretty damn depressed (for reasons that aren't worth sharing until they're completely in the past) and it's good to know be able to find a place to semi-address it in a way that isn't a complete emotional exhibition.
Anyway, yeah, last weekend I did my project, which was removing garlic mustard from Bishop's Bog Preserve in my city. I had lots of trouble getting it approved for no comprehensible reason. The people in charge of my approval were obsessed with details - the only truly valid point they made was regarding how I would feed my volunteers. So basically, I just rambled more about everything (less concisely) and they agreed that it was much better. I'm over it.
So the last possible date that I could conceivably do the project was the Saturday, May 8th. It was about 45 degrees, wet, windy, and frigid. I was so afraid that people wouldn't show up, even though I invited about 90 people. Luckily I managed to acquire 20, even though I never had more than 15 at any given point in the day. We also didn't remove as much (in terms of acreage) as I had initially envisioned, but that's because it takes so long to remove the plant - it grows in huge, dense swaths in the woods. However, I'm not complaining about it, because we filled 88 gigantic bags full of weeds by the end of the day. This is a lot. I'm very thankful for everyone who helped me achieve my goal. Now I just have to write up my project, get a few recommendation letters, get a bunch of approval signatures, and finally acquire two extra merit badges before I can meet a Review Board and hopefully join the coveted rank of Eagle. (For the record, merit badges are the bane of my existence and also the reason why a lot of kids quit Boy Scouts. They are the biggest waste of time and effort imaginable. So don't judge me by them.)
In unrelated news, this week also marked my final experience in my school's band and in Legends Indoor Ensemble. (I still will call it "Legends Brass and Percussion Ensemble" though, because renaming something "Indoor" is one of the things I will never agree with. Winter Legends? Maybe. There are winter drumlines. But there aren't any "indoor drumlines") Each year the seniors inherit a letter of the alphabet and dress up according to a theme that begins with that letter. In 2007, the theme was Z for "zombies". In 2008, the theme was A for "AARP" and everybody dressed as old people. It was quite clever. In 2009, the theme was B for "bums". This year we had the letter C, and we decided to use a "circus" theme. Turns out it was a fantastic theme. I wore a Tyvec suit built for a person who is 7 feet tall (XXXXL, I shit you not), a big elastic belt, a far-too-small blue ski helmet with a red star on it, and a superheroesque black cape with a larger red star on it. I was the human cannonball. It was awesome. Some other costumes included three clowns, a strong man, a few magicians, fortune tellers, a ringleader, a lion tamer, a creepy balloon-animal-guy, a bearded lady, and a mime. There are more, I know it, but I can't remember them right now. Anyway, I played timpani for one piece called "Instinctive Travels" by Michael Markowski. It was okay. The stage we played on wasn't our own, so it sounded odd and I screwed up a little bit as a result. After that, Legends played. It wasn't a great performance, percussion-wise. Whatever. I was sort of expecting that. It was a pretty mediocre concert. Oh well.
The next day we had our band banquet. The seniors were supposed to do a rainbow with their shirt colors. I was supposed to be yellow. There isn't a fucking yellow shirt on this god damned Earth. So instead, I wore the tackiest shirt possible. (Nevermind the fact that I look like I'm about 11 years old)
I was recognized for three things that night, two of which I was expecting.
- Being a senior (expected)
- Being in a leadership position (expected)
- Being an "outstanding senior musician" (what?)
Overall, it was a decent week. I'm happy to be blogging again, however uninteresting the content/reflection is. I spent most of April and the early portion of this month pretty damn depressed (for reasons that aren't worth sharing until they're completely in the past) and it's good to know be able to find a place to semi-address it in a way that isn't a complete emotional exhibition.
April 29, 2010
An Incoherent, Questionably Cathartic Series of Old Dreams
This will be the most absurd thing I'll post in a while, but I want to put it here in order to make it appear as if I've had the urge to post more than I actually have. There's been quite a bit to post about in my life, but there wouldn't be that much to read... as in, "this kid is a tremendous dung heap of emo."
So instead I'll share with you some of the dreams I've had in the past month or so, both of which I remember fairly well, which is an oddity. I feel that the fact that I remember them means that they have some sort of significance regarding my recent outlooks on the world.
Dream 1: Last summer in DCI there was a school in Florida where we stayed for a little while. I remember it because it had a roof similar to that of a pizza hut. Anyway, next to the school was the field where about everybody but us rehearsed, which was miserable because it was saturated with mud. We went down there (it was on a gigantic hill, which was also a problem) and played for about 15 minutes before ominous storm clouds rolled in. We were left with just enough time to push everything back up the hill and cover our equipment under a tarp and head inside to practice on the floor. Almost immediately after entering the school, the rain started coming down, quickly and heavily. Eventually it built into a monsoon-like storm (in the eyes of a Michigander) and started leaking into the building - we were incredibly worried about our equipment. It was mostly fine, but we were still awed.
Anyway, that was the real-life experience. In my dream, it was cold and the mud was frozen. I associated it with what approximates to a Michigan November. Me and a couple band kids (not drum corps kids) were randomly horsing around and shouting and laughing when another kid I know randomly whips out a pistol and shoots a girl in the shoulder. Everyone instantly falls silent in shock. The kid with the gun expresses regret and attempts to explain his action with, "I thought it would be funny." Yeah, my dreams are weird. But that's the last sound that I hear other than the sound of my own voice. I take the girl up to my car, except she gets in the driver's seat and I'm in the passenger's seat. I'm urging her to let me drive to the hospital, although I'm clearly making no attempts to do so. She sits there crying silently, when suddenly she changes into another guy I know in the blink of an eye. I continue to urge him to let me drive, but everything else around me is still completely silent and it's weird. That's the point where I can't remember anything else.
Dreams 2-4: These happened in rapid succession, and due to the vague lines that distinguish dreams this may or may not have actually been the same dream. The first thing I remember is that I was in a completely white room with these weird pod-type small rooms cut into the sides of the wall. Each of these pods is like a half-shell, lined with a round bench - and the walls and seat are completely covered in red velvet. It looks like a space-age jazz club. Anyway, in each of these pods is one woman who I can't remember, but I remember that I had made them upset or had hurt them all at one point in my life. And I sing songs to them in my dream. I can't remember which ones. But I can play the guitar in this dream, which is kind of cool.
After this, I end up somehow on a train to "South Bend" which is an overnight train ride in my dream logic, even though South Bend, Indiana is a little over an hour from my city by car. My entire family is on this train for some reason. My grandpa spends much of the time playing Freecell and I watch him. There's more but my memory of it is a bit too vague.
This is the point where things start getting "significant-feeling." We all get off at "South Bend" which is a disgusting 19th-century backwater farming community. After wandering around in dusty trails through the woods for a bit, I come across a farmyard completely filled with hundreds of Great Danes. I have to cross from one end of this yard to the other, which is on a downward slope. The dogs mostly keep to themselves though, and I get through without any issues. At the bottom of the yard/hill is a shed, and around the other side of this shed is sort of a flat circus ring (without the ring) and a set of bleachers full of teenage girls. They're all wearing the same clothes (which was a white t-shirt, black shorts and roller skates) and frantically trying to grab crows and other random birds out of the air as they fly above them. Naturally, I am confused. I ask one of them what they are doing, and suddenly the entire troupe runs down the bleachers into the "ring" and, out of nowhere, perform this elaborately choreographed disco rollerskating routine. When the song ends and they finish dramatically, I begin clapping (it was quite an impressive feat) only to be startled by the sound of an adult woman's voice yelling, "MOVE OUT" to the group of girls. Suddenly, they all sink into the dirt, and they begin moving down a short little trail through the woods. I can see them because I'm following their tracks in the dirt. As I round the last bend of this trail, I end up following them onto the beach of the North Shore of South Haven, Michigan. The sun is setting. I run ahead of them on the beach, which I remember being a difficult task because I was suddenly wearing hiking boots. When I finally reach the head of the group, they all suddenly climb out of the sand and congratulate me for getting ahead of them. I spend the rest of the walk down to South Haven's pier talking to and befriending these girls. When we get there, there is a gigantic floating tour bus waiting for them to leave on. I am very sad about this for some reason. They all skate another routine to the one song I remember being present in these dreams: "What If God Was One Of Us." It was also pretty good. We all give each other our goodbyes and they pile into the bus and float down the remainder of the Black River which dumps out into Lake Michigan from the pier(s). I chase them all the way down the pier, waving at them as they wave back at me. I wait at the end, watching them float off onto the horizon as the sun sets. It's sort of beautiful. I remember it being really bittersweet, mostly because I was going to miss them a lot for a reason that can only be explained as dream logic. By the end they are floating right in front of the sun as the last sliver slips below the surface of the water. As this happens, everything goes dark and I startle awake. I was crying when I woke up.
I've already recited this story to the people I feel are most capable of making a legitimate stab at its meaning. Since it's my own mind, of course, I am the least capable interpreter of my dreams. They may end up meaning that in my dreams I am a crazy person, but I can't help but feel that all of these dreams reflect something important in my life of which I'm not very aware.
So instead I'll share with you some of the dreams I've had in the past month or so, both of which I remember fairly well, which is an oddity. I feel that the fact that I remember them means that they have some sort of significance regarding my recent outlooks on the world.
Dream 1: Last summer in DCI there was a school in Florida where we stayed for a little while. I remember it because it had a roof similar to that of a pizza hut. Anyway, next to the school was the field where about everybody but us rehearsed, which was miserable because it was saturated with mud. We went down there (it was on a gigantic hill, which was also a problem) and played for about 15 minutes before ominous storm clouds rolled in. We were left with just enough time to push everything back up the hill and cover our equipment under a tarp and head inside to practice on the floor. Almost immediately after entering the school, the rain started coming down, quickly and heavily. Eventually it built into a monsoon-like storm (in the eyes of a Michigander) and started leaking into the building - we were incredibly worried about our equipment. It was mostly fine, but we were still awed.
Anyway, that was the real-life experience. In my dream, it was cold and the mud was frozen. I associated it with what approximates to a Michigan November. Me and a couple band kids (not drum corps kids) were randomly horsing around and shouting and laughing when another kid I know randomly whips out a pistol and shoots a girl in the shoulder. Everyone instantly falls silent in shock. The kid with the gun expresses regret and attempts to explain his action with, "I thought it would be funny." Yeah, my dreams are weird. But that's the last sound that I hear other than the sound of my own voice. I take the girl up to my car, except she gets in the driver's seat and I'm in the passenger's seat. I'm urging her to let me drive to the hospital, although I'm clearly making no attempts to do so. She sits there crying silently, when suddenly she changes into another guy I know in the blink of an eye. I continue to urge him to let me drive, but everything else around me is still completely silent and it's weird. That's the point where I can't remember anything else.
Dreams 2-4: These happened in rapid succession, and due to the vague lines that distinguish dreams this may or may not have actually been the same dream. The first thing I remember is that I was in a completely white room with these weird pod-type small rooms cut into the sides of the wall. Each of these pods is like a half-shell, lined with a round bench - and the walls and seat are completely covered in red velvet. It looks like a space-age jazz club. Anyway, in each of these pods is one woman who I can't remember, but I remember that I had made them upset or had hurt them all at one point in my life. And I sing songs to them in my dream. I can't remember which ones. But I can play the guitar in this dream, which is kind of cool.
After this, I end up somehow on a train to "South Bend" which is an overnight train ride in my dream logic, even though South Bend, Indiana is a little over an hour from my city by car. My entire family is on this train for some reason. My grandpa spends much of the time playing Freecell and I watch him. There's more but my memory of it is a bit too vague.
This is the point where things start getting "significant-feeling." We all get off at "South Bend" which is a disgusting 19th-century backwater farming community. After wandering around in dusty trails through the woods for a bit, I come across a farmyard completely filled with hundreds of Great Danes. I have to cross from one end of this yard to the other, which is on a downward slope. The dogs mostly keep to themselves though, and I get through without any issues. At the bottom of the yard/hill is a shed, and around the other side of this shed is sort of a flat circus ring (without the ring) and a set of bleachers full of teenage girls. They're all wearing the same clothes (which was a white t-shirt, black shorts and roller skates) and frantically trying to grab crows and other random birds out of the air as they fly above them. Naturally, I am confused. I ask one of them what they are doing, and suddenly the entire troupe runs down the bleachers into the "ring" and, out of nowhere, perform this elaborately choreographed disco rollerskating routine. When the song ends and they finish dramatically, I begin clapping (it was quite an impressive feat) only to be startled by the sound of an adult woman's voice yelling, "MOVE OUT" to the group of girls. Suddenly, they all sink into the dirt, and they begin moving down a short little trail through the woods. I can see them because I'm following their tracks in the dirt. As I round the last bend of this trail, I end up following them onto the beach of the North Shore of South Haven, Michigan. The sun is setting. I run ahead of them on the beach, which I remember being a difficult task because I was suddenly wearing hiking boots. When I finally reach the head of the group, they all suddenly climb out of the sand and congratulate me for getting ahead of them. I spend the rest of the walk down to South Haven's pier talking to and befriending these girls. When we get there, there is a gigantic floating tour bus waiting for them to leave on. I am very sad about this for some reason. They all skate another routine to the one song I remember being present in these dreams: "What If God Was One Of Us." It was also pretty good. We all give each other our goodbyes and they pile into the bus and float down the remainder of the Black River which dumps out into Lake Michigan from the pier(s). I chase them all the way down the pier, waving at them as they wave back at me. I wait at the end, watching them float off onto the horizon as the sun sets. It's sort of beautiful. I remember it being really bittersweet, mostly because I was going to miss them a lot for a reason that can only be explained as dream logic. By the end they are floating right in front of the sun as the last sliver slips below the surface of the water. As this happens, everything goes dark and I startle awake. I was crying when I woke up.
I've already recited this story to the people I feel are most capable of making a legitimate stab at its meaning. Since it's my own mind, of course, I am the least capable interpreter of my dreams. They may end up meaning that in my dreams I am a crazy person, but I can't help but feel that all of these dreams reflect something important in my life of which I'm not very aware.
April 23, 2010
The Movies
Recently my passion for movies has been ignited ferociously. I don't know what triggered it, but if I had to guess it would be nostalgia. Anyway, I've decided to compile a list of some of the best movies that I've never seen before and watch one a day in the month of June. I'll probably create a spin-off blog or something. This list is also subject to change at my whim, so stay tuned.
Anyway, here is the list of movies that I am required to see but somewhat amazingly have not (or not, I'm updating this for new releases/discoveries):
American Beauty
Lost in Translation
Requiem for a Dream
Groundhog Day
Grizzly Man
Say Anything
Ghost World
Half Nelson
O Brother, Where Art Thou?
Rushmore
Dancer in the Dark
Attack the Gas Station
Kick-Ass
Pulp Fiction
There Will Be Blood
The Godfather (any of them)
The Silence of the Lambs
The Truman Show
In Bruges
Platoon
Citizen Kane
The Thing
Annie Hall
A Clockwork Orange
Star Wars Episode VI: Return of the Jedi (I've seen every single one but this. I don't know why either. But it is one of the only real sci-fi movies on here other than...)
Blade Runner (and...)
Plan 9 from Outer Space (notoriously terrible movie created by...)
Ed Wood (starring Johnny Depp, who was also in...)
Chocolat
Apocalypto never watched it but currently boycotting Mel Gibson
Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon
Almost Famous
Raising Arizona
Metropolis
The Room This movie has fucking changed my life.
Oldboy
Solaris
Fargo
Brazil
Labyrinth
Defending Your Life
Le fabuleux destin d'Amélie Poulain
A Scanner Darkly
High Fidelity
The New World
Dark City
Grave of the Fireflies
Y tu mamá también
Gentlemen Broncos
(Untitled)
Vanilla Sky
127 Hours
Blue Valentine
Eyes Wide Shut
Fearless
Mulholland Drive
21 Grams
25th Hour
Anyway, here is the list of movies that I am required to see but somewhat amazingly have not (or not, I'm updating this for new releases/discoveries):
American Beauty
Lost in Translation
Say Anything
Ghost World
Attack the Gas Station
There Will Be Blood
The Godfather (any of them)
The Silence of the Lambs
In Bruges
Platoon
Citizen Kane
The Thing
A Clockwork Orange
Star Wars Episode VI: Return of the Jedi (I've seen every single one but this. I don't know why either. But it is one of the only real sci-fi movies on here other than...)
Blade Runner (and...)
Plan 9 from Outer Space (notoriously terrible movie created by...)
Ed Wood (starring Johnny Depp, who was also in...)
Chocolat
Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon
Raising Arizona
Metropolis
Solaris
Fargo
Labyrinth
Defending Your Life
A Scanner Darkly
High Fidelity
The New World
Dark City
Grave of the Fireflies
Y tu mamá también
Gentlemen Broncos
(Untitled)
Blue Valentine
Eyes Wide Shut
Fearless
Mulholland Drive
21 Grams
25th Hour
April 10, 2010
College Balls
It's getting pretty close to the time when I have to decide which college to go to. Actually, it is that time - I'm just slower than everyone else. It seems like the only people who ever want to talk about college are those who aren't actually at the point where they are choosing which one to go to, like me. This includes everybody that isn't a senior in high school, and, to a greater extent, those people who have been dead-set on going to a certain school for their whole lives, or at least since they first visited that school. I don't even know what I want to do in college, just that I want to go there - it's where I belong. I wasn't even sure what type of college I would like, so I applied to six very different ones.
Right now, my choice is basically between two - and one choice is much easier to make than the other. The University of Michigan is the easiest choice for me - I have a fair amount of scholarship money on that one, too. The Colorado School of Mines is the other choice, because I have much more money in scholarships to go there than U of M, and it's in Colorado (far superior to Michigan), and I think the people there are nicer/better too. The only problem is that it's really far away, and I also noticed upon visiting that everybody in the state of Colorado is really extreme. You know, the let's-go-mountain-biking-off-cliffs-and-whitewater-raft-off-cliffs-and-shoot-animals-off-cliffs-and-have-sex-off-cliffs-and-battle-Nazis-off-cliffs type of people. They really like their cliffs out there - trust me, I know. They have plenty. Purdue University is essentially a more-expensive version of Michigan, which is why I won't be going there. The Rose-Hulman Institute of Technology was alright, but I am almost certain that I wouldn't care for the people there - they are all nerds, but I'm discovering that - despite being a nerd myself - I don't really care for most other nerdy people. Being in close proximity to uber-intellectuals for most of my life, the majority of them are either a bit too socially awkward or have had their ego inflated to the size of a titanic zeppelin. I think that the atmosphere would be a bit too uncomfortable for my liking. Northwestern wait-listed me, and I don't care to be on that wait-list, so I won't be going there. But for the record, getting on the wait-list was a bigger accomplishment than I expected to achieve. Finally, Michigan Tech. This is a little tragic. I actually think that I genuinely would have liked that school, potentially more than all the others, but I never got the chance to visit it. Since distance would be one of the main reasons against going there, it would have been crucial for me to make the drive there and back to determine if I would want to go there, and I never did. So that gets crossed off the list.
My guidance counselor will not be happy with me for being so wish-washy on this important decision, but frankly, I'm just happy that I eliminated four options. I'll have to decide immediately upon visiting U of M on the 16th whether or not I can go there.
Right now, my choice is basically between two - and one choice is much easier to make than the other. The University of Michigan is the easiest choice for me - I have a fair amount of scholarship money on that one, too. The Colorado School of Mines is the other choice, because I have much more money in scholarships to go there than U of M, and it's in Colorado (far superior to Michigan), and I think the people there are nicer/better too. The only problem is that it's really far away, and I also noticed upon visiting that everybody in the state of Colorado is really extreme. You know, the let's-go-mountain-biking-off-cliffs-and-whitewater-raft-off-cliffs-and-shoot-animals-off-cliffs-and-have-sex-off-cliffs-and-battle-Nazis-off-cliffs type of people. They really like their cliffs out there - trust me, I know. They have plenty. Purdue University is essentially a more-expensive version of Michigan, which is why I won't be going there. The Rose-Hulman Institute of Technology was alright, but I am almost certain that I wouldn't care for the people there - they are all nerds, but I'm discovering that - despite being a nerd myself - I don't really care for most other nerdy people. Being in close proximity to uber-intellectuals for most of my life, the majority of them are either a bit too socially awkward or have had their ego inflated to the size of a titanic zeppelin. I think that the atmosphere would be a bit too uncomfortable for my liking. Northwestern wait-listed me, and I don't care to be on that wait-list, so I won't be going there. But for the record, getting on the wait-list was a bigger accomplishment than I expected to achieve. Finally, Michigan Tech. This is a little tragic. I actually think that I genuinely would have liked that school, potentially more than all the others, but I never got the chance to visit it. Since distance would be one of the main reasons against going there, it would have been crucial for me to make the drive there and back to determine if I would want to go there, and I never did. So that gets crossed off the list.
My guidance counselor will not be happy with me for being so wish-washy on this important decision, but frankly, I'm just happy that I eliminated four options. I'll have to decide immediately upon visiting U of M on the 16th whether or not I can go there.
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And upon having done so, I'm attending the University of Michigan next fall. Stereotype fulfillment? Maybe. But it feels good to have all that college balls out of the way.
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