posted
I think you're crazy. I also don't think all-around prestige is as important as having a good reputation in whatever it is that you're studying.
Posts: 9057 | Registered: Nov 2000
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posted
Eddie, I think the multiple contradictory images you keep trying to cultivate get in the way of your attempts to discover who you actually ARE.
Posts: 37449 | Registered: May 1999
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posted
FYI, if you defer and then back out, universities get REALLY ticked. I had to write Columbia a letter to get them off my back.
Posts: 32919 | Registered: Mar 2003
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I sent the admissions director (or someone thereabouts) a letter a while back.
Now I'm being offered an $18,000 scholarship, apparently.
I don't know the details -- she left it as a message on our answering machine, and my mom erased it before I got the chance to hear it -- but this tilts the playing field dramatically.
Doesn't it?
Crap. This may mean I can't take next year off.
I, crap, I've got no idea how I'm feeling about this. Thrilled to get the scholarship, angry at the loss of my time, disappointed in the vaporization of what wild fantasies I've entertained... Yeesh...
Man. I could use a hug. Possibly some oral sex. I really gotta clear my mind.
Posts: 3293 | Registered: Jul 2002
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posted
God alone knows. I'm not sure what the hell's going on -- apparently the woman at the admissions office said if I were to attend NYU, there are $18k in scholarships I could have. My mother's under the impression that means they'll give me $18k if I go there. I'm suspicious that they mean I can apply for $18k in scholarships and see what happens.
And if is apply-for money, I won't win it. My GPA is absolute shit -- all that's saved me are my testing scores and essays. And in this latest revelation, probably the letter I sent the admissions office back, what, a week or two ago.
Gah.
I need to clear my head.
Posts: 3293 | Registered: Jul 2002
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1) Take a firmer hand in your own future. Understand the finances and requirements.
2) Stop pretending to want things that you don't actually want. You don't get style points for acting callow.
Posts: 37449 | Registered: May 1999
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quote: Confidence is when you can admit your weaknesses and prize the strength of others, not when you deceive yourself into think you have no weaknesses and believe that all who don't agree with you are automatically wrong.
Though possibly meaningless coming from me, Squick, that's a fantastic way to articulate that.
posted
Tom, I'm not sure I understand you. How much firmer a hand can I take in my future than I am? Granted, I need to decide what the hell I'm going to do, but when I figure that much out, I'm set to do it.
I'm not, as you complained, "pretending to want things you don't actually want" -- whatever the hell that means. Your disapproval of my "acting callow" can refer only to my expressed desire for oral sex -- while I am picky about potential donors, heh, I swear on my honor, I really would appreciate some right now. As far as the sailing fantasy goes, it's one hell of a temptation. But I may not be able to take up on it, because...
...NYU's letter is due to be postmarked by tomorrow. Yeah. God alone knows why my mother a) erased the message and b) didn't tell me this earlier, but I've just been informed that I'll have to mail my acceptance by tomorrow, or not at all.
As ironic as this is coming after my protestation that I have firm control over my life, due to the deadline, I have no choice but to mail the damn thing. And dammit, I think I'm happy about it. NYU's one hell of a university -- it may not have a beach, but hell, it's NYC.
But damn, I'll miss that beach. I may never have another chance to live alongside one. Nor may I know such an easygoing environment ever again.
It looks like I'm making up my mind. NYU's my choice, if the scholarship money is real. And if the money is real, I may go for my freshman year, then, as Jeni suggested, during my sophomore year take a "vacation term" and learn to be a sailor in the Atlantic then, when my scholarship's safely secured.
But, dammit, I'm not happy about this. I'll have responsibilities then, friendships and lovers and financial concerns. Responsibilities I can't lightly throw away for a year -- right now, none of my friendships in MeatSpace are particularly binding, given that we don't expect to see each other again once we graduate. I'll never have such independence from the affairs of men again.
If I can, I'll ask that my scholarship be deferred for a year along with my admission. If it can't, I have no choice but to attend next year.
I'll miss UCSB. A damn fine school. But ultimately, all it has to offer is a school -- NYU can offer me NYC. Wall Street and Central Park. Hookers walking Times Square and prostitutes in business suits. Though the place doesn't have the appeal it once did -- neither Sean nor Eddie live in NYC anymore -- I'm sure I'll find something up there worth spending time with.
Oy. My emotions are ridiculously divided over this decision. On the one hand, NYU's the college of my dreams, and has been for years -- on the other, what kind of responsibilities am I taking on by bearing the heavier yoke of a high-pressure world? If my knees buckled under the gentle hand of high school, how the hell am I going to carry New York on my back?
I know I need some time off, something to focus my life on than getting by in classes that barely interest me. This need is in no small part motivation for my bike tour -- I want to disengage my mind from my arm for some time, to live life without thinking too deeply on it. This bike tour's perfect -- I loved running for its ability to blank out my thoughts to the rhythm of my feet, and I can do the same this summer, by focusing on the simple task of pumping my feet to the tune in my earphones. The sea holds that same beautiful simplicity -- I can lose myself in the early mornings and easy beauty of the open sea, concentrating less on what I need to do than what I want to do.
Well, no, it's not that I want to disengage my mind -- I'm after simplicity, not stupidity. Simple responsibilities to ensure my independence and autonomy from complex problems. Running to the sea to find this life is admittedly a damn stupid fantasy, but I think it's doable -- one of my few gifts is my strength, and I don't think I need much to join a seasonal crew, union issues aside. If I can do this, I want to -- not for the sacks of money and oodles of prestige I'm bound to get from the job, but for the greater rewards of a hard job done well by the strength of my arm in a beautiful environment. For knowing other aspects of life before I commit to any one avenue of it. The life of a laborer is hard, but hell, people come from my father's country every day to work for daily wages a fraction of what I would make hourly, their shaky careers found in much harsher conditions, with much more difficult work. For my part, I can at least pretend to know a job that requires sweat before I lose whatever chance I ever had to exercise such a lifestyle.
Posts: 3293 | Registered: Jul 2002
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posted
"Your disapproval of my 'acting callow' can refer only to my expressed desire for oral sex..."
Well, no. It refers to a number of things in which you express mostly feigned interest -- like a fishing career, New York whores, and so on. I'm sure, like most people, you find these things just briefly intriguing -- but like most people, Eddie, you know they're not for you. Unlike most people, though, you feel the need to hang them out there as valid options to serve as a kind of shield, a distraction from the life you ACTUALLY want to be living.
And trust me, you aren't taking control of your college options. You don't know how much the schools cost, you don't know what your scholarship options are, you haven't applied for any independent scholarships, and you frequently contacted me a day or two before the final day an essay was due to get my opinion on it. This does not constitute an organized approach to your future.
(As a side note, I think you perhaps overestimate the "simplicity" of being a whaler, and underestimate the men involved. I know quite a few people who're now fishermen who got college degrees -- and, if you're still attracted to the possibility, keep in mind that fishing is a popular summer job with a certain college crowd, depending on your willingness to travel -- and be trapped on a boat for three months with a bunch of middle-aged men with moustaches.)
posted
Not much surprises me, Lalo. Not that you're younger than I assumed or that you're going to as great a school as NYU.
Nice work, mate. Congratulations.
And to echo what so many others have said, you'll be a different person in a few years. Women will find you attractive and life will be sweet. I used to think that chicks'd never dig me. It wasn't a problem once I was comfortable with who I am.
quote:Well, no. It refers to a number of things in which you express mostly feigned interest -- like a fishing career, New York whores, and so on. I'm sure, like most people, you find these things just briefly intriguing -- but like most people, Eddie, you know they're not for you. Unlike most people, though, you feel the need to hang them out there as valid options to serve as a kind of shield, a distraction from the life you ACTUALLY want to be living.
You misunderstand in a big way here, Tom. I've no interest in a fishing career -- but as a seasonal job before I go back to education? I'm very interested. I don't underestimate the men involved -- god knows I have much to learn about fishing, starting with which end of the pole to hold -- but if little else, I'm good muscle, and quick to learn. I've no idea what's left to do on a boat that isn't done better by a machine -- hauling in nets, stacking crates, navigating, etc. -- but surely they can find a use for me somewhere. I don't demean the worth or education of a whaler; I only accurately judge the sort of job I'm experienced enough for on a fishing expedition.
My references to the many prostitutes of New York, if you've paid attention, are cracks at Republicans and businessmen. I find little intrigue in contracting venereal disease, and even less understanding of why you decided to believe I held such an interest.
As far as your declaration that "you feel the need to hang them out there as valid options to serve as a kind of shield, a distraction from the life you ACTUALLY want to be living" -- which life is it, exactly, that I'm so intent on living? If you know, tell me -- I'm rather fuzzy on the details, myself.
As far as my understanding of the schools goes... Tom, read my second post in this thread. It lists the total costs of each college, including tuition, housing, meal plans, etc. I've been frightfully negligent in the independent scholarships, true, but only because I know I won't qualify for any. Hell, my PSAT score was high enough to win me a National Merit scholarship -- unfortunately, since my GPA is below a 3.5, I won only a "National Merit Honor" award. Similarly, to qualify for the National Hispanic Scholar (or some similar title) award, I needed to score in the top 2% of Hispanics, I believe. Which, of course, I did. But GPA was too low for me to be considered a scholar -- I won a similar honor from the society, and nothing more. There are some few scholarships around that don't demand my GPA, I know, and I feel guilty for not applying for them -- however, failure to apply for scholarships represents only added future cost on my shoulders; irresponsibility, not lack of control. An irresponsibility which, might I add, a seasonal fishing job would have helped me pay off.
As far as the essays go, you were a great help with the UC essays. I can't thank you enough. But those were due in November. The rest of my applications were due months later, and I relied on Eddie's ridiculously patient help for those. I won't deny that I frequently waited until the last second to write my essays -- my NYU essay, in particular, was written in quite literally the eleventh hour, my older essay scrapped in light of last-minute advice from my heterosexual soulmate and NYU alumnae Sean -- but for the most part, my essay was fairly well-crafted and honed for weeks thanks to poor beleagured Eddie's revision. I did send it to you in the last second, as an afterthought -- no disrespect is intended, but you weren't key in crafting this essay, and your advice, while invaluable, couldn't possibly suggest anything Eddie hadn't already tossed out -- but I placed little responsibility on your shoulders, at least for those. Similarly, I tossed it out to Moose, who caught some damn important revisions. I contacted both him and you because I hold enormous respects for your intellects and I was willing to whore out my essay to whoever could refine it just that much more; but while I'm enormously grateful for both your help, there's no denying Eddie's far larger burden of gratitude from me. That is to say, while you were damn helpful, my ultimate victory in NYU (the essay for which Eddie edited even as I wrote each succeeding paragraph) and most others is due to the help of Eddie, with whom I collaborated for quite some time.
But now that I have that out of the way -- honest, guy, I don't know how I've lessened myself in your eyes (unless, understandably, all the useless dissipation in this thread is getting to you), but neither did I realize I had become such a pathetic manic that you would come to disbelieve me when I declare my interest in a certain field. You don't know me as well as I'd like and your family to, but for the record, I have a standing love for Melville, and no slight interest in experiencing what few aspects of his life still available today. I also love the sea, despite my embarrassing penchant for throwing up whenever I board a ship -- I doubt I'll ever be Ahab born again, but there's no reason why I shouldn't try out the sea while I'm still young and strong and responsibility-free enough to carry through with the dream.
Unless, of course, I'm no longer responsibility-free. God, I hope I can defer this scholarship, provided it exists in the first place.
Posts: 3293 | Registered: Jul 2002
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posted
Heh, of course they find you attractive, EG -- you've got a foreign accent. How can they resist?
As far as my fears go, I worry not so much that women won't eventually find me attractive, but that in time what slight grip I have on the steel pole of youth will weaken with age, and my exotic dance will abruptly end with wounded pride and a damaged body, incapable of returning to any semblance of its former, if not glory, power. But I've been meaning to update this thread and correct several understandably mistaken impressions for some time -- even I'm nowhere near narcissistic enough to create a landmark centered around my, sigh, oh-so-wonderful beauty. Heh. No, my problem lies with the same goddamn problem that's plagued every philosopher and angst-ridden fourteen-year-old girl for the past couple millenia -- the irreversible and unrepairable flow of time, which yes, does rob us of youth, strength, and beauty; but more importantly, steals opportunity from between my fingertips, its theft usually irreplacable and always costly to what few opportunities available for exploitation lie in what little future I have remaining.
Posts: 3293 | Registered: Jul 2002
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Well you ARE totally ignorant about commercial fishing. In this day and age it rarely involves a pole, and mostly involves nets. Haven't you ever been to the docks and watched them unload fish with the seagulls circling overhead? It is a smelly business and probably directly related to why I don't like seafood. And I have a friend who went to Alaska to do that for a summer and very much enjoyed herself, however I think you will find it to be a lot of physical labor just like your planting trees was. The best summer job I know of though it involved a lot of physical labor, was the friends I had who spent the summer as trail hands in Yosemite packing the researchers and mtn climbers supplies in by horseback, and running horsback tours for tourists.
posted
It's true. You are going to age. Your physical well being will peak. Your body will eventually start to deteriorate. You are going to die. People will forget you. Life will move on. What does that have to do with your life?
If life, ageing, death, and obscurity freak you out, you are very insecure. That is ok tho, you are still only 18. Your view on life now will change in 5, 10, 20, 30, 50 years. It is good that no one’s maturity is static.
Posts: 1034 | Registered: Mar 2004
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posted
The first 7 paragraphs of Eddie's first post followed by
quote: Others have led insignificant lives as well, serving no purpose but consumption of the resources of the world
show more of an obsession and insecurity of ageing then he will have in 5, 10, 20 years. People's maturity is not static. I hope to hell I am more mature in 30 years then I am now, and it would be ridiculous to think I have peaked in my understanding of life. It should be comforting to Eddie to know that how he feels now will probably not be how he feels during the rest of his life.
Posts: 1034 | Registered: Mar 2004
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quote: My mother's under the impression that means they'll give me $18k if I go there. I'm suspicious that they mean I can apply for $18k in scholarships and see what happens.
in his post. Seriously, why aren't you calling this woman back and asking which it is?
Posts: 3956 | Registered: Jun 2001
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posted
ditto celia, the phone is a cheap and easy way to find out!
AJ
(Actually I assumed you were calling since it is merely common sense. It never dawned on me that you might not. If your mother complains about the phone bill, expending a few dollars to find out about 18K in scholarships and a decision that effects the rest of your life, is more than a fair trade.)
posted
Yeah, I thought so as well, but since no one had mentioned it, I thought I should just in case. I would hate to find out tomorrow that he missed today's postmark because it didn't occur to him to call.
posted
For the record, I was gonna mention calling the Admissions Office about the 18 grand, but Celia wins the "addressing the most immediate concern" award. -Bok
Posts: 7021 | Registered: Nov 1999
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posted
The sun, the sun, the sun, Our tulip stretchs his final little inch--until Spread-eagled broken blooms reveal Nothing much, and fall, or flutter, One by one by one
To ground. There, Beside a green shoot of some waking beauty the petals fade back to themselves.
I saw it all happen this morning, While I walked to the corner store To buy some more milk for my coffee: The flower collapsed, like a bad metaphor.
Posts: 575 | Registered: Jan 2002
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