Monday, February 28, 2011

I take it back

I've told a few people that I just want to have an answer on grad apps, even if it's a bad answer. I lied. I don't want to know. Maybe ever. I want to live in a blissful state of "the admissions committee is so enthralled by my application they are unable to leave it to send me an acceptance." It's a nice place.

It's an awful place. But at least there is hope. A glimmer. Or a large chunk of "no chance in hell, but enjoy it while it lasts."

Am I being overdramatic? Maybe. But tonight was my first in what I'm almost positive will be a long list of "Deny." And this was the worst kind of deny. Not a letter (or I'll take an email) with a gentle but firm tone of "we had so many qualified applicants." I'd even take the "seriously? you thought you'd get in here? enjoy your inflated sense of self-worth, but enjoy it far away from our hallowed institution." This was a one-word update to my application status: Deny.

There's some catharsis in writing this post, so please, no sympathies. It's stupid and awful and part of me wants to curl up and cry, and the other part of me wants to write a poem so brilliant that they'll be physically ill when they realized they could have accepted me.

But I wouldn't want to go there anyway.*

*This is a lie.

Thursday, February 24, 2011

and another thing

I've been told it's normal to want to punch someone/thing when you're waiting to hear back on grad apps. At least, this is what Sven and I decided today in a burst of sibling affection (laced with violence).

It has been a month since I decided I could write anything here. There were several reasons, the biggest one being that my life was consumed with a surprise birthday party (which became parties) for a long-time reader (Hi Mom!), so I couldn't write about it here. And if I wasn't writing about cakes and invitations and fabric flowers, what was I going to write about?

Maybe those darn grad school apps. At this point, I just want to know. Even if it's bad news (especially if it's bad news). I want to move forward. I feel like I'm stuck in jail during a particularly tedious game of Monopoly and I can't roll the right combination of the dice. Eventually I'm going to have to pay my fine. . . oh wait. I already did that.

When I'm being completely honest with myself (which I rarely am), I just want to move back to Utah. I miss being close to family, and there are things I feel I should be in Utah for. I want to be there when Seth gets home. I want be around for Maryn's high school events. And I want to be in SLC so that I can nephew-sit. Because Sam is only the coolest kid ever.

But I can't justify hauling my life back to Utah without a job or grad school or something. I know my family would support me, but when do I get to start being an adult? Every once in a while, I get the faint whiff of adulthood, but then I walk back into my glorified-dorm-room of an apartment, or I listen to my friends talk about buying houses and raising children, or I eat another bowl of Cheerios for dinner (or better yet, half a box of Eggos because they're there), and I just can't handle it.


In other news, the most perfect staging of "As You Like It" ever. If I have to live in a world, can I live in that one? With poems hanging from trees and a man who realizes it's better to play the fool than be wise?

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