(no subject)
I'm feelin giggly-desperate.
STORY OF MY LIFE: Colleges do not get my transcripts/letters of intent/rec letters until many moons after I send them. WHAT IS WRONG WITH OUR MAILBOX.
This week may or may not have been an awful failure in the amount of work I've had to get done. I have my last, last application due tomorrow. Of course I am procrastinating. Instead, I updated the Lips Blog (which has some pretty intense shit without my help anyway), read part of the novel for kinship and family, drank lots of coffee and, conversely, napped. I also thought I would hear from some schools earlier. It has not happened yet, to which Liz immediately replied, "big packages take longer to ship." love me some Liz. As it gets closer, I am less sure of what to do. In my heart of hearts I know this last application, my ADVANCE UPON BELGRADE, is just not going to work out. Even if I get it. My dad is a basketcase; he will die.
This is part of the real world: dreaming with limits. I have not yet been abroad, but I plan for it all the time. I plan for the Spring Break Service Trips that won't happen because I'm working, at the park, I plan on getting a master's in some bullshit like "international economic and political studies" but who will fund it? I think about studying at Boston College, my dad will just hate the Pope some more.
One day, my photojournaling and Hague-endorsed ideas of my BELGRADE EXPERIENCE will work out, but I know right now this shit is real futile and laughing. Like my Chapel Hill application, where they asked me "what 3 anthropological concepts are you interested in? i.e. multivalency, chiefdom models, etc." Lord knows I put something like "1) Boundary 2) Identity 3) Social." It's all in good fun.
You and I are just going to pretend it's real life for the next five or six hours.
STORY OF MY LIFE: Colleges do not get my transcripts/letters of intent/rec letters until many moons after I send them. WHAT IS WRONG WITH OUR MAILBOX.
This week may or may not have been an awful failure in the amount of work I've had to get done. I have my last, last application due tomorrow. Of course I am procrastinating. Instead, I updated the Lips Blog (which has some pretty intense shit without my help anyway), read part of the novel for kinship and family, drank lots of coffee and, conversely, napped. I also thought I would hear from some schools earlier. It has not happened yet, to which Liz immediately replied, "big packages take longer to ship." love me some Liz. As it gets closer, I am less sure of what to do. In my heart of hearts I know this last application, my ADVANCE UPON BELGRADE, is just not going to work out. Even if I get it. My dad is a basketcase; he will die.
This is part of the real world: dreaming with limits. I have not yet been abroad, but I plan for it all the time. I plan for the Spring Break Service Trips that won't happen because I'm working, at the park, I plan on getting a master's in some bullshit like "international economic and political studies" but who will fund it? I think about studying at Boston College, my dad will just hate the Pope some more.
One day, my photojournaling and Hague-endorsed ideas of my BELGRADE EXPERIENCE will work out, but I know right now this shit is real futile and laughing. Like my Chapel Hill application, where they asked me "what 3 anthropological concepts are you interested in? i.e. multivalency, chiefdom models, etc." Lord knows I put something like "1) Boundary 2) Identity 3) Social." It's all in good fun.
You and I are just going to pretend it's real life for the next five or six hours.