Entry: The Fifty-First--Madre Montero
The agony of the college application process never ends. Three years removed from my own torturous trials, I’m trapped within my brother’s dreadful struggle. The problem isn’t him, of course. The problem is my maniacally micromanaging mother, who is back to “assist” him with every detail of every application... back [insert dramatic pause] with a vengeance!
It’s true; this whole episode reads like a clichéd movie sequel. The return of the nefarious villain. A new hideous scheme. A younger sibling rises up to battle the arch-villainess, while his older brother, in a cameo, dispenses wise advice. I am Anthony Hopkins in The Mask of Zorro*, teaching Adam to parry nagging and fend off maternal anxiety while he fights for the noble ideal of college admission. It’s a tough role, though he’s an eager disciple, with ample training already in gratification and evasion. We’ll both be stronger, if we survive this. The only problem is getting there.
You’re probably wondering why this ordeal is so taxing for me. I’m sitting on my butt searching IMDB**, not frantically bullshitting why each of seven different small liberal arts colleges is the perfect one for me. And the direct intrusions are minor ones. Sure, I’ve edited an essay or two or four, but I can handle that. Nor do the random questions on phrasing and syntax bother me. (Quick! Evaluate the following phrase: “students overflowing with intellectual curiosity”. Acceptable? Unacceptable? Not optimal. but still okay? Provide evidence to support your argument). What bothers me is that my normally calm and rational mother is out of her mind. The most innocuous topics become linked to my brother’s application process. A conversation this afternoon:
Me: Is the house colder than usual? I’m wrapped in a blanket, wearing a sweater, and I’m still shivering.
Mom: You can turn up the heat if you like. (pause) But don’t turn it up too high. The computer room can get like a furnace, and I’m afraid if it gets too hot Adam will stop working.
*sigh* The idea that any part of our perpetually frigid house would be remotely furnace-like in December is ludicrous. But still not as ludicrous as her fear that raising the thermostat two degrees would completely destroy Adam’s ethic. Or that that's the first concern that leaps to her mind.
I feel bad for the kid, I do. He reminds me of those rare animals locked up in zoos, earmarked to reproduce. His habitat is tailored to the tiniest detail; he’s given “privacy” to work, though his progress is checked four times an hour; and any satisfaction he might gain from the process is lost in an incredible push for results. If he was producing baby pandas instead of personal statements, the analogy would be complete. As it is, he’s suffering.
I do what I can to help. Two hours ago I hid him in my closet so we could go over his essay without intervention. Mom came to the door and I claimed ignorance. She wandered off to continue the search for her protégé, while we discussed dangling participles in hushed tones. My current effort is to convince her to rent a movie, to take her mind off the matter, and her off his case. She wildly protests: “But Adam might want to work on his application. We have to be available to look it over or edit it!”
That’s the current state of affairs, though things have quieted since the last mail pick-up a few hours back. Tomorrow, though, is another matter...
*Hot movie news! According to IMDB, 2005’s “Legend of Zorro” will feature Catherine Zeta-Jones riding alongside Zorro as his new masked(!) partner. How cool is that? I’m already dying for this movie to be released, just to hear the updated fem critique.
**More IMDB randomness: a search for “Zorro” reveals not only 8 title matches and 59 partial matches (including “Zorro, the Gay Blade” and “The Erotic Adventures of Zorro”), but one poor actor with that unfortunate surname. Perhaps it was this handicap that limited his movie career to two less-than-stellar titles: Transsexual Prostitutes, and its disappointing sequel, Transsexual Prostitutes 2.
It’s true; this whole episode reads like a clichéd movie sequel. The return of the nefarious villain. A new hideous scheme. A younger sibling rises up to battle the arch-villainess, while his older brother, in a cameo, dispenses wise advice. I am Anthony Hopkins in The Mask of Zorro*, teaching Adam to parry nagging and fend off maternal anxiety while he fights for the noble ideal of college admission. It’s a tough role, though he’s an eager disciple, with ample training already in gratification and evasion. We’ll both be stronger, if we survive this. The only problem is getting there.
You’re probably wondering why this ordeal is so taxing for me. I’m sitting on my butt searching IMDB**, not frantically bullshitting why each of seven different small liberal arts colleges is the perfect one for me. And the direct intrusions are minor ones. Sure, I’ve edited an essay or two or four, but I can handle that. Nor do the random questions on phrasing and syntax bother me. (Quick! Evaluate the following phrase: “students overflowing with intellectual curiosity”. Acceptable? Unacceptable? Not optimal. but still okay? Provide evidence to support your argument). What bothers me is that my normally calm and rational mother is out of her mind. The most innocuous topics become linked to my brother’s application process. A conversation this afternoon:
Me: Is the house colder than usual? I’m wrapped in a blanket, wearing a sweater, and I’m still shivering.
Mom: You can turn up the heat if you like. (pause) But don’t turn it up too high. The computer room can get like a furnace, and I’m afraid if it gets too hot Adam will stop working.
*sigh* The idea that any part of our perpetually frigid house would be remotely furnace-like in December is ludicrous. But still not as ludicrous as her fear that raising the thermostat two degrees would completely destroy Adam’s ethic. Or that that's the first concern that leaps to her mind.
I feel bad for the kid, I do. He reminds me of those rare animals locked up in zoos, earmarked to reproduce. His habitat is tailored to the tiniest detail; he’s given “privacy” to work, though his progress is checked four times an hour; and any satisfaction he might gain from the process is lost in an incredible push for results. If he was producing baby pandas instead of personal statements, the analogy would be complete. As it is, he’s suffering.
I do what I can to help. Two hours ago I hid him in my closet so we could go over his essay without intervention. Mom came to the door and I claimed ignorance. She wandered off to continue the search for her protégé, while we discussed dangling participles in hushed tones. My current effort is to convince her to rent a movie, to take her mind off the matter, and her off his case. She wildly protests: “But Adam might want to work on his application. We have to be available to look it over or edit it!”
That’s the current state of affairs, though things have quieted since the last mail pick-up a few hours back. Tomorrow, though, is another matter...
*Hot movie news! According to IMDB, 2005’s “Legend of Zorro” will feature Catherine Zeta-Jones riding alongside Zorro as his new masked(!) partner. How cool is that? I’m already dying for this movie to be released, just to hear the updated fem critique.
**More IMDB randomness: a search for “Zorro” reveals not only 8 title matches and 59 partial matches (including “Zorro, the Gay Blade” and “The Erotic Adventures of Zorro”), but one poor actor with that unfortunate surname. Perhaps it was this handicap that limited his movie career to two less-than-stellar titles: Transsexual Prostitutes, and its disappointing sequel, Transsexual Prostitutes 2.