Oooo. I found the essay I applied to UMass with!
It’s 1:23 in the morning, and here I am. Parked in front of my computer, listening to a short polish woman talking about her bad haircuts. Meanwhile, my instant messenger is keeping me connected to a tiny Russian girl who refers to herself as the "rain fairy," and a 21 year old person from Massachusetts who refers to himself as the"hug bitch". My computer proceeds to babble incoherently. Which means I have a new message. Rock on. A brand new window pops up, and excitement is in the air. Although it could just be the garbage my roommate left on the floor for three months. The message reads, "do you want some free sex?" After less than a half-second of consideration, I smote another of those cursed popup ads. The rain fairy decides to interrupt the smiting with some wonderful stories about her upraising. As a result, I think back to my life as a kid. Ah, the memories. Like that day I was written up on the bus for kissing all the boys. Oh, and then there's those times the girls would hunt me in packs and beat me senseless. And then all those near-death experiences on the metal playground equipment embedded on solid cement. Come to think of it, my childhood sucked. But we grow. And as that little trip through memory lane ends, my mind goes elsewhere . . . I marvel at my new shamrock print boxer shorts. Why? Because that's probably the best sense of style I've ever had. Although I'm not sure whether to be proud of that. Probably not. I most likely could have saved myself the cash and just tattooed "geek" on my forehead. Would I do it in reverse so i could see it in mirrors? No, let it be an early warning system for others... kind of like those "beware of dog" signs. Where was I? Upbringing? No... Bloody hell, I have the attention span of a guppy. Ah, yes. There I was. As I observe my geatest underwear purchase ever, a siren starts to go off. The fashion police? No... Animal control after the roommate’s leftover pizza? No. Ah. There we are. The roommate left his computer on. A big bright flashing pop up ad is saying "Warning! There could be pornography on your computer!" All I can think is "HA! Could be?" I do the world the service turning his computer off, thus preventing the transferrence of any more copies of "Debbie Does Midgets". And post-pornum, I opt to change from a whiny polish woman, to some of today's most recent pop music. However, that pop music happens to be from China. I begin to flail around the room, which I colorfully refer to as "getting my groove on." I look to my monitor just in time to find out that the hug bitch is going to bed like most "rational people" do at this hour, and the rain fairy has left a message telling me she's gone for a frolic. My dance ceases as I stare blankly at the white offramp to the information super highway. I stop to think about the last 15 seconds of my life. The hug bitch has implied that I am insane, and the rain fairy is frolicking. At 2 AM I think it's time that I go to bed. It is then, that an epiphany comes to me. These special little insanities are what keep me interested. And I like that. I leap into bed, reassured that instability is where I feel the most stable.