Pomona
It tends to be my conviction that holding things (or people) in too high regard is a plea for disappointment. Expectations can't be exceeded if you idolize something, and they can certainly be left unsatisfied.
My two days at Pomona failed to confirm this conviction.
The campus isn't the marvel Occidental is, but the dorms (in Wig, at least) are massive and trees are everywhere. I don't want to think about how much water they must spend maintaining such a wonderland of greenery in the middle of a desert, but they make up for it with the sustainability of everything else. My sponsor spent about ten minutes talking to me in total (a very friendly, informative ten minutes) but I was alone for very little of the first day. Granted, I spent at least half of it with at least one person I already knew, but Pomona students who I had never met before took me under their wings with tremendous friendliness. Pomona freshmen, it seems, are very excited by prospies.
(Also, I just have to add that Harvey Mudd is a mecca of magnificent geeks. If my academic interests remotely lined up with it, I would so apply. But they don't, so I am relegated to telling the many math/science fans at Newport that this is so much better than the schools they want to go to.)
Today I visit classes. This has been somewhat problematic since the first two I had planned were both canceled or relocated for the day. The third was not, though, and it was lovely. I take my last class after lunch (Claremont food, incidentally, is insanely delicious.) chimena has suggested it's laced with meth.
I'm not sure how I'll react if I'm rejected from here. Sure, I'll end up somewhere I like--I'm only applying places I like--but this school feels so perfect for me. Even walking from the dorm to classes, shivering because the weather of California and Washington swapped just in time for my arrival, I felt so...peaceful and cheerful. Which is corny, but still.
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