the story of how cheryl got deferred from princeton or how wendy ate her tongue

Dec 13, 2004 21:49

3.20 school is over and after a day's anxiety i call my sister to see if THE package is waiting for me. it's not. my sister wishes she didn't have to tell me so. people ask if i got in, i say deferred, they give me the arm squeeze and "i'm sorry."

4.00 at the international center of photography i develop my film. i'm listening to devendra banhart and he's telling me "this is the way." i'm ok. i'm rationalizing. it's ok. princeton's probably not for me anyway.

7.00 dinner. i'm sulking. my dad's watching me sulk and then starts yelling at me to stop sulking. i start crying and it's like an invitation for him to yell at me some more. why didn't i get in? i'm not driven enough. my essay expressed no goal, no direction. i am goal-less, direction-less. this is why i should exercise.

7.15 my eyes are burning. the salt irritates my skin. my father tells me to fix the living room lamp because it'll distract me. see how it works?

7.30 i decide the process is unjust, demoralizing, time to move on. except it burns when i think about who got in. oh it burns.
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