College Applications Retrospective
I finished collecting college responses last week, after a final fiendish battle through the trecherous pathways and navigational eddies of having-to-actually-call-Gettysburg-and-ask-them-what-was-going-down. Apparently, through the space of notifying me that they had, indeed, recieved my application and would study it forthwidth, and the time they had accordingly decided to relinquish their grasp upon the arcane knowledge of my acceptance status, they had somehow managed to lose a character from my email address. Where this character went, we will never know. Who recieved my notification instead of me, we will also never know, although, since it was another dastardly rejection, I cannot think that it would've caused too much of a kerfluffle. However, the world is a strange place, and someone unwittingly recieving a rejection notice may have pushed them over an edge. Shit may or may not have happened.
But, I digress. I must check my galloping horses of un-helpful tangentness.
Let me just say this: I picked a poorly time to set my sights on America. Because, not long after the tender bud of the concept burst into bloom within my brainpan, shit went down. And when I say shit, I mean the economy. And when I say down, I mean like the Titanic after being holed by a meddlesome iceberg, armed to the very chilly teeth with LASER CANNONS. That was no tearful scrabble over a floating door kind of sinking, that's just a big FWOOOOSH, GLUG GLUG GLUG.
Then, due in some part to the unholy machinations of this world economy, as I am led to believe, application numbers are up. A whole bunch. World-wide. I guess the general collective of humanity realised. "Money is good. People who know more shit get more money. Therefore, university is the place for me!" Of course, to paraphrase Dak'kon (the balls-out-awesome), there's knowing, and there's knowing. I believe I would truly have come to know that shit. Alas, the only loss is theirs.
I believe you will have gathered by now that my applicationary process did not go as swimmingly as I had hoped. The final tally stands as two affirmatives, and five negatives. Unfortunately, the two colleges who saw through my thin veil of ineptitude and batshit insanity of an education, to the fearsome intellect that harboured beyond, were both unable to provide the required funds to make this foolish adventure a possiblity.
To sum all the previous up: "Oh, balls."
However, being of such stout mind as I am, my current mindset is: "Oh well."
Yes, that is correct. I have cast the die and moved a square or two onwards upon my trail to victory. I will admit, I took a little damage when the first pair of rejection notices turned up in my inbox, hawking their miserable message to the nearby emails as they waited for my perusal. But, my mind was quickly diverted to other matters. It only struck me then that my glorious plan could fail. A secondary path should be acquired as expeditiously as could be done. Once again, my mind turned to my first love, who hung about the periphery of my knowledge, waiting for me to realise that we were meant to be together: The Media Design School, and their uberly-intense course in game development.
Even handier - their next admissions are June 8th, which is immensely appealing. For the last few weeks, nay, months, my mind has been wandering around a desert of listlessness, thirsting for something to drive it onwards. My quest for knowledge had been postponed for the duration of what can only be described as work. I must admit, the thrill of watching money hurl itself willingly onto your account balance, in great big fortnightly chunks, is immensely satisfying. The loathesome task of hauling your sleep-deprived carcass out the door every morning, is not. To do it near-purposelessly, is less so. Yes, less than not. So, the June 8th start is seen as a immense boon, one that I eye almost hungrily. Because, kids, learning is fun!
I suppose some of you might point out that if nothing came of these college-application-shenanigans, what was the point of them? Perhaps I am so liberal with my money, that I decided to throw away approximately over a grand for nothing? If you ask that, you are a fool, and I pity you as such. My primary goal I was unable to complete, but even failing it provided a sense of closure. No longer will I second-guess my choice - it may be a forced choice, but it is sitll a choice - to study in New Zealand, as I am able to do it knowing that I explored this pathway as far as it would lead me. I may tick off that section of my map, and contentedly too. Not only that, but the challenge of having to conjure up a means to show the truth of my awesomeness to a foreign entity has provided me with a sense of pride. Because, yes, that shit got done. My doing-of-shit skills have been tested, and found worthy. My blade of shit-doing has been bloodied. You get the picture.
Now, there are some elements of this decision that I will regret. The June 8th start means that I will be unable to send my corporeal presence on tour in America again this year. No doubt that will dishearten one and all. Believe me, it has struck a chord in me too, like an E-flat of gloom, but I will persevere, and vow to make my next expedition across the great Pacific waters to be a longer and mightier one than the last. When, and if I return from that voyage, the face of America will know my impression upon it, and, yea, it will be awesome.
I am still compiling my application for the MDS, the body and soul of which I hope to send out by Friday. That is correct, my cross-continental friends, I am applying for a tertiary education with only a month and a half before it begins. Cause that, my friends, is how we do it. It is much more glorious, and I am pleased to be back to the familiar and sane. Of course, I could be rejected from there, and then that truly would suck, but no matter. I will strive onwards and upwards.
Now, if only I could end my frakking story-writing drought... oh shit, three in the am, I must be up in less than five hours. How much do I loathe you work? So much. So very, very much.
But, I digress. I must check my galloping horses of un-helpful tangentness.
Let me just say this: I picked a poorly time to set my sights on America. Because, not long after the tender bud of the concept burst into bloom within my brainpan, shit went down. And when I say shit, I mean the economy. And when I say down, I mean like the Titanic after being holed by a meddlesome iceberg, armed to the very chilly teeth with LASER CANNONS. That was no tearful scrabble over a floating door kind of sinking, that's just a big FWOOOOSH, GLUG GLUG GLUG.
Then, due in some part to the unholy machinations of this world economy, as I am led to believe, application numbers are up. A whole bunch. World-wide. I guess the general collective of humanity realised. "Money is good. People who know more shit get more money. Therefore, university is the place for me!" Of course, to paraphrase Dak'kon (the balls-out-awesome), there's knowing, and there's knowing. I believe I would truly have come to know that shit. Alas, the only loss is theirs.
I believe you will have gathered by now that my applicationary process did not go as swimmingly as I had hoped. The final tally stands as two affirmatives, and five negatives. Unfortunately, the two colleges who saw through my thin veil of ineptitude and batshit insanity of an education, to the fearsome intellect that harboured beyond, were both unable to provide the required funds to make this foolish adventure a possiblity.
To sum all the previous up: "Oh, balls."
However, being of such stout mind as I am, my current mindset is: "Oh well."
Yes, that is correct. I have cast the die and moved a square or two onwards upon my trail to victory. I will admit, I took a little damage when the first pair of rejection notices turned up in my inbox, hawking their miserable message to the nearby emails as they waited for my perusal. But, my mind was quickly diverted to other matters. It only struck me then that my glorious plan could fail. A secondary path should be acquired as expeditiously as could be done. Once again, my mind turned to my first love, who hung about the periphery of my knowledge, waiting for me to realise that we were meant to be together: The Media Design School, and their uberly-intense course in game development.
Even handier - their next admissions are June 8th, which is immensely appealing. For the last few weeks, nay, months, my mind has been wandering around a desert of listlessness, thirsting for something to drive it onwards. My quest for knowledge had been postponed for the duration of what can only be described as work. I must admit, the thrill of watching money hurl itself willingly onto your account balance, in great big fortnightly chunks, is immensely satisfying. The loathesome task of hauling your sleep-deprived carcass out the door every morning, is not. To do it near-purposelessly, is less so. Yes, less than not. So, the June 8th start is seen as a immense boon, one that I eye almost hungrily. Because, kids, learning is fun!
I suppose some of you might point out that if nothing came of these college-application-shenanigans, what was the point of them? Perhaps I am so liberal with my money, that I decided to throw away approximately over a grand for nothing? If you ask that, you are a fool, and I pity you as such. My primary goal I was unable to complete, but even failing it provided a sense of closure. No longer will I second-guess my choice - it may be a forced choice, but it is sitll a choice - to study in New Zealand, as I am able to do it knowing that I explored this pathway as far as it would lead me. I may tick off that section of my map, and contentedly too. Not only that, but the challenge of having to conjure up a means to show the truth of my awesomeness to a foreign entity has provided me with a sense of pride. Because, yes, that shit got done. My doing-of-shit skills have been tested, and found worthy. My blade of shit-doing has been bloodied. You get the picture.
Now, there are some elements of this decision that I will regret. The June 8th start means that I will be unable to send my corporeal presence on tour in America again this year. No doubt that will dishearten one and all. Believe me, it has struck a chord in me too, like an E-flat of gloom, but I will persevere, and vow to make my next expedition across the great Pacific waters to be a longer and mightier one than the last. When, and if I return from that voyage, the face of America will know my impression upon it, and, yea, it will be awesome.
I am still compiling my application for the MDS, the body and soul of which I hope to send out by Friday. That is correct, my cross-continental friends, I am applying for a tertiary education with only a month and a half before it begins. Cause that, my friends, is how we do it. It is much more glorious, and I am pleased to be back to the familiar and sane. Of course, I could be rejected from there, and then that truly would suck, but no matter. I will strive onwards and upwards.
Now, if only I could end my frakking story-writing drought... oh shit, three in the am, I must be up in less than five hours. How much do I loathe you work? So much. So very, very much.