University Locked
For those of you close to me, I've probably told you roughly sixty-two times at least that I want to go to Sir Wilfrid Laurier University at Brantford. Well, that didn't really work out. If I was going to be accepted I should have been accepted by now, so my mom, always like this, pressured me to contact the school and ask them "What's going on?"
So I got an e-mail telling me that certain aspects of my application were below their cut-off threshold. I told a friend about this and they told me to get off my @ss and start asking questions about this. I asked the important people and they told me that they'd look into it.
I got a call from Ms. Tracy, my guidance councillor after school. "I've talked to Kevin, the man you oversaw the admission process."
"Uh-huh."
"Yes, well he told me the problem wasn't with your marks, which are terrific. Let me ask you how many "teaching-related" hours you have?"
"Uh... not a lot."
"Yeah, well they said you had less hours then they usually accept for their applicants."
"Oh."
The rest of the conversation doesn't truly matter, it was just me trying to get off the phone as fast as possible and Ms. Tracy trying to sound reassuring. The thing she left me with was, "Well, if I were you I'd accept Brock's offer."
The terrible thing is that this has come back and bitten me right where it hurts. I laughed at Brock with the best of them and now I'm actually going to go there.
I'm sure that many years from now when I'm in my thirties and feeling sentimental I'll say, "Imagine if I went to Laurier instead, I never would have..." Certain people, let's call them Carey, or Lauren, say that I'm one of those people that meet their loved ones and significant others at university and essentially are those married at twenty-five types. I think Carey/Lauren has lost her mind. Going to Brock won't be so bad, it just wasn't my first choice. It's a bigger school, it's housing isn't as nice, but I really don't have any more choices.
So I got an e-mail telling me that certain aspects of my application were below their cut-off threshold. I told a friend about this and they told me to get off my @ss and start asking questions about this. I asked the important people and they told me that they'd look into it.
I got a call from Ms. Tracy, my guidance councillor after school. "I've talked to Kevin, the man you oversaw the admission process."
"Uh-huh."
"Yes, well he told me the problem wasn't with your marks, which are terrific. Let me ask you how many "teaching-related" hours you have?"
"Uh... not a lot."
"Yeah, well they said you had less hours then they usually accept for their applicants."
"Oh."
The rest of the conversation doesn't truly matter, it was just me trying to get off the phone as fast as possible and Ms. Tracy trying to sound reassuring. The thing she left me with was, "Well, if I were you I'd accept Brock's offer."
The terrible thing is that this has come back and bitten me right where it hurts. I laughed at Brock with the best of them and now I'm actually going to go there.
I'm sure that many years from now when I'm in my thirties and feeling sentimental I'll say, "Imagine if I went to Laurier instead, I never would have..." Certain people, let's call them Carey, or Lauren, say that I'm one of those people that meet their loved ones and significant others at university and essentially are those married at twenty-five types. I think Carey/Lauren has lost her mind. Going to Brock won't be so bad, it just wasn't my first choice. It's a bigger school, it's housing isn't as nice, but I really don't have any more choices.