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10/09/2004: "A few peices of paper..."

Its funny how life just is so...there. You get up in the morning, you get your coffee, you go to school, you come home, you do your work, you sleep. So there.

Im filling out college applications. Ive been told I will get a full ride to a private college because of my ACT scores and grades. Wonderful, but I dont want to go there. Its an all girls school, it doesnt have the major I want, and to get the major, I would have to study colaterally at the school I really want to go to. They would make me go to church, something I strongly do not believe in forcing, yet they do. Its all about the 'family' and 'team work' if anyone reads this and knows me, I am not miss team work. Playing flag football to get to know other students isnt my idea of fun. The school is a last resort.

So I am filling out applications to the University I really want to go to. The basic university application is done online, peice of cake. But I get to the honors application, 12 pages. Not so easy. Hardest essay questions ever, so many things about out of school work, and other 'activities'. But thats not really what upsets me...its the fact that my future is dependent on these few peices of paper. If I dont get into the honors school, the regular school dorms are basically unlivable...and it would still cost me. I would go to the 'free' school, full ride...even if it is the school I do not want to go to.

Im not...'special', not unless you know me. On the outside, on these peices of paper, they see a girl who volunteered at a church and library, and who held a job for one month. Thats all. They see I got good ACT scores and good grades...but what about personality? Nonexistant. Its all numbers, figures. How am I supposed to tell them about myself in a essay about a quote from Proust? Or from an essay on high and low art? Its not possible. They will just see black and white print.

They wont see that I worked in a library for two years because I loved working with children and helping them read. They cant see that I work every wednesday at a church with 1st graders because they are the cutest things in the world, and they love me. They do not know I only had a job for a month because I had a seizure that put me in the hospital for a week, then moved to another state only two days after that. They wont know why I never participated in sports, except for one year. I cant explain that in a essay about antibiotic resistent bacteria. Its not possible.

I just am unhappy that determing my life comes down to some group of people 'analyzing' the past four years of my life, and seeing if I am good enough for them, and if I am good enough to invest in. Its a damn sad world.



*sighs*