July 7, 2001 (Part 1)

April 28 represents the second stage of my post-April 3rd life. On April 3, I received the letter from Northwestern explaining that I'd been placed on their waiting list. And it's been downhill from there, basically.

Right now, I'd say I'm in the fifth stage. It's been an odd, long way down. To be flying high on March 25, to be reminded of those heights for the whole two months I spent falling, and to finally land here- my lack of ability to believe it (I'm living in a nightmare bubble sent to me by the goblin king) is what keeps me describing my existence as my "post-April 3rd life." It actually began back in September last year, when my English teacher doubted that I was challenging myself enough by applying to the schools I did; he actually felt that I was selling myself short.

But what are the facts, you ask. Okay, those first. April 3rd: Northwestern letter; crying, sobbing, shock, horror, end of life-feelings in general; I'm going to the University of Wisconsin-Madison, or the University of Michigan. Mid-April: I'm going to the University of Wisconsin-Madison; send in the check to UW, the little rejection postcard to UM; get a letter describing the amazing financial aid I would have received from UM, if I hadn't just sent in that little rejection postcard; oh well, maybe that suggests good news from UW too. May 4-14: no financial aid from UW- $7,000 in loans, which, when added to the loans we'd have to take out to cover the rest, comes to about $20,000 a year; they actually say on their financial aid letter that it will be hard for me to attend their school; I'm not going to UW-Madison; father calls University of Illinois at Chicago and explains the situation, they forget their deadlines and send me an application. June: graduated on the 9th and made a speech; accepted to UIC; I'm going to University of Illinois at Chicago for a semester or a year; I'm staying at home. July: start looking for new colleges; the application process begins again.

So, so many mistakes.

Good-bye, Ms. Self-esteem. Hello, Mr. Heartache. (it's a song, not sexism)

I spend a lot of time tearing up, a lot of time thinking, a lot of time getting over it. This is a new place for me. It's not failure, exactly. It's German class, junior year. It's an arrogant Riversidian telling me I live in a fairy tale land, and I am in for a rude awakening. It's sympathy with a pinch of "I told you so." It's what happened.

I'm not sure what will happen to me. I don't know if I'm in for that wonderful acceptance letter, or a diploma from UIC. I don't know what I have learned except depression and cynicism, and I don't know how that will help me. I'm back to "I don't know," and I thought that was so three years ago.

Should I bother with my memorized disclaimer? UIC is not a bad school- it's not it's not it's not. It's just not where I want to go, partially because it does not offer the programs I want to study. I could be off to Harvard, but if I had my heart set on Princeton, I would still be mourning the lost opportunity.

At the same time, I'm sick of all this. Okay, so this sucks and it will continue to suck for some time, but it probably won't suck for all time (I'm enjoying my limited vocabulary in this sentence, are you?). Because I'm still going to college, and I'm incredibly lucky that a college like UIC was willing to ignore their deadlines for me. Because I rocked my AP exams, so I have something of a brain to work with. Because everything that has happened this year does not erase the past 18, does not erase me. Because it's still starting completely over, it's still not high school. Because perhaps everyone is right, perhaps things happen for a reason. For a good reason.

I'm reading Tom Robbins' (notice the correct use of the apostrophe! Eat your heart out, MLA!) Skinny Legs and All, and there is a part that I love especially. "It occurred to her that despite the failure of her marriage, the failure of her career, despite her hangover and her chronic horniness, she suddenly was feeling rather light and giddy. She couldn't understand it. Was she simply too shallow to suffer indefinitely, or was she too wise to become attached to her suffering, too fiesty to permit it to rule her life? She voted for wise and feisty, and walked on, kicking leaves."

You know what? I remember that this began on April 3rd because it was the day I voted for the first time. My dreams had just been demolished via the U.S. Postal Service, but I had my voting card, damn it. So I figure if I remember that, I'll be okay.

P.S. Am I ending this site? It certainly seemed like it, didn't it? I was almost afraid geocities was going to end it for me. I have taken to writing more for myself, but I need somewhere to put some things, and I could use as many outlets as I can get. Since I know for a fact that people don't read this, I don't see the harm in keeping it going. So April 28th was somewhat of a false alarm. But the big plan was to end it as soon as I moved on. I don't feel like I'm doing that yet. It might happen someday, though, so be ready. I hear Ben Brown is entertaining.