I checked my grad school application for Kent State a couple of minutes ago:
GRADUATE APPLICATION STATUS FOR KENT STATE UNIVERSITY COLLEGE OF EDUCATION, HEALTH, AND HUMAN SERVICES: DECISION MADE
Please contact admissions office for further information.
Sweet mother of all things good and holy, please let this just be a blip in the system. If this is another we're-cutting-budgets-so-instead-of-using-paper-to-mail-a-letter-to-you-or-electricity-to-email-you-we-will-make-you-call-us rejection notice, it's the end of the road as far as grad school is concerned. I can't afford the $150 to take the GRE.
I am literally scared like tomorrow will not exist for me. I mean, this is it - we're over halfway through summer, I still don't have plans for the fall, and I am not the kind of person to fly by the seat of my pants when it comes to something big like this.
When it comes to deciding what I am going to wear on any given day, yes I will dive in head first without any plans, but this is something that requires the analytical, structured, organization-on-crack side of me. I plotted, I planned, and having to wait until tomorrow in order to know any kind of information is making the grilled red skin garlic potatoes that I had for dinner do all kinds of flips and kicks and stuff.
I am really hoping that it is something somewhat simple, even as complicated as "we'll accept you, but all of our courses for the fall term are full so you'll have to wait to take classes until the spring term." I can deal with that. I can make plans with that, take some summer classes, and get caught up to graduate in the spring of 2012 - or not take summer classes and graduate with my sister in December 2012 (aaawwww, how cute!) and find something to do during the spring term while I wait for the 2013-2014 academic year to start.
Side note - holy moley, look at those dates!
I'm really hoping that it's just the fact that classes are closed. I can deal with that. Dealing with another rejection notice and the realization that this is all over, on the other hand, I don't think I could handle. Especially with the possibility of another year stint at Food Service Hell staring me in the face. I need to get out. I need this to happen.
Please? Pretty please?
-AA
Tuesday, July 6, 2010
Thursday, July 1, 2010
Day 313 - "Down That Red Dirt Road"
It seems like I keep having car stories this year.
I was on my way to hell - wait, I mean the job I really don't like and want to quit but I have bills to pay - on Monday morning. As usual, it was 3:45 in the morning, dark, and all I wanted to do was go back to bed. I was about a third of the way to work when it all started.
The biggest cat I have ever seen in my entire life ran out of the ditch and I hit the poor soul with my car.
I don't like hitting animals. There were one or two crazy kids that I went to high school with that took pleasure in hitting animals as soon as they were able to legally climb behind the wheel without an adult. I hope they all end up in prison someday.
Anyway, the cat keeps running into the road and I'm gripping the steering wheel, praying that the cat would come to its senses and stop before what was becoming increasingly inevitable happened.
I tried to stop. It wasn't soon enough.
TH-THUMP! TH-THUMP! TH-THUMP!
I slam on the brakes and hope that, as my car is coming to a stop, I'm not dragging this massive household feline under my car, because I'm already groggy and tired and upset because I am probably going to the evil place for killing someone's beloved pet. After I sat smack in the middle of the road for a minute or two to calm myself down, I start driving off.
That's when I heard it. The sound.
It sounded like part of my car was scraping across the pavement, making an awful dragging sound that made me wonder if my car came out of this just as bad as the cat. I forced my car to limp along until we got to work, the scraping sound haunting me the rest of the way there. Not a good idea to stop and take a look - it was dark outside and, out here in farm country, we don't believe in street lights!
It wasn't until I had gotten off of work that I saw the damage. The thick plastic sheet that hangs back under the bumper had been torn off, and a foot long and three or four inch wide portion of the sheet was hanging at an angle and dangerously close to the ground. I panicked - my car was broken!
I won't lie; my car does have some battle scars. There's a crack in the front bumper from where, while trying to leave my assigned parking lot when I was in college, bumper met road because the grade of the drive wasn't maintained and resulted in the automotive version of biting it hard. There's a slight dent in the roof where the back windshield meets the roof. To be honest, you can't even tell it's there a good 99.9999999 into infinity percent of the time. I have no clue how it got there.
My little Neon and I limped home, still wounded from kitty cat battle and I waited until my dad got home. I was hoping that this was not going to require a trip to the repair shop because, well, it would have to wait until I got paid this coming Monday. Dad tells me to pull my car up, gets a wrench, and tosses me the piece of plastic after a couple of quick turns and a tug.
Then comes the lecture. "You need to learn to take better care of this car. You haven't taken care of it at all," he says in his gruff, I-was-in-the-military-and-yes-I-am-quite-upset-with-you.
Let's recap:
-AA
I was on my way to hell - wait, I mean the job I really don't like and want to quit but I have bills to pay - on Monday morning. As usual, it was 3:45 in the morning, dark, and all I wanted to do was go back to bed. I was about a third of the way to work when it all started.
The biggest cat I have ever seen in my entire life ran out of the ditch and I hit the poor soul with my car.
I don't like hitting animals. There were one or two crazy kids that I went to high school with that took pleasure in hitting animals as soon as they were able to legally climb behind the wheel without an adult. I hope they all end up in prison someday.
Anyway, the cat keeps running into the road and I'm gripping the steering wheel, praying that the cat would come to its senses and stop before what was becoming increasingly inevitable happened.
I tried to stop. It wasn't soon enough.
TH-THUMP! TH-THUMP! TH-THUMP!
I slam on the brakes and hope that, as my car is coming to a stop, I'm not dragging this massive household feline under my car, because I'm already groggy and tired and upset because I am probably going to the evil place for killing someone's beloved pet. After I sat smack in the middle of the road for a minute or two to calm myself down, I start driving off.
That's when I heard it. The sound.
It sounded like part of my car was scraping across the pavement, making an awful dragging sound that made me wonder if my car came out of this just as bad as the cat. I forced my car to limp along until we got to work, the scraping sound haunting me the rest of the way there. Not a good idea to stop and take a look - it was dark outside and, out here in farm country, we don't believe in street lights!
It wasn't until I had gotten off of work that I saw the damage. The thick plastic sheet that hangs back under the bumper had been torn off, and a foot long and three or four inch wide portion of the sheet was hanging at an angle and dangerously close to the ground. I panicked - my car was broken!
I won't lie; my car does have some battle scars. There's a crack in the front bumper from where, while trying to leave my assigned parking lot when I was in college, bumper met road because the grade of the drive wasn't maintained and resulted in the automotive version of biting it hard. There's a slight dent in the roof where the back windshield meets the roof. To be honest, you can't even tell it's there a good 99.9999999 into infinity percent of the time. I have no clue how it got there.
My little Neon and I limped home, still wounded from kitty cat battle and I waited until my dad got home. I was hoping that this was not going to require a trip to the repair shop because, well, it would have to wait until I got paid this coming Monday. Dad tells me to pull my car up, gets a wrench, and tosses me the piece of plastic after a couple of quick turns and a tug.
Then comes the lecture. "You need to learn to take better care of this car. You haven't taken care of it at all," he says in his gruff, I-was-in-the-military-and-yes-I-am-quite-upset-with-you.
Let's recap:
- pulverized plastic - Not my fault. The cat ran under my car of its own free will / predestination.
- road burnt bumper - Not my fault. My school failed to take care of its facilities and not so politely reminded me that it was a risk I took while parking on campus. (??????????)
- lightly riddled roof - Once again, not my fault. Not sure how it got there, but it was another of those "inherit risks of parking on campus."
-AA
Thursday, June 24, 2010
Day 306 - Part 2
Just an update: I found my eyeshadow palette. My little little sister hijacked it and I found it when I knocked a purse off of our purse rack in our room.
Now, the question is, do I approach her directly about it or do I just "miraculously" find it somewhere obvious, like under the bed or in a bathroom drawer? I think we'll just wait it out and see how she reacts. What was she going to do with it, anyway?
-AA
Now, the question is, do I approach her directly about it or do I just "miraculously" find it somewhere obvious, like under the bed or in a bathroom drawer? I think we'll just wait it out and see how she reacts. What was she going to do with it, anyway?
-AA
Day 306 - "So I Put My Hands Up"
I'm just going to set the record straight - I am not, nor will I ever be, a fan of Hannah Montana, Miley Cyrus, or whatever alias she is going by these days.
I am frustrated, though. I've been tearing the house apart looking for something that I know I did not forget at Girls State last week, that has to be within the Anderson household, and will be extremely, extremely difficult to replace if I can't find it. What is missing, you ask?
My eyeshadow palette. But it's not just any eyeshadow palette - it's from Victoria's Secret, and it's special because it's a) part of a set, b) a part of a limited edition set that has been discontinued, c) the perfect colors for me, and d) it's one of the few pieces of nice, quality make up that I actually own. Plus, the case is pretty.
You see, I got this eyeshadow palette as a Christmas present along with the rest of the make up set. I had been enamored with the set since I saw it in Victoria's Secret's Christmas 2009 catalog, and when my mom (aka Santa) picked one up the day after Thanksgiving I was happy. I don't wear cosmetics that often because I usually am too lazy or don't have the time to put the stuff on, so when I get excited about anything girly - whether it's shampoo, bobby pins, or eyeshadow - it's huge. After I opened all of the make up on Christmas morning and oohed and aahed at the pretty colors, I told myself that this was going to be strictly for special occasions. I bought the set its own make up bag and kept it in my room instead of in the bathroom with my sisters' stuff.
Well, I packed that same bag when I was getting ready to leave for Girls State because the program requires dressing up a number of times, and if I were to be the governor's floor mother again or be hob-knobbing with some VIPs in the world of Ohio and national politics, I wanted to look presentable. I used my eyeshadow, I packed it up at the end of the week, and brought it home. Before I left, I even made sure that there was absolutely nothing left in my dorm room.
And now I can't find that eyeshadow to save my life.
Erin and Katie have been sitting around today watching me go crazy trying to find it. "What's the big deal," Erin said at one point. "It's not like you wear make up anyway. Why are you so upset over something you never use?"
Well, here's why:
1. My mother (aka Santa) spent quite a bit of money on it given that it is eyeshadow. Money that could have been spent on something else.
2. I don't own much make up, so when something does go missing, I may not have anything to back it up.
3. Again, it's not available for sale anymore, unless I can find one on eBay, which is a little sketchy sanitation-wise.
4. The principle: it's mine, and I would like it back.
This may be a random post, but I felt like I needed to get this off my chest. I mean, I would like to look nice when I do actually leave the house, and nice make up is expensive. I'm just hoping one of my sisters isn't hiding it for fun - then, there may be some tears.
-AA
I am frustrated, though. I've been tearing the house apart looking for something that I know I did not forget at Girls State last week, that has to be within the Anderson household, and will be extremely, extremely difficult to replace if I can't find it. What is missing, you ask?
My eyeshadow palette. But it's not just any eyeshadow palette - it's from Victoria's Secret, and it's special because it's a) part of a set, b) a part of a limited edition set that has been discontinued, c) the perfect colors for me, and d) it's one of the few pieces of nice, quality make up that I actually own. Plus, the case is pretty.
You see, I got this eyeshadow palette as a Christmas present along with the rest of the make up set. I had been enamored with the set since I saw it in Victoria's Secret's Christmas 2009 catalog, and when my mom (aka Santa) picked one up the day after Thanksgiving I was happy. I don't wear cosmetics that often because I usually am too lazy or don't have the time to put the stuff on, so when I get excited about anything girly - whether it's shampoo, bobby pins, or eyeshadow - it's huge. After I opened all of the make up on Christmas morning and oohed and aahed at the pretty colors, I told myself that this was going to be strictly for special occasions. I bought the set its own make up bag and kept it in my room instead of in the bathroom with my sisters' stuff.
Well, I packed that same bag when I was getting ready to leave for Girls State because the program requires dressing up a number of times, and if I were to be the governor's floor mother again or be hob-knobbing with some VIPs in the world of Ohio and national politics, I wanted to look presentable. I used my eyeshadow, I packed it up at the end of the week, and brought it home. Before I left, I even made sure that there was absolutely nothing left in my dorm room.
And now I can't find that eyeshadow to save my life.
Erin and Katie have been sitting around today watching me go crazy trying to find it. "What's the big deal," Erin said at one point. "It's not like you wear make up anyway. Why are you so upset over something you never use?"
Well, here's why:
1. My mother (aka Santa) spent quite a bit of money on it given that it is eyeshadow. Money that could have been spent on something else.
2. I don't own much make up, so when something does go missing, I may not have anything to back it up.
3. Again, it's not available for sale anymore, unless I can find one on eBay, which is a little sketchy sanitation-wise.
4. The principle: it's mine, and I would like it back.
This may be a random post, but I felt like I needed to get this off my chest. I mean, I would like to look nice when I do actually leave the house, and nice make up is expensive. I'm just hoping one of my sisters isn't hiding it for fun - then, there may be some tears.
-AA
Tuesday, June 1, 2010
Day 283 - "And You're Tryin', But You Can't Hold On Anymore"
Well, I've had eight days to try to move on past the rejection letter. It was a pretty hard gut shot to take, especially since I had been waiting for months for something, whether it was a letter or a smoke signal off in the distance.
As usual, I spent a lot of time last week thinking about what I could have done better. Could I have reread that admissions essay one more time? Could I have highlighted one more bullet point on my resume? Could I, way back during my very first semester of college, taken that American Musical Theater class pass/fail so that my GPA broke the 3.5 mark?
Or, as another wild thought I entertained convinced me, could I have been telling myself that this was the place I needed to be when I really wasn't being true to myself?
I've never been good at handling rejection when it's something that I really want. I am my own worst critic's inspiration, beating myself down for every little thing that goes wrong. It is never anyone else's fault; I'm too independent to admit that it could just be that things were not meant to work out this way and that there is somewhere bigger and better for me. I just have to find it - fast.
So, for now, the plan is to apply to Kent State's higher ed administration program. It's not my dream plan, but the plus side is that I can live at home, which saves me money, and I know people already in the program. My sister will also be at Kent, so I know I won't be completely alone.
I guess that this rejection notice is some sort of life lesson. When I was applying to colleges during my senior year of high school, I didn't get into my first choice. As a matter of fact, the school that is now my college alma mater was my fourth choice school - out of the four schools I applied to. But you know what? Looking back, I don't think I would have been as happy at any of the other schools as I was at my alma mater. Maybe there's a lesson to be learned from this, something that I'm too young and inexperienced to see at this point in my life.
-AA
As usual, I spent a lot of time last week thinking about what I could have done better. Could I have reread that admissions essay one more time? Could I have highlighted one more bullet point on my resume? Could I, way back during my very first semester of college, taken that American Musical Theater class pass/fail so that my GPA broke the 3.5 mark?
Or, as another wild thought I entertained convinced me, could I have been telling myself that this was the place I needed to be when I really wasn't being true to myself?
I've never been good at handling rejection when it's something that I really want. I am my own worst critic's inspiration, beating myself down for every little thing that goes wrong. It is never anyone else's fault; I'm too independent to admit that it could just be that things were not meant to work out this way and that there is somewhere bigger and better for me. I just have to find it - fast.
So, for now, the plan is to apply to Kent State's higher ed administration program. It's not my dream plan, but the plus side is that I can live at home, which saves me money, and I know people already in the program. My sister will also be at Kent, so I know I won't be completely alone.
I guess that this rejection notice is some sort of life lesson. When I was applying to colleges during my senior year of high school, I didn't get into my first choice. As a matter of fact, the school that is now my college alma mater was my fourth choice school - out of the four schools I applied to. But you know what? Looking back, I don't think I would have been as happy at any of the other schools as I was at my alma mater. Maybe there's a lesson to be learned from this, something that I'm too young and inexperienced to see at this point in my life.
-AA
Monday, May 24, 2010
Day 275 - "When You're Broken, In A Million Little Pieces"
Application status for Baldwin-Wallace College's leadership in higher education program:
REJECTED.
-AA
REJECTED.
-AA
Thursday, May 13, 2010
Day 264 - "A Little Bit of This and A Little Bit of That"
I've got some major updates to talk about. And I have been a little bit of a slacker, but sometimes I get so caught up in life and everything that I need/have/want to do that I kind of forget to write it down. That's supposed to be good, right?
Anyways, I got my first reprint request on one of my articles! Marist College, which is in New York state, emailed me asking to reprint one of my articles in a newsletter from their academic advising office. Unfortunately, I don't have rights to allow electronic reprints on that article yet because it's less than a year old, but I offered to either write them a new article or for them to link to it...and they never got back to me. sigh
Then, over this past weekend, my sorority little sister graduated from college. It was strange, sitting during a shortened ceremony because it was freezing cold and raining (surprise!) and knowing that a year ago this past weekend I became a college graduate. It still really hasn't hit me yet that my degree is officially one year old as of May 9. I think as the rest of this month goes by and I (hopefully) hear something about graduate school that it will really hit me.
In other, other news, still nothing from graduate school. They also had graduation and finals this past week and weekend, so I figure that all of the administrators were tied up in preparing for the end of the year and the beginning of the summer term. If I don't hear anything by the end of next week, it's time to write another follow-up email, I guess. Is there such a thing as being too diligent with following up after interviews?
Currently, the house is a-tizzy over Erin's car. I got a call from her just as I was leaving work today saying that her brakes on her car went out, and that the only way to get her car to stop was to punch the brake pedal all the way to the floor. Turns out she lost all of her brake fluid while she was on campus sometime today, either because she has a hole in her brake lines or someone cut them. Let's hope it's just a hole - I don't know what to think if someone has it out for Erin, of all people!
-AA
Anyways, I got my first reprint request on one of my articles! Marist College, which is in New York state, emailed me asking to reprint one of my articles in a newsletter from their academic advising office. Unfortunately, I don't have rights to allow electronic reprints on that article yet because it's less than a year old, but I offered to either write them a new article or for them to link to it...and they never got back to me. sigh
Then, over this past weekend, my sorority little sister graduated from college. It was strange, sitting during a shortened ceremony because it was freezing cold and raining (surprise!) and knowing that a year ago this past weekend I became a college graduate. It still really hasn't hit me yet that my degree is officially one year old as of May 9. I think as the rest of this month goes by and I (hopefully) hear something about graduate school that it will really hit me.
In other, other news, still nothing from graduate school. They also had graduation and finals this past week and weekend, so I figure that all of the administrators were tied up in preparing for the end of the year and the beginning of the summer term. If I don't hear anything by the end of next week, it's time to write another follow-up email, I guess. Is there such a thing as being too diligent with following up after interviews?
Currently, the house is a-tizzy over Erin's car. I got a call from her just as I was leaving work today saying that her brakes on her car went out, and that the only way to get her car to stop was to punch the brake pedal all the way to the floor. Turns out she lost all of her brake fluid while she was on campus sometime today, either because she has a hole in her brake lines or someone cut them. Let's hope it's just a hole - I don't know what to think if someone has it out for Erin, of all people!
-AA
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