Nutshell: 30 seconds, go. I was accepted to B.Y.U. Provo after only applying to BYU Provo and BYUI. Naturally I chose the less frozen of the two, and so here I am in Provo, UT. I attended orientation both yesterday and today, enrolled in the honors program and signed up to take many classes. The hunt for a college is over, and so now the predator becomes the prey. The next two years of my life will be spent evading romance and relationships in any form and studying my butt off in the secret hiding places of campus.
Stop.
Big items coming up: AP scores. Can we say major potential sobfest? I think the worst feeling ever is that building anticipation as one slowly opens the envelope and pulls out the scores... We shall see about the actual success as it gets closer.
First day of church: Tomorrow, should be interesting. This is the epitome of the water hole, animal style. It is here that the lions will check out the wildebeests and prey on the insecure and lonely ones. Good thing I am not insecure and know how to shut down unwanted suitors. ;)
First day of class: Monday, spanish and pearl of great price. It is here that I will discover exactly how lenient my teachers will be..
First day of work: Monday at before the sun wakes up A.M. Not looking forward to waking up so soon after midnight, but at least the job is menial, which should allow the other parts of my brain to work out complicated problems. It pays well.
College seems like a lot of firsts... first roommates, first time on my own, first time in a completely different school and state. First time with a real job. I only regret that I have no personal savings to fall back on.
Saturday, June 19, 2010
Tuesday, October 20, 2009
The Battle of the Cards
As the hunt for a college continues...
I must say, having my mother desperately try to give me connections is a new experience. Apparently she now questions my friendmaking skills as well as the quality of my future friends. This morning, as I desperately attempted to write an essay whilst barreling down the road at half the speed of light (I was not driving), my concentration was broken by a certain driver who shall remain relatively anonymous. This 'driver' (and I use the term loosely), attempted to indoctrinate me into her way of thought. While I appreciate her attempt to cover my bases for me, I had to question the extension of the thought. It seemed to be as a lightning strike that creates a forest fire. Her thought was the strike, the aftermath and potential results of this 'strike' were the spreading forest fire, a fire that I imagine would revive Smokey the Bear due to its catostrophicosity*. This fire is the destruction of my youth and my dreams. Her idea was this: Let us send out cards to reputable relatives, whom I know and trust, and allow them to distribute said cards to all of my cousins and distant relatives that I have never met, who may or may not be attending BYU. These cards would contain my name, my phone number, and a picture among other things. While she saw only a "great opportunity" for me to meet the long lost Utahnian cousins, I saw an opportunity for many a creeper to have vital information as well as my picture. You can imagine my discomfort with this idea. The driver was not to be so readily dissuaded.
She attempted to blindly force her ideology upon me, hoping that I, like a good kindergartener, would just take her word that this was a good idea, just like 2+2 allegedly equals 4. I would not cooperate with this scheme. I proposed a litany of potential outcomes of this one decision, something that she had not thought of, evidenced by her sudden silences followed by an outburst that lacked logos completely. In a completely transparent bid, and what seemed like a desperate attempt to get me on the bandwagon, she brought up the possibility of these fabled cousins having handsome, dashing roomates that could see these cards and possibly ask me on dates. I proceeded to remind her that a) we do not know these roommates at all, and that they might also be creepers, possibly more so than the invisible cousins and that b) I am not going to college for dates as other plastics have done. Rather my college experience is to gain a greater education, therefore potential dates from potential creepers are not a winning strategy to convince me to give out my information.
I enjoyed a few minutes of silence before the barrage began again.
While I believe that the flag of victory is carried upon my shoulders today, I fear that while the battle is won, the war is far from over, a war that spans a generation: The War of The Collegial Applicant.
*I made this word up. It is not real. But feel free to use it.
I must say, having my mother desperately try to give me connections is a new experience. Apparently she now questions my friendmaking skills as well as the quality of my future friends. This morning, as I desperately attempted to write an essay whilst barreling down the road at half the speed of light (I was not driving), my concentration was broken by a certain driver who shall remain relatively anonymous. This 'driver' (and I use the term loosely), attempted to indoctrinate me into her way of thought. While I appreciate her attempt to cover my bases for me, I had to question the extension of the thought. It seemed to be as a lightning strike that creates a forest fire. Her thought was the strike, the aftermath and potential results of this 'strike' were the spreading forest fire, a fire that I imagine would revive Smokey the Bear due to its catostrophicosity*. This fire is the destruction of my youth and my dreams. Her idea was this: Let us send out cards to reputable relatives, whom I know and trust, and allow them to distribute said cards to all of my cousins and distant relatives that I have never met, who may or may not be attending BYU. These cards would contain my name, my phone number, and a picture among other things. While she saw only a "great opportunity" for me to meet the long lost Utahnian cousins, I saw an opportunity for many a creeper to have vital information as well as my picture. You can imagine my discomfort with this idea. The driver was not to be so readily dissuaded.
She attempted to blindly force her ideology upon me, hoping that I, like a good kindergartener, would just take her word that this was a good idea, just like 2+2 allegedly equals 4. I would not cooperate with this scheme. I proposed a litany of potential outcomes of this one decision, something that she had not thought of, evidenced by her sudden silences followed by an outburst that lacked logos completely. In a completely transparent bid, and what seemed like a desperate attempt to get me on the bandwagon, she brought up the possibility of these fabled cousins having handsome, dashing roomates that could see these cards and possibly ask me on dates. I proceeded to remind her that a) we do not know these roommates at all, and that they might also be creepers, possibly more so than the invisible cousins and that b) I am not going to college for dates as other plastics have done. Rather my college experience is to gain a greater education, therefore potential dates from potential creepers are not a winning strategy to convince me to give out my information.
I enjoyed a few minutes of silence before the barrage began again.
While I believe that the flag of victory is carried upon my shoulders today, I fear that while the battle is won, the war is far from over, a war that spans a generation: The War of The Collegial Applicant.
*I made this word up. It is not real. But feel free to use it.
Monday, October 19, 2009
The Hunt Is Afoot
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I, Alexis Cooper, have created a blog to document the journey down the Congo that I am about to undertake. Understandably, it is not the hot thing that intimidates me, but rather the actual journey, which I face with trepidation and an air of grandiloquence. But mostly anticipation. Because, honestly, this whole High School thing needs be terminated. I am ready to move on with my life, but the Government disagrees. Which is not surprising at all. But I digress. Feel free to check this regularly for my opinionated insights into the collegial system. I feel I need an avenue in which to express myself. Blogging must be healthier than staring into the abyss.... But I have no time to contemplate life any longer.
The hunt is afoot.
The hunt is afoot.
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