DONE

DONE

DONE
DONE
DONE

Almost. I still have to send in my application fees.
But seriously, all those essays.

I am pumped. To be done. Even if it means I still have a paper and a lab to write. Even if it means I need three artworks by Tuesday.

WHOOOO.

I can finally start talking about the application process in the past tense. Things I'll need to include in reflections: finding colleges that match, standardized tests (& the student search service), writing essays, formatting, the common application, the waiting period (including how to destress and such), recommendations, supplements ... that's all I can think of for now.

I think I will celebrate by watching a movie and reentering my life. And being productive and actually starting my painting.

Oh, yes. It's New Year's Eve! A momentary reflection of the past year--passable, even pleasant. Memorable incidents:
Chicago
US History
Testing testing testing
Italy!
New York!
Anytown!
52 people at the first Environmental Club meeting of the year
40 people at the first Spectrum meeting
Homecoming Queen!
Relations with other people (a mixed bit of nice and confusing)

Things I look forward to doing in 2009:
Caring for my health! (exercising and bothering to pack healthy lunches)
SEEING AMMI AHHHHHHH
Doing the things I regretted not doing this year
Getting into college, gahgahgalg;lagjald
Graduation
Summer! Summer! Summer! Job!
Goodbyes
COLLEEEGGGGGEEEEE


I apologize for all the caps. They are kind of unexcusable in normal circumstances, but I am feeling like the vanilla ice cream on a root beer float.

a morning winter walk and a finished art supplement(!).

At least I think I'm finished. I may do a painting or two in the next few days, and if I like one of them enough I'll add it to my collection.

Since I'm no award-winning artist or anything, my artistic endeavors are more a haphazard collection of photography, traditional art, and the designs I've done for my extracurriculars. My art supplies consist of a cheap point-and-shoot camera, lots of acrylics and colored pencils, and sharpies.

That is, my CD portfolio will be divided in those categories.
I haven't posted any art yet, so here's a selection of each of them:

Photography:

<----The background image, and these:





Traditional art:







Designs:






____________________________

I took a rather soothing walk today. I nearly froze off my face taking pictures and listening to the new albums I acquired over the weekend.

I think I will take a walk without my portable audio player sometime soon. I spent half a summer without one and found myself noticing the subtle nuances of my neighborhood much more. Something in the air was crisper. The sky was bluer. It's strange how much one discovers by simply paying attention.










______________________

Andrew and I got into a debate (as always) over the usefulness of the religious studies major (which I am considering). My main motive for possibly pursuing the major is this: to gain a deeper understanding of different peoples through the societal regulators of religion, economic conditions, and historical norms, each of which are not necessarily independent from the others.

Religion, although declining in its influence in certain circles, remains a chief aspect of many cultures. Through analyzing them, I would realize a perspective of their respective cultures unattainable through sociology or psychology.

Although some parts of old religious texts may seem dogmatic, I find the ideas that they present utterly fascinating, especially in their explanations on how the universe was created (a personal question of mine that will never be answered but always pursued). I believe it is possible to find some commonality in all religions and perhaps use this knowledge to unite diverse peoples.

Furthermore, it is possible that I will pursue religious studies in an interdisciplinary major more suitable to my goals, such as a History/Economics/Religious Studies fusion of awesomeness.




Hm. The one thing I dislike about being awake after 10:30 is my constant late-night hunger I refuse to nourish.

A slow withdrawal from an unrequited love.

The first two days of re-entering the application process were glazed with the lingering self-doubt and disappointment of my December 15th verdict. Anything I wrote was contrived, unoriginal, and ... bleh. It was frustrating.

I finished my Stanford application at 1 AM yesterday and watched Pan's Labyrinth until 4 AM. I woke up and decided to make a few loaves of challah.

I made lazanki for lunch as the loaves rose, did some therapeutic dough-braiding, and did a little more research on how to paint with oils and acrylics. I read 66 pages of Brave New World and sketched the lamp next to me with charcoal and pastels.

I downloaded Man on Wire. Before I went to bed, I wrote an opening to an essay.

Yesterday was brilliant. The one paragraph I wrote has inspired a complete rewrite of my Stanford essays, which I never would have forgiven myself for submitting. I think I'll revamp my main Common app essay. I also made some more challah today. I feel both sorry and happy for my future roommate. I don't know how baking and cooking are so linked with a certain level of happiness for me. I'm thinking about bagels or baguettes next.

I'm letting myself fall in love with my second choice schools. I want to experience that relief and excitement of getting into college. But there's no rush. All the things in the world are nice.

a fantastic day and some thoughts on physics

I find it highly amusing that my first attempt at music composition sounds like a cross between Explosions in the Sky and Stars. I really like it, though. I have the intro and the beginning of a verse done thus far. We'll see how it turns out.

After having studied for a day and a half, I went into my calculus final this morning and there is a chance that I may have gotten an A on it. Which means I have scraped through the first semester of Calculus BC, my first semester with any AP classes ever, with an A.

UMYESYOUHEARDCORRECTLY.

If only I could say the same for Physics. The grading in that class is pretty shot. Half of our class is struggling and the other half is excelling, and it's supposed to be graded on a curve. I'm actually in the middle, which means my grade is in the most jeopardy (oh gosh, this is starting to sound like the effects of recession on socioeconomic class).

The class curriculum is fairly disorganized. At the beginning of the year, he gave us a syllabus with a list of the labs we were going to do, and so far we've been jumping around from one to the other in no particular order. Our weekly web assignments come from the textbook, we practice on questions he's saved on his computer, and we are mostly graded on pop AP question quizzes.

My hypothesis was that I was simply unable to adapt to the purposeful unpredictability of the class, but it seems as though there is no clear purpose behind that at all.

At the start of the semester, he admitted that it was more up to us to study the material. However, since we students are doing more or less independent study, we have no way to assess if our understanding of the material is adequate until we are tested.

I took the initiative to buy a Barron's AP Physics C guide over the summer, but I still feel as though this testing practice disadvantages my other peers who may not know to or are not able to afford twenty dollar testing monstrosities.

Perhaps I will try and address the issue with my teacher soon.

One part inspirational speech and one part music video. The second video blog I made for friends (and me) stressing over college admissions. Surprisingly took me less than two hours to shoot the video and edit the audio and clips. Playing the lovely song "El Reloj" by Jóvenes y Sexys during the first part.

But seriously, to all of you who aren't feeling the love from your first choice or any other college, don't doubt yourself too quickly. You'll end up happy no matter what.

today is the day,

And I have no school.
What a wonderful time for cold weather to set in.

My plans include baking bread. It relieves much tension.
An update will probably come later.

Whatever happens, happens. I stopped being in control on November 1.

//update
Deferred. One in every two people was deferred.

Ahwell. Onto other apps, and I think I'll send in some artwork after all.

Fridays

I am excessively thankful for Fridays. So much that sometimes my thankfulness for Friday spills over into Saturday, and overflows my thankfulness for Saturday, which somewhat lessens the harshness of my Sundays.

The weekend is a wonderful time.

These past two weeks have been somewhat stressful, albeit manageable. Papers and projects--two magic words that share a first letter with "pain." Last weekend was a whirlwind of violin followed immediately by a test-filled week.

And now, my life is almost silent.

I am having a great time with this arrangement. It's like a painting with pitches and beats for brushes and colors.

We're anticipating an ice storm for next week, which is finals. I don't have to attend most of them, but I might take Calculus and Physics and the other two from which I'm not exempt.

I have a list of thoughts to put into writing soon. Not college essays, for once! Just things I'd like to discuss.

Monday evening is when I find out.
I'm not really thinking about it now.

Perhaps the nervousness comes five minutes before?
Right now it doesn't seem to matter that much.

In the face of a silent weekend, what else could I want?

I am poetic

I feel everything.
But it's not supposed to be everything all at once.

Even writing does not help.


I am taking another SAT Physics Subject test tomorrow.
I am practicing for a concert, playing a fundraising concert.
I'm ready.

The weekend will be over.
I will have other things to think about.

I haven't exactly thought about myself.
I didn't realize how sad I was until today.
It's okay to be sad. It seems to go this way for everyone.

Is it really December?
What did I do in 2008?

A lot of things that matter.
But not the one that matters most.

I'm going to write a message.
I'm going to write a song.
Not at the same time.

I'm going to go to college.
I'm going to draw myself in the big picture.

pre-admissions decision get-together support group thingy.

I am excited for December 15. Why? Because I am going to have an amazing time with my friends in the hours from 2-4PM central time.

The plan?
We are writing rejection letters to each other. Everyone will get a piece of paper to put their name on, and everyone else will write notes to them saying what they would say if they were there when the person gets the admissions decision.

The letters are then sealed, labeled, and ready for the day. Oh gosh.

Maybe we'll do it before December 15, because decisions apparently mail before then.

I thought of this because it was too necessary. I don't have a dog. I don't have parents who will be home. I have siblings, but they don't get it.

And then I thought of other people who would be the same boat. And shit. It's a life-changing decision, no matter how thin you slice it (I usually think of the slice as Swiss cheese, actually).

I began my UChicago essays last night. I have half of one written and another one brainstormed out. They're fun, but it's not the same type of passion I had for my First Choice essays. Ahwell.

I dislike complaining, but I'm doing an awful lot of it since I've gotten back from break. I wish I had better things to say. I wish I had better things to think.

I am going to ban "no time" from my phrasebook of life.

I am going to work out between study sessions of homework.
I am going to write in my blog, write poetry, write words without feeling guilty.
I am going to get six fucking hours of sleep no matter how the cookie crumbles,
no matter where the cookie crumbles.
I am going to watch the intriguing Italian film I am 90% on the way of acquiring.
I am going to read the news, damn it.
I am going to get my fucking driving license!

why

I just wrote one of the most sincere letters of my life. It was superficially a why letter, a little bit of a lust letter, but mostly a love letter.

I am starting to ask my teachers for recommendations again. I started compiling an email for them and ended up spending half an hour learning about the University of Chicago. It's a great school. It has most of what I'm looking for. It's missing some things that I could remedy. I can see myself there, at least content, probably happy.

And so in the midst of that delight I wondered, "Would I choose this over the First Choice?"
My best friend would be less than an hour away from me, finally. I already have good friends at the school, and I would be near people who I've made close connections with in these past few years. It has the Core. It has majors like "Big Problems" and "Human Rights." And to be disillusioning, the First Choice has its own share of real issues.

Without a shadow of a doubt, I thought, "No."

There is something about the people at the First Choice that is different, refreshing, and nonnegotiable. I want sketchy. I want things that are not a-okay all the time. Because I want to know the world, and the First Choice is the only place I can see myself knowing it fully.

The regrets I have would be minimal.

In other news, I have to start my Calculus homework.

things to let go, things to now know

I crossed three colleges off my to-apply list just now.

I almost feel like someone going through a midlife crisis. I've had this years for ages now, so what prompted me to alter it now?

I've been really contemplating what schools are right for me, not my parents' egos or mine.
Even though it didn't feel like that at the time I put them down, I realize now that it was. Prestige.
I got infected, and I'm a little ashamed, but hey, at least now I can say I'm human.

Admittance and rejection. I am trying to imagine the latter more often, just to be mentally prepared (so if it's an admittance instead I will simply explode), but that doesn't stop the occasional admittance daydream to creep into my skull. Alas.

I had an argument with my mother last night. For the third time since I've asked her specifically not to, she told yet another person what my First Choice is.

And it's not the shame of rejection. It's because it's personal to me, and no one else's business, especially not something for the "Compare Our Children" game Asian parents play. I don't want something so important to be reduced to a name like that, and the fact that she couldn't respect my wishes on that count was kind of upsetting.

I cry over everything now. I'm pretty sure if I saw roadkill I would burst into tears like I used to in elementary school (and only the elementary school part is exaggerating). It's not as though I'm having a nervous breakdown or anything. In fact, I'm no longer self-conscious about it. For seniors, it seems to be as fashionable as bug-eyed glasses. And like bug-eyed glasses, I hope it becomes less common by the end of semester.

So, the bright side. I am rereading Extremely Loud and Incredibly Close by Jonathan Safran Foer, which I read more than a year ago before adding it to my favorite books list.

I don't like it as much, which is disappointing, but not the end of the world. Some of the lines still ring with me, but not the same novelty as before. I'm marking the best of them with a light blue Prismacolour pencil. When I get to it, I'll buy and reread Everything Is Illuminated as well. And all the other books on my favorites list.

It's getting easier to tell how much I've changed on an intellectual level in the past six months alone. I reread the Handmaid's Tale for AP English and had an entirely new perspective on it because of Anytown and learning more about sexism. The presidential election got me more into politics (though I'd hardly call myself a junkie). I read commentaries without being entirely persuaded and watch reports without entirely believing.

And the things that once held immense sentimental value to me are less so epic, so to speak, because I have experienced even more profound messages in the past few months.

If my viewpoints were marble, I'd be sculpting them.

twenty days.

So, I vowed never to talk about college admissions again on my poetry blog (unless it was rather significant), and thus the need had to met somehow.

I started a general college process blog with this same name a while ago, but I eventually forgot to update it and veered away from school topics.
________________

I had my interview on Sunday in an empty Starbucks. I thought I was going to be late, but thankfully everyone on the highway speeds relative to the suggested limit. Oh Mapquest. The delight in proving you wrong.

The interview itself? We neglected to buy drinks and I wasn't able to articulate myself as well as I'd have liked, mais c'est la vie. I enjoyed the entire ordeal, especially finally getting the release of talking about the First Choice openly. More enthusiastic than I've been in a while.

It was the usual questions, but we discussed a variety of things. He gave me more insight on the community there and his own experiences, and I got a majority of my questions answered. The minority that couldn't be answered including how the scene is today and "alllohhmyygosshwillIgetin!" He mentioned Kirkegaard, who is definitely on my philosophy to-read list. Unfortunately, The Community Manifesto and Nicomachean Ethics have been gathering dust since I've started school. I'll have to put the Bible in between the two to keep it in chronological order.

I think the only embarrassing moment was when I discovered I had forgotten the plot to Everything Is Illuminated. If I recall correctly, most of the novel deals with plot sandwiched between Foer's philosophy and humor. At least that's the only reason I truly loved the novel.

My interviewer seemed to be an overall nice, intelligent, and laid back. I kind of wish we had gotten drinks, though. The poor man had a cough.
_____________________

Anyway, I've been bracing myself for First Choice rejection. It's the only way I can stop thinking about the decision I will see in twenty days. What are my options if I don't get in? A lot. I will definitely apply to UChicago, UIUC, Columbia, and One That Must Not Be Named. Harvard is really at the bottom of the list and probably will be stricken. MIT is a possibility, but it's not a perfect fit for me and I know it.

Ahh, the First Choice fits. It just fits.
I wrote a rather lengthy blog post on why a while ago, so I won't repeat myself any more.
_____________________

It's almost Thanksgiving, and I'm particularly thankful with how unintrusive my parents have been in the past few months of my life. I don't think I would have been able to get anything done if they had transformed into the nagging, hyperinsecure perfectionist hawks that I know some parents become.

These next six days will be a major balancing act of work and play. My whiteboard is filled with things to do and my schedule is filled with people whom I adore. Excellent.

My French teacher mentioned that that state of your living space is a reflection of the state of your life. I think I read a similar article about that sometime in the past, right before I read a piece on why disorganization encourages higher cognitive skills. I suppose the two ideas can go hand in hand--an intelligent person with an extraordinary amount of work to do will not be spending time on the "small things," and will probably have the mental capacity to remember generally where wanted items are.

This is why it drives me crazy when my mother cleans my room randomly, even though it's such a pleasant gesture. She's obsessed with order and frequently comments on my whirlwind of a room (composed of only three things: books, papers, and clothes), so when it comes time for me to do something I can't find what I need. Ah, irony.