Thoughts On Perspective

Earlier this week I took my third midterm exam for my physics class, and was extremely disappointed to discover that I received a raw score of 80%.

Now, before you say 'but that's a good score!' just hear me out. 80% may not actually be that bad, but I haven't seen a score that low in a very long time. I expected better of myself. I had spent long hours studying the material, and I felt I was finally getting the hang of it, but that score made me feel like all that work was for nothing. Factor in that this is one of the three classes that will determine whether I get accepted to my major, and it seemed like the end of the world. I was legitimately freaking out.

Two days later, however, I received an email from my professor to the class, in which he said that the class average was 54%. Suddenly my 80% looked a lot better. I hadn't just survived the test--I had destroyed it. Realizing that the curve required to put the class average in the correct range will have me sitting pretty, I let out an obligatory shout of joy and bought myself a soda.

*calculator drop*

So why am I telling this story? It's not to brag. I hate bragging, and that's why college applications were so difficult. It's because my opinion of my score changed when I was able to see a broader context. From just my own score, it seemed I had not done well at all, but with improved perspective I saw that it was actually something worth celebrating.

I think that oftentimes our perspective clouds our judgment in much the same way. We may think we see the whole room, but we're actually looking through a keyhole. Sometimes we don't even realize that the door is unlocked. So even though it's been said many times, I think it bears repeating that we need to see the big picture, because it's something we humans habitually struggle with.

So how do you develop perspective? The short answer is I don't know, because with my limited life experience I'm not in any position to sprinkle you with sage wisdom. I can, however, tell you what works for me, and you may do with it what you wish.

First, identify the worst-case scenario. Assuming everything goes wrong, what will happen? What will the lasting consequences be? This is a great way to weed out the problems that don't matter in the long run. If it won't do any permanent damage, it's probably not worth the energy to worry about.

Second, think of actions you can take to deal with the issue. Is there something you can do to avoid the worst-case scenario? If not, what options do you have for coping with it? Again, if it turns out to be something you have zero control over, it's not worth worrying about.

Third, try to see from another point of view. By no means am I saying you have to adopt someone else's perspective (unless you like it better), but simply to try to understand.  Seeing multiple sides of an issue can help you make better judgments and leads to a lot less conflict.

Lastly, be sure to try both zooming in and zooming out. Sometimes with all the emphasis on the big picture, we lose the benefits of looking closer. Many issues that may at first seem unsurmountable can be broken into smaller pieces, some of which can usually be solved.

At the end of the day, we're all still seeing through keyholes, and we spend our whole lives trying to widen them. Sometimes it isn't easy, but I hope that we can all come to appreciate that a little perspective goes a long way. Perhaps it's a twist of fate that this is my first post since the U.S. Presidential election, but I'll leave that for you to consider.

Hic Manebimus Optime!

Turning Leaves

Two months in, college isn't any easier than it was when I started. I mean, I expected as much, but some part of me was hopeful that it'd get better. Unfortunately, as the seasons change, my homework load doesn't.

Before I get going, I'd like to point out that the BYU Grounds Crew has somehow managed to keep the grass green long after the trees have given up. Seriously, it's November--no grass has a right to look this good this late in the year. I have no idea how they do it. Grounds Crew definitely has some magic powers they aren't telling us about.

Now, as for everything else, as I watched the leaves turning vibrant hues and dropping to the ground, I realized that I had actually let myself go, too. I was losing sleep, pulling successive post-midnight days in a row, practicing poor study habits and all but abandoning my standards of room cleanliness. I was irritable, exhausted and far from happy. I even had that maybe I should quit college moment. Through self-neglect, I had turned into a mess, and I saw that my current pattern wasn't sustainable. I needed to fix it, and quickly, before I threw myself into a self-imposed ruin.

So I made yesterday a sort of swift-kick-in-the-butt day, in an effort to put myself back on track. I cracked down on homework, went grocery shopping, cleaned my room and got to bed while the clock still said "PM" for the first time in a week. I even got started on NaNoWriMo (for those who are interested, I'm not going for 50,000 words because I know it won't happen. I'm just trying to see how far I can get.) Then I got up on time this morning, gave myself a good breakfast, made my bed and got a proper start to the day. I even chose to wear laced shoes instead of slip-ons, because in accordance with the bed-making philosophy, the act of tying my shoes actually made me feel more accomplished and capable. With that, I'm happy to report drastic improvement over the last twenty-four hours! I'm feeling happier, more rejuvenated and more in control. Ain't self-regulation awesome?

My thought for the day, then, is that it's never too late to start over. Sure, I completely lapsed on all of the good habits I was trying to build, but I put myself back on the path I wanted to be on, and you can too. Sometimes turning over a new leaf means raking up the old ones and throwing them into the fire, but sometimes you just have to pick back up a leaf you've dropped. Whatever the case, let your colors burn as brightly as the autumn trees--you'll thank yourself for it.

Hic Manebimus Optime!

Midterms and Maruchan

Midterms. College students everywhere tremble at the very mention of the word. And they're upon us. Mine have been spaced so that the first set bled into the second, granting approximately zero relief in between. I've already endured the first test out of round two, and I have two more this week (one of them is dance; remember how hard I tried to avoid that class? I'm wishing I'd tried harder.) and calculus next week. At first I thought the concept of having three midterms per class seemed cruel and unusual...and I still do. I realized, however, that the second set takes the place of the first term final in high school, and that made more sense. I understand it, but I don't have to like it.

Thus, life has become an arduous cycle of intensive studying, hasty meals, sleep deprivation, piles of homework and a looming sense of fear and dread. In addition, I also have cleaning checks tonight, which would be a breeze if I had roommates that helped keep the place clean. (Not that I don't like them, it's just that their standards of cleanliness are very different from mine.) That said, it's going to be another long night.

Somewhere in all the chaos, I haven't been grocery shopping, Which means I've fallen back on a time-tested college survival favorite, the universal sign that a wayward student has run out of food and/or money. I'll give you a hint: it's six for a dollar at the store, it cooks in three minutes and it tastes like sodium and sadness. Parsimony, thy name is Ramen.

Fortunately, the emptiness is only in my cupboards and not my bank account, so I should be back to having the best meals in the dorm soon enough. I happen to have found a whole slew of seasonal dessert recipes that I'm just dying to try, assuming midterms don't kill me off first.

So how does one persist when the situation seems so dire? The most common college answer would probably be caffeine, but I have none in my possession. Instead, I've found a few other coping mechanisms, which I think you might be interested in.

• Music: never underestimate the power of a good pump-up song. Even a sad or depressing song can act as a cathartic emotional channel, allowing you to get back up and keep going.
• Food: exercise extreme caution, because it's easy to get carried away. That said, there is no better pep talk than that of a Reese's peanut butter cup.
• Short breaks: never study for five hours straight. Trust me, I've done it enough times to know it's a bad plan. Take ten minutes every hour or so to breathe, get a drink or anything else you may need.
• Writing: writing allows you to express emotion and reduce stress. This could be in a journal, on a personal project, or even on a blog. Why do you think I'm typing right now?
• Sleep: your bed is your best friend. Protect your sleep hours as much as possible, even if that means only doing the assignments that are due at midnight tonight. You'll be happier and more productive in the morning.
• Embracing the Pain: I have no idea what sort of switch got flipped in my brain for me to enjoy the novelty of utter misery, but for some reason I can randomly put a goofy grin on my face and become a homework juggernaut. I can't maintain it very long though, and I don't think anyone can, so save it for when you need it the most.

There you have it, my official Toolbox For When Life Stinks. There are other methods that I haven't discussed, and I encourage you to search for them if these don't work out for you. Meanwhile, in the face of the midterms knocking on my door, I've found a Latin phrase that differs from my customary farewell, but I find it all too fitting. See you on the other side.

Nos Morituri te Salutamus!

Sticky Note Chaos

You may remember me mentioning in an earlier post that I wanted to dedicate an entry to the messages other apartments have spelled out of post-it notes in their windows. This is that post. Prepare yourself.

You may have seen this one before; I used it as a sneak peek earlier. It was the first, and it remains one of my favorites. After this had been up for a few days, they changed it to "Still hungry :(" and a girls' apartment in the building across the lawn replied with "No you're not," followed by "Come say hi." Sadly I didn't get pictures of all of them, so use your imagination.

This is the only one not spelled with sticky notes, but I felt it had merit. There used to be an additional sign that said "Come Date Me!" with a phone number, but by the time I came back for a picture it had been taken down. Too bad.

Remember the first picture? That one's in building 25, which faces building 26. Building 25 is a boys' building, 26 is girls. One day someone in 26 put up the word "Beans" and nothing else. Our dear friends in 25 #3204 (The 'please send food' people) replied with "Beans?" and another apartment in 26 also put up "Beans." Before long, no fewer than six apartments had the word "Beans" with either a period, question mark or exclamation mark, and everyone was confused. Finally the fourth floor of 25 put a lid on it with this:

After that, the windows were silent for a few days, until game day. For every football game, at least five apartments put up something along the lines of "Go cougs" or "Beat [insert opponent here]." Here's a sample.

Somewhere along the line our friends at 25 #3204 must've gotten some food, because they then tried to unload some excess peaches. The two responses from building 26 were nothing short of perfect.

Then there's 25 #4102. Poor 4102. All they want is some company, but it never seems to work out. One day I looked up and saw this (and the response) and couldn't help but laugh.

4102 has also tried "Somebody love me," "NCMO Tryouts" and "We <3 Girls" (sorry to say I don't have pictures of those). On the other side of the building, one apartment tried a different approach, which I think has been more successful.

4102 changed their approach, probably trying to be a little less creepy.

And this was the counter-offer from the first floor. Ah, capitalism.

So now you're up to speed on the window conversations. I hope you find them as entertaining as I do, and if I can gather enough to do another installment in the future, I will. In the meantime, I have some sticky notes to put up.

Hic Manebimus Optime!

Rainy Day

It's been raining virtually nonstop for the last two days, which can do interesting things to one's mood. Between the cold temperatures, limited outdoor options and complete disappearance of the sun, I haven't been motivated to do much. This is a problem, since I have midterms coming up this week and need to study, but cannot find the drive to do it. Thus, I resolved to make today a good rainy day, to get myself into a more productive mood.

First off, I decided to make cookies, because nothing improves your mood on a cold, dreary day quite like warm, succulent disks of chocolate chip deliciousness. Plus, having cookies allows me to set up a  Pavlovian self-reward system to get my homework done.

In addition I spent a large chunk of time curled up under a blanket and listening to music, because being warm and relaxed tends to make people more productive than being cold and stressed. I also set aside some time to do things I enjoy between study sessions, not only to create study breaks but also to feel like I accomplished something I wanted to do, rather than just things I have to do. I also messed around with my lightsabers for a little while, because it's scientific fact that lightsabers make you smarter. True story.

That's basically it for now. Unfortunately I didn't build a fort in the living room of my apartment this time, although the thought did cross my mind. We had one last week and we'll probably build another fairly soon, so I'll keep you posted. Until then, I have the looming threat of midterms to keep me company. But I also have cookies, so y'know...

Hic Manebimus Optime!

Illness and Injury

I am now sick. I am the fourth in my apartment to fall victim to a particularly nasty cold, meaning only two of us are as yet unscathed. I hoped I would escape this one, but today I woke up to a barrage of congestion, runny nose, headache, nausea, drowsiness, fever and a sharp pain right at the point where the nasal passages intersect with the throat. I hate that.

Fortunately, I've been able to bulldoze through my classes despite how I feel, but I don't have much motivation left over for anything else. In fact, I'm typing this from my bed, with a heavy blanket, glass of juice and rapidly dwindling box of tissues.

Oh, and since most of us are either sick or slowly recovering, we decided to give visitors fair warning.

Now you're thinking but wait, doesn't the title mention injury, too? And you're right. A few days ago I slipped on the stairs to my building and scraped most of the skin off the side of one of my toes (bad day to wear sandals). For such a minor-looking injury, it bled an astounding amount and is still disproportionately painful. Many Band-Aids have been consumed.

By now I think I've solidified that this is the worst I've felt in a very, very long time. Still, I think there's something to be learned from it. I'm stubborn like that.

This cold happened to remind me of one I had last year, which stretched on so long that I actually forgot what it felt like to be in good health. The thought made me realize that when I finally recovered, I didn't think too much of it. This is probably because the path out of an illness is slow and gradual, while the way in is rather quick. As a result, you don't realize you've recovered until you look back one day and think to yourself oh look, I'm not sick anymore. Cool beans.

I'm personally frustrated with that pattern, since I believe one should enjoy the high points just as much as one hates the low points. If I hate being sick, shouldn't I celebrate being healthy? That's my point for the day: appreciate health. Look at yourself and say "Gee, I'm so glad I'm not sick right now!" because someday, when you least expect it, you might wake up with some Death-Virus like I just did. And if you aren't currently graced with the benefits of health, just keep pushing along. The world doesn't change what it demands of us just because we aren't in peak condition, so instead we have to change our approach. Take it a day at a time, and someday it'll all work out. I'm rooting for you!

Hic Manebimus Optime!

How I Became a (Slightly) More Organized Person

There's one thing I'd like to say before we get started. I've always been a messy person. Everywhere I go seems to wind up looking like an earthquake struck, or at least that's been the case for a very long time. In the past week or so, however, it seems a miracle has occurred: I've suddenly become organized.

How did this happen? Frankly, I have no idea. I imagine a "responsible adult" switch got flipped somewhere, but that explanation does little to satisfy my loyal readers, so I'll tell you one other theory: I started making my bed.

I realize that probably sounds dumb, but there are plenty of articles that talk about how making your bed not only makes your room look better, but provides a sense of accomplishment, thus setting you up for a day's worth of successes. Plus, when it's time to go to bed at night, you arrive to a tidy, comfortable setting instead of the disaster you left in the morning. Multiple sources claim that building a bed-making habit works wonders, so I decided to give it a shot. And yes, I just became one of those I-didn't-believe-it-until-I-tried-it-and-you-should-too people. Yep, I'm cringing too. Try not to think about it too much.

After that, I seem to have followed a whole chain of organizational habit-building, including the following:

• Maintaining a clean desk. My workspace looks better than it ever has, and for once I have enough room to actually do work while sitting there.
• Using a planner. I've never been able to keep that up for more than three days before, but now I find myself pulling it out all the time.
• Using a calendar. It's a big version of the planner. I've never used one of these properly before, either.
• Cleaning for no reason. Yep, I turned into one of those people. I kind of hate it. But my room looks nice.

Now, I have no business making claims about my great strides without providing photographic proof, right? Right. First off, I'll show you two of my roommates' room. It looks a lot like they way mine did a few weeks ago.

 In contrast, here's mine now. Not bad, right?

Plus, who doesn't love this bedspread? (apart from vegans, I suppose--I don't think they make "keep calm and eat salad" fabrics.)

Oh, and this is my desk. Also looking pretty good lately.

So that's it. I'm going to try not to gloat about how my room is the cleanest in my apartment, or how I'm mastering techniques usually reserved for Pinterest people. Okay, I'm gonna gloat a little. Here we go.

There. I'm done now.

I'm not going to try to push these organizational behaviors on anyone, mostly because I tend to react violently when people tell me what to do with my space. Instead I'll leave you to ponder your options, and maybe submit a humble suggestion that you try making your bed. See if you like it.

Hic Manebimus Optime!

First Day Of College

Ok, so today wasn't actually the first day of college, but I intended to write a post prior to now. In fact, I wanted to write one when I moved in last week, but it didn't happen. So here we are, on the second day of college. Apologies for that.

I'm in there somewhere!

So what's it like? Well, I'm not at Harvard. But if you didn't already know that, I'm not sure what to tell you. I am, however, at Brigham Young University, and I'm enjoying it, if I do say so myself. College is very different from high school, and the last few days have been a major adjustment. I think I'll take a little time to talk about some notable differences, for all those future generations of freshmen and anyone else who may be interested.

1. Living with other people. I have five roommates now instead of my family, and they behave very differently from my family. It will take time to get used to their individual quirks and behaviors.
2. Classes are much farther apart. On a large campus, the struggle is not only to find your classroom, but to find the building in which the class is held. I've been carrying a map lately.
3. Cooking my own food. My summer culinary crash course is serving me well thus far, but it is difficult to juggle cooking time with homework, sleep and the slim possibility of social interaction.
4. Unrealistic expectations. Most professors will claim that you need three hours outside of class for each hour in class, but if you do the math that often adds up to more than 24 hours each day, let alone the fact that I need to sleep sometime. In a world where it's literally impossible to satisfy everyone's demands, you need to learn to put your sanity ahead of school.
5. Rooming with people who stay up later than you. I sleep like a rock, so it isn't really an issue if I turn in early, but for most people this is a legitimate concern, so take note.
6. More than four classes per day. I have five on some days, which is more than I've had on a single day since junior high.
7. Fewer than four classes per day. I also have days with two. This makes it difficult to establish a routine.
8. Unprecedented levels of school spirit. It doesn't matter what sport you're watching or who the opponent is; if you're in the student section, you're fully invested. No excuses.
9. Love/hate relationships. I've developed a lot of these with various things (but not people, thankfully), school being chief among them. I like being here, but I despise homework.

I heard someone say not to let your education get in the way of college, and another not to let college get in the way of your education. Though it seems paradoxical, both of these are true. And in a way, they both say the same thing: much of our learning and growth is done outside of the classroom. It's those little things that happen each day that make us who we are, and ultimately they're the reason why I have to say I love it here.

Hic Manebimus Optime!

What Would You Do For $2250?

This is the story of how I wound up registered for social dance. First of all, I'd like to apologize for once again not posting on Friday, but I was lifeguarding a swim meet for a massive chunk of the day and didn't have enough time to make it happen. (I'll also point out that it was very strange for me not to be in the pool at this meet, but at least this way I get paid.)

Before we begin, I feel I must establish how much I dislike dancing. Which is quite a bit. In fact, I would go so far as to say that the only thing on this earth that makes me more uncomfortable than dancing is tomatoes. No, I will not explain my irrational loathing of tomatoes. Just use your imagination.

Now for the real story. One of the scholarships I'm on track to receive (amounting to about $2250 for this year) requires that I provide proof of registration in at least 15 credits of classes for my first semester. That doesn't seem too bad, or so I thought. At the time I learned of this requirement, I was registered for 14 credits, meaning I needed one more credit.

This is where things get complicated. In order to come up with one more credit, I would need to add a class, preferably one I might enjoy or that could fill a graduation requirement. I had one plan to add two student activities classes (that's code for fun classes), which are half a credit each. Unfortunately, freshmen register last, and literally all of the options I was remotely interested in already had very long waiting lists. End of Plan A.

Plan B: add a cool class, where I might actually learn something useful to my career aspirations without burying myself in homework. One in particular was Innovation Boot Camp, a one-credit class that only meets twice. That's it. Twice. I would be done before my other classes even got rolling, and the class description sounded right up my alley, including developing creative reasoning and inventing skills. I was ready to register for it...until I realized it was a 300-level class. Regardless of how hard it actually is, I don't think I want to be in it with a bunch of juniors and seniors who actually know what they're doing. I had similar results with the entrepreneurship lecture series class. End of Plan B.

Plan C: take an Honors program class. These classes fill two requirements, since they're essentially cognates of two subjects. I wanted to take one on the philosophy of mortality, because it sounded much better than a repeat of my high school biology class for the same requirement. Sadly, it conflicted with other classes in my schedule, some of which had no other sections available. End of Plan C.

Plan D: music! Music 101, or Music Appreciation as we call it at home, is a three-credit class that involves listening to lots of music, learning about different time periods in music history and some basics of musical genres. It wouldn't be anything I didn't learn in my years of piano theory or French horn, so it should be just a nice, easy opportunity to listen to music. And if I thought my schedule was too overloaded, I could postpone my Intro to Honors course (two credits) and still have the 15 I need for my scholarship. Sound too good to be true? It is. That class was full too. End of Plan D.

Plan E: take a writing class? I want to pursue a creative writing minor later in my collegiate education, and several writing classes would grant me useful knowledge as I edit my first novel and embark on several others. Guess what? They all have prerequisites, which as a freshman I haven't yet filled. I'll be back, cool writing classes. Just you wait.

This leaves us with Plan F. Have you guessed what it is? It's social dance. One credit. There's a reason why the men's sections of social dance never fill up. Why's that? Because most of us guys have a natural and instinctive fear of social dance. That's what it boils down to. We fear it. Being a swimmer doesn't help much, as our kind is notoriously uncoordinated in all things that involve being...on...land. Dancing takes place on land. That's bad.

But here I am. Having exhausted all alternatives, I am enrolled in social dance. Hooray for scholarship requirements. Of course, I suppose there are worse ways to get $2250.

Hic Manebimus Optime!

I Graduated. Now What?

One week has transpired since I graduated from high school, and I have had one very important epiphany: it's really hard to remember what day it is when you aren't going to school or work every day. That is why this post is coming out on a Saturday instead of my standard Friday. I actually forgot it was Friday until it was too late. Go me.

Even so, I'm fascinated by the emotional journey I've been subjected to in the last week. This is roughly how my thought process tracked through the first few days:

Day 1 (Graduation): Wow, this is so nice! We actually did it!
Day 2: I'm going to take a day off. I'd say I earned it.
Day 3: I suppose I should start trying to be proactive now. Where's something to do?
Day 4:  Wait... it's Monday... NO SCHOOL! YES!
Day 5: I'm never going to see any of my friends again...
Day 6: There's still social media, right? *logs on to various networks* Hey, wait a second... am I the only one who didn't go on a senior trip? How come I didn't get invited?
Day 7: You mean I actually have time to pursue my hobbies now?
Day 8: Nope, cancel that. I work six days next week.

And here we are.

That said, I'd like to point out that I did actually accomplish some things in the past week. I think I'll list some of them for you. Perhaps it'll give someone ideas on what to do with all this extra time we've inherited, now that we've graduated. But mostly because I just like lists.

Things I Did After Graduation

1. Got a job (lifeguarding, to be specific. Gotta work on that tan. Actually, I don't tan. I just get less white.)
2. Cleaned off my desk at home. I might actually use it, now that school's over. (I had a tendency to do homework wherever I was when I opened my backpack--usually the living room floor.)
3. Cleaned some more in several other rooms in the house. Mostly mine. I don't think it's been fully cleaned since elementary school.
4. Yard work! Garden planting, lawn mowing...trying to make my skin change from translucent to opaque...
5. Learned to cook some things I enjoy eating (hard core college survival skills, right there. I'm going to need to be a master of making something other than pie. I am good at pie.)
6. Started writing another book (and no, I am definitely not one of those people who starts a hundred books and winds up with a pile of Chapter Ones. I'll cover that in a later post.)

So that's basically it. I was expecting to get through graduation and discover my all-new adult self, but much to my dismay I'm still me. Apparently there is no switch to pull to turn you into a responsible adult. I suppose the best thing one can do is apply oneself and hope for the best. I've found that persistence trumps everything, so with luck I'll get the hang of this post-graduation thing pretty soon. We'll see what strange foods I'm cooking next week.

Hic Manebimus Optime!

That Empty Locker Feeling

With only one week left of high school now, the end-of-year procedures have begun, and the nostalgia is hitting hard. AP tests are over, meaning the pressure has been removed from most of my classes, and what remains shouldn't be too hard. Seeing as I essentially only have a stats project left to do (really a glorified free-response problem), I've had some time to think the deep thoughts.

Today was locker clean-out. That's normally a joyous occasion, signifying the end of the work and a beginning of summer. It's one half of a cycle; you find your locker at the beginning of the year, and empty it at the end. In practice, however, clean-out seems to come first, and new lockers second. This is because the distance between clean-out and new locker is only three months, whereas the distance between new locker and clean-out is nine months. The two events serve less as bookends to the school year as they do for the summer. The summer begins with emptying your locker, and ends with getting a shiny new one.

My problem is that this time, the summer won't end with a new locker. I don't get to look forward to returning to old friends, perfecting my paths across the school and embracing my higher status in the school hierarchy. This time, it's over. This is it. At the end of this summer, I won't be returning to someplace familiar, someplace that has become a part of me through all the laughter and tears. I'll be in a whole new place, far from home, in a sea of strangers, trying to navigate the world I've been dropped into.

That realization is what led me to understand the true significance of my locker. This year, I didn't use it for much. In fact, I put my physics textbook in it on the first day of school, and didn't open it again until I needed to stash my lunch during AP tests two weeks ago. Why, then, should I be sad about letting it go?

The truth is, a locker isn't just a locker. I could've kept my physics book at home. Some would argue that I should have (though I assure you I have excelled in the class without it). I put that book in my locker because I didn't want it to be empty. My schedule did not require that I use it as extensively as I have in previous years, but I wanted to keep something in it anyway. A locker provides a sense of place, a feeling of belonging. It's your spot in the school, a link that ties you to the environment where you spend the craziest years you've ever lived through (thus far, of course). Having something in my locker made me feel that I had a place there. It was a sort of anchor, not something I consciously thought about, but something that was always there. And I think that subconscious stability helped me through what I believe to be my hardest year of school.

That's why it was painful for me to turn the knob and pull the lever for the last time, to take that dusty physics book back to the school library. When I walked away from that locker, I severed my last tangible tie to my school.

Don't get me wrong, I'm glad it's almost over. I never loved school, homework or getting up before dawn for swim practice. But this is the place where I've practically lived for years. This is where I've been through the good times and bad, growing up and learning new things, and trying to figure out who I am. This is where I met half my friends, and I know that there are some I'll likely never see again. All these things are integral parts of my high school experience. Those memories are tied to this place, and my locker is my slice of that place. It's a symbol of my identity.

So without a locker, what am I? In the past I've identified as a swimmer, a musician, a nerd. Those are all things connected to high school, and without that, what's left? All external sources of self-definition have been removed, and the next time I walk into a classroom, I'll have nothing to tell me what I am. This time, I'll have to discover what I'm really made of. And at the end of the day, once the dust settles, I can tell you I'm excited to find out.

Hic Manebimus Optime.

Housing Misadventures

I am happy to report that I did successfully finish my online classes, so my graduation from high school is no longer under direct threat (refer to previous post if that sentence made no sense to you). I imagine it will be liberating to no longer have to worry about such things, since I have been doing online classes for the last four years. What will I do with the extra time? Frankly, I have no idea. But I'll come up with something pretty quickly, I'm sure. Just you wait.
In the meantime, the gap left by online classes will be filled with studying for AP tests. There's always something else, isn't there? Another three weeks and things should let up; then we'll be into movie-watching season (last year in calculus we watched all of the extended editions of the Lord of the Rings trilogy after the AP test was over).

But enough of that; on to something that relates to the title of the post!
Now that I know I won't be moving off to Hogwarts--um, I mean, Harvard in the fall, I need to secure housing arrangements at my mid-range school. It all started with finding a room, a process described in several emails I had received from the university. I knew how this was going to work. I logged on to the housing portal at the time and on the day that I was instructed (this was with priority status, mind you) only to find that there were a whopping zero beds available in on-campus housing. None.

Well, that isn't entirely true. There were a few beds available in the sardine-can dormitories where students are required to purchase a meal plan, but zero in the apartments with kitchens (that's where I wanted to live). My reasoning for not wanting a meal plan is simple enough: it costs about twice as much as actual groceries cost, and I don't want to put my hard-earned scholarship money into cafeteria food. So essentially I had the makings of a very serious problem on my hands.
Fortunately for me, the university in question told me when cancellations in the desired facility would be posted so that I could switch into one.
The chase was on.
So there I sat, staring at the computer screen moments before the clocks struck four. As soon as the counter reached 3:59.59, I refreshed the page and saw that the number zero had changed to six. Not a lot of real estate for the hundreds of students who wanted a slot (and likely dozens who were sitting there hoping to catch one), but at least it wasn't zero. I frantically clicked through the first one I could find--only to receive an error that the bed was taken. That was within the first three seconds.
I backed up and clicked on another, and this time it worked. I had a room. The other four were gone within another ten seconds. I count myself lucky to have gotten one, but I want to make it known that I owe my victory entirely to my years of "sniping" classic Lego sets on eBay in the final five seconds of the auction. Fear my nerd powers.
This is far from the end of the road. I may have escaped the overly expensive meal plan, but my new room was on the first floor of the building, and I would much rather have a higher floor to reduce the amount of noise coming from above. I have a chance now, though, and before this I had none. Now that I have a space in the proper building, I can hopefully trade with someone on a higher floor, which should be a much less stressful process than the adrenaline-pumping escapade of getting a room in the first place. Until then, I have more high school to attend to. Those AP exams aren't getting any farther away.

Hic Manebimus Optime!

Introduction: The Beginning, or the End?

On March 31st, 2016, my dreams were crushed by a simple sentence:

"The Committee on Admissions has completed its Regular Decision meetings, and I am very sorry to inform you that we cannot offer you admission to the Class of 2020."

I received three messages containing this sentence, with minor variations. So I could be calling this "My Life as a Harvard, Yale and Columbia Reject," but why rub it in more than I need to? The point is, I didn't quite make it. It's hard when there are upwards of 30,000 perfectly qualified applicants and 1,600 spots, so I knew the odds weren't great to begin with. In fact, I applied Early Action and was deferred, making the process an arduous six-month wait before finally getting the bad news.

If you were one of the 464 students who were flat-out rejected during the Early Action phase, you have my sympathies. That hurts. But, in a way, I envy you; the Band-Aid got torn off back in December, and you got to move on to other things, unlike the 4,673 of us who were deferred. Out of those, a lucky few got in during the Regular Decision phase. To those who didn't, I have something to say: Welcome to the Insult to Injury club. We are an elite 10% of the total applicants, and we each endured the longest possible wait before finally being put out of our misery--or into misery, I suppose, since we now need to find somewhere else to go to school.

Yale's letter even said "I hope the replies you receive from other colleges this spring will soon erase any disappointment regarding Yale's decision." Ouch. Normally that'd be a nice thing to hear, but not when the only other responses you got were also rejections.
I'm not bitter in any way toward the institutions that denied my admission. Statistically, the vast majority of applicants wind up like me. Was I sad? Definitely. Did I cry a little?

Maybe.
I'll never experience the 'round-the-clock availability of unlimited pancakes and Jamba Juice at Columbia, Yale's unlimited free 3D printing or, well... Harvard. But it's time to dust myself off and get on with it. The fact is, with all three of my reach schools out of the question, I'm down to my mid-range school and my safety school, and I still have some important choices to make.

I don't want these disappointments to define who I will become. Regardless of whether I believe it right now, (or if you do, dear reader), there is life after rejection from your dream school. I've got a whole lot of life ahead of me, and so do you. One of my rejection letters said "I hope you will go on to great success in your pursuits." And you know what?

Challenge Accepted.