JPS
Serving humanity by counterexample
I'm seventeen and in the past half month have experienced more rejection than I've ever experienced in my life. My coping mechanisms are fried like a computer in a swimming pool and in consequence I'm not really sure what to do besides write about the experience.
I don't know what anyone can do to help but simply read my post. After all I wouldn't like to wallow in self-pity for an especially long period of time because college applications are due in two days and I need to get my ass in gear. I'm sure I'll be fine, though.
So in essence my grades suck, but I decided anyway to apply to an ivy league school's binding early decision program. Why? Because that's where I envisioned myself, really—few schools in the country offer the program I desire, and this was one of the best among them. I also figured my essays and SAT scores would both help to counteract my low GPA.
Big mistake. On December 11th I received my rejection "letter," together with a girl I had met earlier that week on Facebook, who applied to the same program as me. We talked for a long time and I naturally became very attracted to her: she was intelligent and beautiful, and we shared uncountably many interests and passions. We even arranged a "date" or time to meet towards the middle of January (which, as of now, is in the lurch). She lives on the other side of the country.
You might be able to see where this is going. I, the emotional connoisseur I am, decided tonight to confess my feelings for her, and she declared, when prompted to give her opinion of me, that I was very nice and intelligent, yet, if I thought about it, I would realize how unrealistic the situation (or, the prospect of a long-distance relationship) is. Strike two.
Hopefully there will be no strike three; but if it is to occur, it will probably be in mid-March as the rest of my college decisions come back.
Now, here is the million dollar question: does the world suck for denying me my whims or do I suck for painting bulls eyes in the clouds? I'd have to be a whiny little bitch to conclude the former, to be totally honest. Yet I understand, in part, that neither me nor the world sucks; we each just are what we are, and I must learn to live with both my perfectionism and the world's lack of compunction.
I think I'm about done complaining. Take everything I just said with a grain of salt, though, as I'm in a bit of a state right now.
I don't know what anyone can do to help but simply read my post. After all I wouldn't like to wallow in self-pity for an especially long period of time because college applications are due in two days and I need to get my ass in gear. I'm sure I'll be fine, though.
So in essence my grades suck, but I decided anyway to apply to an ivy league school's binding early decision program. Why? Because that's where I envisioned myself, really—few schools in the country offer the program I desire, and this was one of the best among them. I also figured my essays and SAT scores would both help to counteract my low GPA.
Big mistake. On December 11th I received my rejection "letter," together with a girl I had met earlier that week on Facebook, who applied to the same program as me. We talked for a long time and I naturally became very attracted to her: she was intelligent and beautiful, and we shared uncountably many interests and passions. We even arranged a "date" or time to meet towards the middle of January (which, as of now, is in the lurch). She lives on the other side of the country.
You might be able to see where this is going. I, the emotional connoisseur I am, decided tonight to confess my feelings for her, and she declared, when prompted to give her opinion of me, that I was very nice and intelligent, yet, if I thought about it, I would realize how unrealistic the situation (or, the prospect of a long-distance relationship) is. Strike two.
Hopefully there will be no strike three; but if it is to occur, it will probably be in mid-March as the rest of my college decisions come back.
Now, here is the million dollar question: does the world suck for denying me my whims or do I suck for painting bulls eyes in the clouds? I'd have to be a whiny little bitch to conclude the former, to be totally honest. Yet I understand, in part, that neither me nor the world sucks; we each just are what we are, and I must learn to live with both my perfectionism and the world's lack of compunction.
I think I'm about done complaining. Take everything I just said with a grain of salt, though, as I'm in a bit of a state right now.