So tomorrow (technically today) I'm visiting University of Maryland! And Friday I'm visiting NYU! Woohoo...right? No, not really, to be perfectly honest. Sure, if I'd done this about a month ago, I'd be completely stoked, but in all honestly, I'd rather be sitting at home staring at good ol' Gatsby. The dream of going to NYU was much more alive during the schoolyear, but now I just want to play The Sims and hang out with my friends. Nothing wrong with that, right?
Well, maybe there is. I have a tendency to be stoked about something way before it happens, and then when it is happening, I barely recognize the moment, and it's gone before I know it. Take last year's John Mayer concert for example. June 22nd, I believe...lemme go check the ticket...okay, fine July 21st. Anyhow, when we bought the tickets in May of '07, Tina, Esther, and I were incredibly excited for the occasion. I could barely contain myself at the time. It would be my first concert, I'd be seeing John Mayer, the most gorgeous kiddo on earth, AND I had seats that were very close to the front. But come July, I found myself completely apathetic to the matter. I don't think I had even listened to John Mayer all summer before I went to see him, and now that it's done and over with, I remember barely any of it.
Oh, there are a few random things here and there. I remember Ben Folds singing "Bitches Ain't Shit," the moon looking really colorful and awesome, me switching seats with Esther so she could stand on my chair to see, and Esther attacking my arm when Mayer sang a Radiohead song. But really, if I've loved John Mayer as much as I do since I was thirteen, wouldn't you expect me to have gained a lot more from the experience?
I suppose it's due to being a "here, now" kind of person. Back when I ordered tickets for John Mayer this year (also in May), I wanted to leave for Maryland right away. Same went with making reservations for NYU. Now that I barely care about getting accepted there, I'm worried that it won't impress me or that I won't like it. I wanted to go and be wowed, but I suppose that's not how it'll happen. When I was college searching, I was dying to get away from home, but now I'm quite content living here all the time. There's quite a fine line between summer and the schoolyear, and it really plays hell with my attitude toward certain things.
Look at the SATs. During the schoolyear, I did the best that I could do on those things, and it paid off with a pretty good score. But when I tried doing Subject Testing at the beginning of summer, I said, "Screw this" to my fellow test takers and walked out in the middle of it. I had the whole "Summer is here, and I want to enjoy it now" attitude going.
Bah, well, since I'm going to be driving tomorrow, I think I'd better go and get some sleep. Oh, and yes, I do realize that paragraphs generally group together related information, but that kind of went to hell in this post. Oh well.
Monday, June 16, 2008
Sunday, May 4, 2008
It's not a remarkable feat.
Whenever Richard Cory went downtown,
We people on the pavement looked at him.
He was a gentleman from sole to crown,
Clean-favored and imperially slim.
And he was always quietly arrayed,
And he was always human when he talked,
But still he fluttered pulses when he said,
"Good Morning," and he glittered when he walked.
And he was rich, yes, richer than a king,
And admirably schooled in every grace.
In fine, we thought that he was everything
To make us wish that we were in his place.
So on we worked and waited for the light,
And went without the meat and cursed the bread
And Richard Cory, one calm summer night,
Went home and put a bullet through his head.
We people on the pavement looked at him.
He was a gentleman from sole to crown,
Clean-favored and imperially slim.
And he was always quietly arrayed,
And he was always human when he talked,
But still he fluttered pulses when he said,
"Good Morning," and he glittered when he walked.
And he was rich, yes, richer than a king,
And admirably schooled in every grace.
In fine, we thought that he was everything
To make us wish that we were in his place.
So on we worked and waited for the light,
And went without the meat and cursed the bread
And Richard Cory, one calm summer night,
Went home and put a bullet through his head.
Thursday, April 24, 2008
NYU Accepts 8,809 of 37,000 for a 24% Acceptance Rate
Down 8% from last year. Pretty wild.
This week, 24 percent of applicants to the Class of 2012 will find acceptance letters in their mailboxes.
The acceptance rate dropped eight percentage points from last year's 32 percent, following a national trend of falling acceptance rates.
The Office of Undergraduate Admissions extended fewer offers of admission this year due to a high yield from the Class of 2011 and a larger applicant pool, dean of undergraduate admissions Barbara Hall told WSN in an earlier interview. NYU sent admissions decisions last Wednesday and Thursday to roughly 37,000 applicants.
The Western Interstate Commission for Higher Education projected a national all-time high of graduating high school seniors this year, and NYU's 24 percent acceptance rate is the lowest in recent years.
This spring, 8,809 applicants were offered admission to NYU's Class of 2012 for a projected class size of 4,400 students. The university placed 1,867 students on the waitlist.
Hall, who provided WSN with the statistics, anticipated that the number of students who accept NYU's offer of admission would increase to about 40 percent, up from 38.3 percent for the Class of 2011.
Other universities around the country are reporting new lows. Harvard broke records for the lowest acceptance rate in Ivy League history, recording a 7.1 percent rate. Yale followed closely, accepting 8.3 percent of its applicants.
Well, I had dreams once.
Down 8% from last year. Pretty wild.
This week, 24 percent of applicants to the Class of 2012 will find acceptance letters in their mailboxes.
The acceptance rate dropped eight percentage points from last year's 32 percent, following a national trend of falling acceptance rates.
The Office of Undergraduate Admissions extended fewer offers of admission this year due to a high yield from the Class of 2011 and a larger applicant pool, dean of undergraduate admissions Barbara Hall told WSN in an earlier interview. NYU sent admissions decisions last Wednesday and Thursday to roughly 37,000 applicants.
The Western Interstate Commission for Higher Education projected a national all-time high of graduating high school seniors this year, and NYU's 24 percent acceptance rate is the lowest in recent years.
This spring, 8,809 applicants were offered admission to NYU's Class of 2012 for a projected class size of 4,400 students. The university placed 1,867 students on the waitlist.
Hall, who provided WSN with the statistics, anticipated that the number of students who accept NYU's offer of admission would increase to about 40 percent, up from 38.3 percent for the Class of 2011.
Other universities around the country are reporting new lows. Harvard broke records for the lowest acceptance rate in Ivy League history, recording a 7.1 percent rate. Yale followed closely, accepting 8.3 percent of its applicants.
Well, I had dreams once.
Monday, April 14, 2008
John Mayer can get away with being a jerk.
As age eighteen approaches rapidly, I'm beginning to become more accustomed to exploring realms outside my little suburb wherein the Amish roam. For instance, about a month ago, I took my first train ride to Philadelphia, and two Fridays ago, I took a bus to Washington, D.C. It's exciting seeing new places, even if they aren't really all that far away. We Lancastrians don't tend to leave our county, which can be a great annoyance.
Anyway, last summer, I went to my first concert ever and saw John Mayer, who's the epitome of crazy awesome. I was lucky enough to go, as Mayer was playing at a stadium fifteen minutes from my house, which my mom considered within her driving range (but only barely). I had an amazing time there, with Tina and Esther, and I even have a ticket stub hanging on my wall to remember it. Tina and I vowed to see at least one JM show per summer, from now on, and I aim to stick to it.
For the past few months, I've visited Mayer's website incessantly to see when he'd be posting his summer tour dates, and finally a week ago, he did here: www.johnmayer.com
However, this wasn't as joyous an experience as I had expected, for, if you clicked the above link, you'd have noticed that Pennsylvania isn't highlighted on the map. That's right, he's not coming to PA this summer! What about all the famous and popular places in our state? Philadelphia, Pittsburgh, Hershey, etc.? What about those? Yep, he's just skipping over them this summer, which absolutely defines him as a total jerk.
There is a good side to this story, though, and that is the aforementioned fact that I am no longer afraid of traveling. Hence, Tina and I are going to make a bold one hour and forty minute drive down to Maryland to see J Mizz play in concert. Indeed, he is that good and completely worth seeing. I just don't understand how he can completely skip out on PA, as doing so is almost to the same magnitude of skipping New York City. Maybe I'm overanalyzing this, but he didn't seem too thrilled at the first concert he played. This could have been due to the sixty-four people arrested for drug use, but hey, who knows? I'm just slightly sore at myself for adjusting my own plans to accompany Mayer's, when he ought to be coming to my state. Just shows that he can get away with being a jerk.
And if this article isn't proof enough that John Mayer doesn't do much to piss off his fans, then I don't know what will. If you haven't heard him yet, go buy his shit, or download it, or whatever NOW. He's the coolest kid around.
The only sucky thing about the concert is that I'm going to have to make it through the SATs, AP Test, SAT Subject Tests, and finals before I get a summer sort of off (expect for work and summer homework) and get down to see J Mizz. Well, ughiness.
Anyway, last summer, I went to my first concert ever and saw John Mayer, who's the epitome of crazy awesome. I was lucky enough to go, as Mayer was playing at a stadium fifteen minutes from my house, which my mom considered within her driving range (but only barely). I had an amazing time there, with Tina and Esther, and I even have a ticket stub hanging on my wall to remember it. Tina and I vowed to see at least one JM show per summer, from now on, and I aim to stick to it.
For the past few months, I've visited Mayer's website incessantly to see when he'd be posting his summer tour dates, and finally a week ago, he did here: www.johnmayer.com
However, this wasn't as joyous an experience as I had expected, for, if you clicked the above link, you'd have noticed that Pennsylvania isn't highlighted on the map. That's right, he's not coming to PA this summer! What about all the famous and popular places in our state? Philadelphia, Pittsburgh, Hershey, etc.? What about those? Yep, he's just skipping over them this summer, which absolutely defines him as a total jerk.
There is a good side to this story, though, and that is the aforementioned fact that I am no longer afraid of traveling. Hence, Tina and I are going to make a bold one hour and forty minute drive down to Maryland to see J Mizz play in concert. Indeed, he is that good and completely worth seeing. I just don't understand how he can completely skip out on PA, as doing so is almost to the same magnitude of skipping New York City. Maybe I'm overanalyzing this, but he didn't seem too thrilled at the first concert he played. This could have been due to the sixty-four people arrested for drug use, but hey, who knows? I'm just slightly sore at myself for adjusting my own plans to accompany Mayer's, when he ought to be coming to my state. Just shows that he can get away with being a jerk.
And if this article isn't proof enough that John Mayer doesn't do much to piss off his fans, then I don't know what will. If you haven't heard him yet, go buy his shit, or download it, or whatever NOW. He's the coolest kid around.
The only sucky thing about the concert is that I'm going to have to make it through the SATs, AP Test, SAT Subject Tests, and finals before I get a summer sort of off (expect for work and summer homework) and get down to see J Mizz. Well, ughiness.
Tuesday, April 1, 2008
Thoughts of a crammer.
The SATs are coming up in May, and I'd better score well on them, if I want to have any chance whatsoever of being accepted at NYU. I've started practicing everyday after school, but I can tell that it's all going to be grueling anyhow. What's more is that three days after I take the big SAT, I have a three hour AP test for my statistics class. If I score well on that, I can gain credits for college. Needless to say, I'm a wee bit stressed.
To top it all off, this week, the state of Pennsylvania is forcing all eleventh graders to take the PSSA's (Pennsylvania State Standardized Assessment) to see if we meet the requirements for the level of intelligence a junior should be at. In reading and writing, I usually hit way above average. The same used to be for math (the test is administered to 3rd, 5th, 8th, and 11th grade), but after today, I'm not so certain. I remembered learning about the mathematical procedures that I was being asked to perform but couldn't, for the life of me, remember how to figure them out.
The funny thing about being deemed a "smart kid" at a very young age is that it sometimes has negative effects, rather than the predicted positive ones. When I was twelve, the school decided that I was advanced in math and placed me at an eighth grade level, even though I was only in sixth grade. This state of advancement continued through to high school, and now, as a junior, I'm taking precalculus, a senior math class that half the seniors don't even bother taking themselves. This has caused some unexpected problems, in actuality. On the PSSA's today, most of the material was on subjects from Algebra I and Algebra II. If you follow the regular sequence of math classes, then you had these two courses in tenth and eleventh grade respectively. But if you're "special" like I supposedly am, then you're whisked through the Algebra classes at a fast pace in eighth and ninth grade. The problem that is being posed here is that I don't remember a damn thing from math class in eighth and ninth grade.
This is what terrifies me about standardized tests and even the SATs. Here I am, going to school everyday to learn about sine and cosine, when in reality, I should be reviewing parabolas, exponential variables, and factoring polynomials. In short, you're called above average, taken through all sorts of math courses at top speed, and then given a state test on things you haven't done in years so that you can be deemed below average. What's the deal here? Being smart sounded awesome when I was twelve, but now that I'm facing the consequences, I'm not so sure that I want to be advanced. But the paradox there is that NYU only accepts kids in the top classes.
Well damn.
To top it all off, this week, the state of Pennsylvania is forcing all eleventh graders to take the PSSA's (Pennsylvania State Standardized Assessment) to see if we meet the requirements for the level of intelligence a junior should be at. In reading and writing, I usually hit way above average. The same used to be for math (the test is administered to 3rd, 5th, 8th, and 11th grade), but after today, I'm not so certain. I remembered learning about the mathematical procedures that I was being asked to perform but couldn't, for the life of me, remember how to figure them out.
The funny thing about being deemed a "smart kid" at a very young age is that it sometimes has negative effects, rather than the predicted positive ones. When I was twelve, the school decided that I was advanced in math and placed me at an eighth grade level, even though I was only in sixth grade. This state of advancement continued through to high school, and now, as a junior, I'm taking precalculus, a senior math class that half the seniors don't even bother taking themselves. This has caused some unexpected problems, in actuality. On the PSSA's today, most of the material was on subjects from Algebra I and Algebra II. If you follow the regular sequence of math classes, then you had these two courses in tenth and eleventh grade respectively. But if you're "special" like I supposedly am, then you're whisked through the Algebra classes at a fast pace in eighth and ninth grade. The problem that is being posed here is that I don't remember a damn thing from math class in eighth and ninth grade.
This is what terrifies me about standardized tests and even the SATs. Here I am, going to school everyday to learn about sine and cosine, when in reality, I should be reviewing parabolas, exponential variables, and factoring polynomials. In short, you're called above average, taken through all sorts of math courses at top speed, and then given a state test on things you haven't done in years so that you can be deemed below average. What's the deal here? Being smart sounded awesome when I was twelve, but now that I'm facing the consequences, I'm not so sure that I want to be advanced. But the paradox there is that NYU only accepts kids in the top classes.
Well damn.
Sunday, March 16, 2008
What work has taught me about people.
For whatever reason, I always thought that high school was a gateway into understanding and coping with all sorts of different people. It may appear that way at first, but in reality, high school is an entirely different universe that actually is more useful in diminishing one's social skills, rather than helping them flourish. Let's face it: my social skills are abysmal., and I'm not saying that high school is at fault here. However, since I started ninth grade, I've been waiting for the moment everyone told me I'd have in which a certain group of people or activity in school forced me out of my shell and made me happy. Sadly, it still hasn't come. In fact, I'm pretty sure school has taught me to despise people even more. Surprisingly enough, I believe that my job as a cashier at Weis Markets (w00t) is what is really teaching me how to get along with folks.
Firstly, at school, you're put in classes with those who are just as intelligent as you, a group of friends is always around the corner, and, if you really don't want to talk to anyone, no one's going to force you to. At work, it's different. My coworkers are of all different ages, intelligences, senses of humor, and lifestyles. And we're all stuck working together on the front end. If you expect that we just stand there quietly and service people for a five to eight hour shift, then you're seriously mistaken. Since I've started at Weis, I've met several people to whom I never would have dreamed of talking in school, and quite frankly, I like them. This one girl, for instance, was categorized a loser by my friends. I'd never really talked to her much at school because I had no reason to. She wasn't in any of my classes, and my friends couldn't stand being around her. Now, I happen to work with her, and somehow, through the course of boredom, me not knowing what I'm doing, and her needing a price check, we've become very good friends. And I don't see what my school posse was talking about when they said she was a loser, as, in my opinion she's a pretty cool chick. I could go in depth with other examples of people I never thought I'd talk to (the alcoholic party guy, the football player, the really pretty and popular girl), but I'm tired, so I'll just go on to my next point.
Talking to people you absolute don't know and who you probably won't ever see again is one of the most awkward things a person can do. And wouldn't you know? You can't learn it from school. I'm talking about customers, of course. I ring up the old, the young, the talkative, the impatient - I've pretty much encountered every single personality trait ever defined within a person. At first, I was deathly afraid of talking to my customers, and my mind went blank even if they'd ask me something as simple as what time I was working until. Now, I'm noticing slight improvement, and I've been making an effort at just saying stuff, whatever positive thing comes to mind. If I sound stupid, so what? I'll never see those people again, and, as I always attempt to be pleasant, an occasional good impression can't hurt, either. Maybe I'm just weird or something, but I actually do care about what these people say, no matter how trivial a detail it is in relation to my life. People are so interesting, and talking to them at work is a great way to gain insight that couldn't be gained from a school environment.
Lastly, one of the most important things I've learned is that people are ugly. The media and my high school appear to cooperate with one another to put pressure on folks like me to look awesome. Everyone seems so beautiful when you watch TV or walk through the halls. When I started work, I realized just how few people could be considered "pretty" by societal standards. I'm not saying that I think they're ugly; in reality, I think very few of these people are ugly. And I've met a variety of people since starting my position. Whether rich or poor, everyone needs to go grocery shopping at some point in time. I just think it's amusing how much importance is imposed on looking perfect when really, once you pass your mid-twenties, any hopes of achieving society's tolerated level of beauty are almost automatically obsolete. It almost makes it seem ridiculous to try to look that good now. I think I'm going to stick with the sweatshirts and tie-dye and continue to not do my hair every morning. If I'm going to look like a schlampe after thirty anyway, then I might as well get some practice now.
Well, in conclusion, I don't hate my job because it has been an awesome learning experience so far (plus I can't complain about the hundred bucks a week). I'm not saying that people are decent or anything, just that I'm happy that I'm starting to learn how to deal with them. Call me a sap, but I like the notion of getting along with everyone. It makes life easier to not have to look at someone and despise them (it does help that one of the kids I despise at work was just fired). And thus, I end this rather optimistic post in which I have begun way too many sentences with conjunctions to go to bed.
Firstly, at school, you're put in classes with those who are just as intelligent as you, a group of friends is always around the corner, and, if you really don't want to talk to anyone, no one's going to force you to. At work, it's different. My coworkers are of all different ages, intelligences, senses of humor, and lifestyles. And we're all stuck working together on the front end. If you expect that we just stand there quietly and service people for a five to eight hour shift, then you're seriously mistaken. Since I've started at Weis, I've met several people to whom I never would have dreamed of talking in school, and quite frankly, I like them. This one girl, for instance, was categorized a loser by my friends. I'd never really talked to her much at school because I had no reason to. She wasn't in any of my classes, and my friends couldn't stand being around her. Now, I happen to work with her, and somehow, through the course of boredom, me not knowing what I'm doing, and her needing a price check, we've become very good friends. And I don't see what my school posse was talking about when they said she was a loser, as, in my opinion she's a pretty cool chick. I could go in depth with other examples of people I never thought I'd talk to (the alcoholic party guy, the football player, the really pretty and popular girl), but I'm tired, so I'll just go on to my next point.
Talking to people you absolute don't know and who you probably won't ever see again is one of the most awkward things a person can do. And wouldn't you know? You can't learn it from school. I'm talking about customers, of course. I ring up the old, the young, the talkative, the impatient - I've pretty much encountered every single personality trait ever defined within a person. At first, I was deathly afraid of talking to my customers, and my mind went blank even if they'd ask me something as simple as what time I was working until. Now, I'm noticing slight improvement, and I've been making an effort at just saying stuff, whatever positive thing comes to mind. If I sound stupid, so what? I'll never see those people again, and, as I always attempt to be pleasant, an occasional good impression can't hurt, either. Maybe I'm just weird or something, but I actually do care about what these people say, no matter how trivial a detail it is in relation to my life. People are so interesting, and talking to them at work is a great way to gain insight that couldn't be gained from a school environment.
Lastly, one of the most important things I've learned is that people are ugly. The media and my high school appear to cooperate with one another to put pressure on folks like me to look awesome. Everyone seems so beautiful when you watch TV or walk through the halls. When I started work, I realized just how few people could be considered "pretty" by societal standards. I'm not saying that I think they're ugly; in reality, I think very few of these people are ugly. And I've met a variety of people since starting my position. Whether rich or poor, everyone needs to go grocery shopping at some point in time. I just think it's amusing how much importance is imposed on looking perfect when really, once you pass your mid-twenties, any hopes of achieving society's tolerated level of beauty are almost automatically obsolete. It almost makes it seem ridiculous to try to look that good now. I think I'm going to stick with the sweatshirts and tie-dye and continue to not do my hair every morning. If I'm going to look like a schlampe after thirty anyway, then I might as well get some practice now.
Well, in conclusion, I don't hate my job because it has been an awesome learning experience so far (plus I can't complain about the hundred bucks a week). I'm not saying that people are decent or anything, just that I'm happy that I'm starting to learn how to deal with them. Call me a sap, but I like the notion of getting along with everyone. It makes life easier to not have to look at someone and despise them (it does help that one of the kids I despise at work was just fired). And thus, I end this rather optimistic post in which I have begun way too many sentences with conjunctions to go to bed.
Thursday, March 13, 2008
Cancel Out the Day
Haha, weird, cynical mood. Pretty soon it'll be nine months until my birthday, which basically means that eighteen years ago, I came into existence. I'm glad that tradition made us have birthdays and not conception days because I don't think I'll even be ready to be legal in November. I like getting half hour breaks at work when I've got a five hour shift. I like not having to vote and whatnot. Seventeen is honestly not a bad age, however, it is probably one of the most forgotten. Everyone puts emphasis on what they believe are the best ages, but some of the most crucial moments have happened in the years that are predecessors to my "sweet" sixteen and upcoming eighteenth birthday.
It may not be such a terrible thing that I constantly reminisce my past years and wonder how I could've been so stupidly naive. That means I learned something that changed the course of my thoughts, no matter how trivial a change it was. One thing I hope to never do is stop learning about life, the world, and my perceptions on it. There's something contradictorily satisfying about never actually being satisfied with any one answer to "Why are we here?" I find myself often amused when people say "Everything happens for a reason" or "We're all just wandering around with nothing to live for or look forward to." How do you pick? This is one of the many decisions where each side has as many positives and negatives as the other.
I can't help but smile when I realize that, since I've just stated that I hope I never cease to learn, there probably will come a time where some days only existed as fillers, and the boring events that occurr will combine with my unenthusiastic attitude to practically cancel out the day. I don't want to become a zombie, but then again, two years ago, I didn't want to become a cynic. But now I'm glad to be one. When you look at it, though, my cynicism spawned from frustrated idealism. I'm guessing zombieness can result from frustrated cynicism.
It may not be such a terrible thing that I constantly reminisce my past years and wonder how I could've been so stupidly naive. That means I learned something that changed the course of my thoughts, no matter how trivial a change it was. One thing I hope to never do is stop learning about life, the world, and my perceptions on it. There's something contradictorily satisfying about never actually being satisfied with any one answer to "Why are we here?" I find myself often amused when people say "Everything happens for a reason" or "We're all just wandering around with nothing to live for or look forward to." How do you pick? This is one of the many decisions where each side has as many positives and negatives as the other.
I can't help but smile when I realize that, since I've just stated that I hope I never cease to learn, there probably will come a time where some days only existed as fillers, and the boring events that occurr will combine with my unenthusiastic attitude to practically cancel out the day. I don't want to become a zombie, but then again, two years ago, I didn't want to become a cynic. But now I'm glad to be one. When you look at it, though, my cynicism spawned from frustrated idealism. I'm guessing zombieness can result from frustrated cynicism.
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