Shouting the Poetic Truths of High School Journal Keepers

Wednesday, March 02, 2005

March 2, 1996

Think of the last few weeks in February as my sabbatical. And let's just leave it at that. But my friends, today I thought I must write because now -- this very instant -- I am (although I don't suppose I am very good at estimating) thousands of feet above ground level, and since you know I am not one to frequently volunteer w/ NASA, your next guess is right -- up up & away in a jet plane! I'm on the return trip (it's about 9:45 PM or whatever) from the beautiful, but oh-so-frigid Minneapolis/St Paul area, as I was this morning competing for a scholarship at Hamline University in the latter city. But don't jump the gun, muchachos. There's a 90% chance I won't be going there. At least I hope not. But as I was advised, I kept my options open -- and they still are, for the most part. Yeah, I'm so indecisive. But as you may have guessed, too, I am starting to narrow down the BIG EIGHT that once were (smallest to largest, by degree of latitude): Hamline, Macalester (St. Paul, too), Kalamazoo (MI, which I visited last weekend with my dad to compete for a writing scholarship -- some shit about Frankenstein I had to B.S. my way through -- but some otherwise pleasant experiences, like driving there at night on a fast highway listening to Herbie Hancock jazz & talking with a student over lunch whose name is now curiously forgotten** -- he was a swingin' fellow, though, reminiscent of several characters I've met over the years, including a boy named Jesse who works at Record Swap), U. of Iowa, Washington U. (in St. Louis, which looks like it's my current favorite -- but then I probably shouldn't have written that, should I? Not when I haven't even been accepted or gotten any money or -- Jesus, I'm hunched over this dining tray with a plastic cup of ginger ale & I feel like a sportswriter drinking gin & tonic at midnight, pecking away at his typewriter, smoking his cigar -- anyway ... it was unwise of me to have said that lest I disappoint myself), University of North Carolina @ Chapel Hill (or UNCCH, if you, like I do, prefer), Duke U. (hell of a long-shot -- there's one scholarship that I could possibly get, but if I don't, it's way out of our league), & last, and it might as well be least, too, since it's already out of the picture, Emory in Atlanta, to where I wasn't named a finalist in their Emory Scholar Program (made it somewhat easier on me, though, since the scholarship weekend was on one of the performance dates for the musical). That's without a doubt the most I have ever written in this book about my college plans; don't know why I've been so reluctant -- maybe cuz it would've been akin to talking about my family (although a) I'm not sure why, and b) I'm not sure why I don't like talking about them, either... -- not interesting enough? too embarrassing? hmmm....) I'm sure Kristy Rav3n has written reams about M.I.T. -- a whole page on the actual process of running to the mailbox & retrieving the envelope... but then again, I'm not Kristy. And even though I dearly love the girl, that's not necessarily a bad thing, either. -- JMC 10:35 pm (and right on-time too, for landing!)


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