SO DONE WITH HIGH SCHOOL, UNBELIEVABLY SCARED OF COLLEGE

You know how obnoxious the "No Child Left Behind" legislation has proved throughout my life? When I was in elementary school (Oh, how I miss last year), I lived elsewhere, and the grade above me was a rambunctious crowd. They were always ruining things for my grade. Like, in the fourth grade, we were supposed to go on an overnight trip to an rural area that, according to urban legends, reeked of fudge. The grade above us stole money from one of their counselors while on Fudge Paradise The Best Yummy Island, and we were denied the fudge-filled excursion as a result of their irresponsibility. When I was told, I was overcome by a bizarre physiological experience - the exchange of a watering mouth for watering eyes. My class was likewise crushed, and in desperate need of comfort food. Fudge would've done wonders. They should have at least shipped in some fudge to have on hand when they told us. I guess I do understand Michelle's Project Healthy Schools thing. It would not be far-fetched to label our level of disappointment irrational. Far-fetched sounds like far-fudged. Then, two years after that, we had to go to a water waste treatment plant instead of ice skating. If administration thought, "Aye. A trip's a trip. The kids will just be happy to get out of school," they were tripping. Maybe the grade above me brought in some weed-laden fudge or something. Probably they had a fudge-making center in some basement, and the funds they had extracted from past counselors allowed them to get all the drugs and corn syrup they needed to sh*t on our hopes and dreams. I don't swear, but given the water waste treatment connection...plus I a*sterisked it. Maybe they thought surrounding us with brown-ness would help clear the air regarding the infamous Fudge Denial Incident, but the air was not clear. It did not reek of fudge at the water waste treatment facility. It just reeked. That was a real stinker of a trip. A reek stinker of a trip. This isn't even clever. Once in gym class, we played an intense game of ican'tremember, and at the end the winning team got ribbons and the other team didn't. I was on the other team. The next day ribbons were begrudgingly bestowed to everyone who hadn't won the day before, by a gym teacher that had clearly been bombarded by many a vicious email from anal-retentive soccer moms the past night. My mom was so excited that I had been denied a ribbon. She hated the "Everyone is special, we can't award recognition to those who have succeeded for fear of upsetting those who haven't." I didn't really get it. I guess, even though the No Child Left Behind principles have impacted me negatively, a part of me has entirely bought into them. A part of me really does believe I am special. Even as I am typing this, there's this voice in my head, building me up: "Far-fudged! You're the best! Keep it up! Keep the genius coming!" I think I'm better than what I am, for sure. And this isn't insecurity. I'm not really a fan of fishing, even if it is for compliments. It's a statement of fact. One of my friends got into New York University. Another, Yale. YALE YOU GUYS. YALE. YOU COULD GO TO JAIL. JAIL, RON. JAIL.  I applied to Ohio State University, University of Michigan, Cornell, Dartmouth, Northwestern. Northwestern was ridiculous from the get-go. I know a girl at my school who got in. She got a 28 on the ACT, and had probably well over a 4.0. She was 13th in our class. I had a 31 on the ACT and was 34th. I guess I thought maybe, with my after-school activities...well, if Steven Colbert applied, so can I! Rejected. No surprise there. However, it was, in a sense. Part of me, a part I am intent on learning to destroy, was pretty sure I'd make the cut. Pretty sure I could go to NORTHWESTERN. After failing AP Environmental Science. After failing ALGEBRA 1. Well, the first time. The second time I was amazingly amazing at it. Due to extreme paranoia, but a 98 is a 98. See there it is again. My "youdabest" streak kicking in again. Why would I think I could go to Northwestern? Why does a small part of me still think this is just the worst dream ever? Why would I dream about watching 90210 if this was a dream? I do enough of that in my waking hours, for whatever reason. Then, Cornell and Dartmouth. My peppy of-course-you're-in streak was full blown for Cornell. Even after I did so horribly on my SAT Subject Tests I should've pulled my application right after taking it. I did better than 21% of people on my math section of the SAT Subject Test. That is downright embarrassing. I didn't even make top 50%. And, in my strong suit, in the areas where my scores always exceeded 30 on the ACT, only did better than 75% of people in Literature. Come on, idiot. Quit idioting. This is colleging. Let's do something impressive for once. Cornell doesn't want me. Dartmouth doesn't want me. Let's be real. They are pretty much the same school. Except Cornell is way better. I don't know why, but I know it is. Rejected a second time, rejected a third. Michigan. I had gotten into OSU, now I was waiting for the email saying, "We want you to be a wolverine! Here's a massive scholarship! Please just come here please! It only took so long to tell you because we wanted to rack up funds for your hugely huge scholarship! You've got a full ride and also we we actually pay you money to leave Ohio to come here!" And then it'd be so fun to post something to Facebook like, "Whoa. OSU acceptance vs. University of Michigan acceptance. What to do...? Maybe you guys can help me out in the comments" or something hideous like that. Even my neurotic internal cheerleader wouldn't disagree that such a status is obnoxious as all get-out, but I would've proudly sent that sucker into cyberspace. But, Michigan doesn't care that I'm wanting to compare two opposites who have both extended a hand to me. Michigan is fine with letting Ohio keep me. Well, I've got news for you Michigan. I am not so fine with letting Ohio keep me. You know what is the worst is part of me thinks that these colleges will read what I am writing and be like "You can't ever come to us because you talked bad about us and even though you have freedom of speech this is taking it too far." As if these colleges care about what I have to say. A lot of my friends were accepted to close to ten schools. It would have been pretty ridiculous to be accepted to nine schools, seeing as I applied to five, but more than one would have been nice. I'm not one of the kids who applied to one school and one school only because they know what they want and that's it done and done. I'm a girl that thinks herself way better than she is. That the only place who admitted her was the place she brushed aside and kept on the back burning as a last resort. I even changed up my general Common App essay a ton before submitting it. My dad helped me with one and he revised and revised and we worked to sculpt my Anne Frank essay into something beautiful. Then, before I submitted it, I decided I hated it. It was very late at night. I rewrote it, probably into a mess, and clicked "Submit" in terror, but with a bizarre sense of self-assurance. I guess sleep-deprivation and incurable narcissism could do that to a girl. I decided to look on Common App, just to see what crap I sent to these places. There is a typo in what I sent. The number oneTHENUMBERONE rule is not to have a typo. That shows you don't care. The lady that came to my English class said if she encounters a typo, she stops reading the essay then and there. "Because of Anne Frank, I know that it's okay to grow into yourself. I know
that itís okay to wait to share how you feel and what you want until you knowing you're telling the truth" REALLY THOUGH, MYSELF? REALLY YOU JERK?!? YEAH I FINISHED READING IT AND YES I REALIZE CAPS LOCK IS ON BUT I AM PRETTY PISSED BECAUSE THAT WAS ABSOLUTE CRAP THAT I SENT. THE COLLEGES THAT REJECTED ME WERE PRETTY GENTLE IN USING THE WORD "REGRET." Oh you regret that I can't come? I regret that I wrote an essay about sticking ticket stubs to my wall into of Nelson Mandella and Anne's Frank's specific experience. I regret that I revised the crap out of my dad's (who has served on admission committees, just as a side note) suggestions until I was left with crap. Typo-ed crap. I am a reek stinker. And no I'm not going to read through this because I'll just find a buttload stop with the toilet humor of typos and I can't take it.