I haven't posted in a long time, excluding playlists/poems. The past month has been crazy...from hearing about colleges to unwanted prom drama, the two of which are obviously at opposite ends of the importance spectrum. To summarize:
I didn't get into Vassar. Or many of the others I expected to get into and would have loved to go to. I visited Connecticut College and liked it (especially the music department), but visiting Whitman was a clear indicator that I was going to go there. I fell in love with the campus, the residence halls, the people, the rivers, the mountains, the rolling green hills, and the town (among many other more subtle things, like the canoe hanging from the ceiling of the library). I even enjoyed the sports a little, which says something.
So now that I'm in love with Whitman, I can honestly say that I don't care about the others...thinking about Vassar I am completely neutral...I wouldn't choose it over Whitman now. It seriously is like falling in love with someone (ha, not that I have before) -- once you find "the one," none of the past or future options matter.
And then last night I was talking to a bunch of people in the Class of 2015 group, and at least 5 of them said that Swell Season and/or Damien Rice were their favorite artists. I was literally drooling at the thought of finding "my people." It was the best feeling ever...
Though few people have heard of Whitman, and though the acceptance rate is higher than a lot of the ones applied to...I seriously love it, and that's all that matters for me. I'm really thankful that my parents don't care about that kind of thing...And after talking to PJ (my regional admissions dude), I realize that the acceptance rate is only that high because there are fewer applicants than most colleges and that a lot of colleges count EVERY incomplete application just to make the numbers better. And Whitman's caliber of education is basically equal to those with lower acceptance rates. It's kind of self-selecting, too.
Long story short: I'm proud to don my Whitman sweatshirt and lanyard.
Goodbyes. Yes, this is the stereotypical "senior in high school getting ready to go out into the real world" time. Nothing has truly hit me yet. But sometimes when there's a lot of commotion or when everyone is just happy and having a good time, I just place the scene in a mental documentary of my life in which the sound is taken out, it's put in slightly-slow motion, and a Sigur Rós song (or something along those lines) is playing underneath. That's when I feel sad...putting it in the big picture. Like that scene at the end of "Marley and Me," when the husband is looking at his wife and kids in slow motion and admiring the quality of his life. All these people...some of whom mean so much to me right now...are just passing fancies. Everything will change. Probably for the better, but some things for the worse. And I'm just thinking about saying goodbye...to Alice, Aneea, John, Katie, Miranda, my favorite teachers, my parents, my other family members...I don't know if I'll cry. Well, like last year when I was saying goodbye to Anna, I didn't cry RIGHT away. It was only when I turned around to walk away...then I really started to bawl. You can't predict your emotions...they will only be what they are in the moment.
I have 3 days left, excluding today. Then two weeks of APs, which don't really matter. And then one week of nothing...then graduation. That is nothing. Everything is plunging toward the end. Plunge. Strange word.
Yesterday morning, I was totally panicked about starting Beauty and the Beast yesterday afternoon. To the point that I had to take anti-nausea medicine. And it was for absolutely nothing. I got there, and there were 4 keyboards and 1 bass set up, and at first I freaked out because Ms. H told me I was gonna be the only one wired through the system, which meant I'd be the most audible. But then she started dividing the parts among people...like, "who has the 16th notes the best?" and other things. So I was completely relieved that I wasn't responsible for covering every note. And she also said that we could "cheat" on some of the songs that I was struggling with the most (Gaston, Be Our Guest, etc.) by using the CD. YES.
I wouldn't say the standards are as high as what I'm used to (and definitely not as high as the standards I had for myself), but hey, I'm getting paid for being in a show band...at 18. A good start, I'd say.
Anyway, this period ends in 4 minutes.
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