operations of the subliminal one.
What? right.. the door's over there? then what's this I'm running into? *shaking head to obtain optimum view* Ah the omnipresent wall. *crash boom bang*
It's not that I like to crib.. ok fine, i tend to indulge it once in a while (begging friends to not speak up and refute this). During these tedious, nerve wracking, nail biting days of waiting, if it's not the weather then it's my constant need to justify my entire application!! question the SOP, question the writing sample...question dismal grades of the undergrad phenomenon. of course I can write better. But that's exactly the point right? that is what I'm looking for in an MFA. The absolute power of it all. the time to completely drown oneself in the writing hoopla, the exposure to other writers, other resources that I might not have tapped into yet and need a nudge or shove in the said direction. So, this may sound extremely strange, but I actually think I deserve to get into SOME program this year. I'm certain all other applicants think they should too! which makes this whole process so great if I do actually get in. I'm shivering in anticipation of being a part of a program and being surrounded by all such talented people.
Hear my plea.. o admissions committee.
Most of my day is spent in constantly refreshing a number of pages.. my email inbox, facebook, the MFA blog..and at times when i need some distraction, i find that wall i keep running into. I speak to friends on the phone and feel like gagging coz i have nothing new to say. It's cold, i stay home and sashay between the kitchen and living room, the former for sustenance and the latter.. well I just told you, refreshing pages hoping for a life altering message.
But I'm still insanely hopeful and jump at the sound of the phone ringing. I never thought too highly of all those 1800 numbers and it should suffice to say that now, I answer the call (coz what if the area codes changed and the programs I'm waiting to hear from are having fun at my expense just to see how I'd react to an 1800 number? I also imagine the admissions committee is a gust of periwinkle blue vapor that can think and is calling me in many raspy voices), hear the "this call may be recorded for quality management purposes" and cut them off in mid sentence. I hang up. no goodbyes, no polite exchanges of "i'm really not interested", nothing. I just shut the flip phone back into it's display position. I can't be who you want me to be Mr. XYZ in sales and services.
So here's to another week of antsy grumblings in the tum tums. Obsessive checking of my mailbox, inbox, blogs and online application status. God help you if you are a telemarketer.
It's not that I like to crib.. ok fine, i tend to indulge it once in a while (begging friends to not speak up and refute this). During these tedious, nerve wracking, nail biting days of waiting, if it's not the weather then it's my constant need to justify my entire application!! question the SOP, question the writing sample...question dismal grades of the undergrad phenomenon. of course I can write better. But that's exactly the point right? that is what I'm looking for in an MFA. The absolute power of it all. the time to completely drown oneself in the writing hoopla, the exposure to other writers, other resources that I might not have tapped into yet and need a nudge or shove in the said direction. So, this may sound extremely strange, but I actually think I deserve to get into SOME program this year. I'm certain all other applicants think they should too! which makes this whole process so great if I do actually get in. I'm shivering in anticipation of being a part of a program and being surrounded by all such talented people.
Hear my plea.. o admissions committee.
Most of my day is spent in constantly refreshing a number of pages.. my email inbox, facebook, the MFA blog..and at times when i need some distraction, i find that wall i keep running into. I speak to friends on the phone and feel like gagging coz i have nothing new to say. It's cold, i stay home and sashay between the kitchen and living room, the former for sustenance and the latter.. well I just told you, refreshing pages hoping for a life altering message.
But I'm still insanely hopeful and jump at the sound of the phone ringing. I never thought too highly of all those 1800 numbers and it should suffice to say that now, I answer the call (coz what if the area codes changed and the programs I'm waiting to hear from are having fun at my expense just to see how I'd react to an 1800 number? I also imagine the admissions committee is a gust of periwinkle blue vapor that can think and is calling me in many raspy voices), hear the "this call may be recorded for quality management purposes" and cut them off in mid sentence. I hang up. no goodbyes, no polite exchanges of "i'm really not interested", nothing. I just shut the flip phone back into it's display position. I can't be who you want me to be Mr. XYZ in sales and services.
So here's to another week of antsy grumblings in the tum tums. Obsessive checking of my mailbox, inbox, blogs and online application status. God help you if you are a telemarketer.
posted by freakshow at
1:23 PM
1 Comments:
Loved the post!
This is one waiting game that I can't wait to leave behind!
Post a Comment
Subscribe to Post Comments [Atom]
<< Home