This couldn't have been a decision that you just came up with in the last few months. You said yourself in that ridiculous e-mail that even had typos in it that you couldn't be bother to correct that you and your wife had wanted to move for a very long time. During the past two school years, I have seen you almost every single day.
Every.
Single.
Freaking.
Day.
And you were my advisor! You were the one who sat me down during my freshman year and let me completely and totally fall apart because you were worried that I wasn't going to stay and needed some help and encouragement. That was you. That was you caring. You made me play a duck call upwards of fifteen times last year. You teased me all the time. You don't just tease and leave, dude. That's low.
Or you at least say your good-byes. No, instead, the music department wakes up to an e-mail that has perhaps twenty words in it, three of which misspelled, and an attached letter. Not only was the letter directed towards everyone you were going to have to part with and, therefore, not really directed specifically towards your students, it answered nothing. The first paragraph had a point - this is where I'm going and why. But after that, I didn't need to know what your schedule was going to be like in this other school! I don't care! And then for the final parting paragraph about how much you enjoyed Northwest and its students to be two sentences long... whatever! Oh, and the kicker? Not everyone got a letter, and some people got two or three. Typical. But yeah, I don't care what you're going to be in charge of now! You know what would've been nice? An actual personal e-mail explaining everything - EVERYTHING - and then saying what was going to happen next for us. Saying whether or not they have someone else picked out to take your place.
But I liked you, sir. Some people are elated that you are leaving, but the truth is, I really liked you. You frustrated the crap out of me with your lack of organization, but still. You kept my chin up. You encouraged me. You made me laugh. You helped me make music. You actually cared about me. And now you're gone. Without an actual good-bye. The year that terrifies me, the year that I have so much stepping up into leadership to do, is the year that you decide to leave. What the heck, sir? And Joel is even leaving, which throws another responsibility on me that I have to hurry and grow to fill. Freaking sweet.
Everything is going to change because you're gone.
But what do you care. You're gone.
0
0
0
I'm homesick, I'm home alone, voila.
I am a little girl. I get excited easily, nervous easily, scared easily, and thrilled easily. I love exploring and feeling and smiling. I want to fly. I want to sing loudly and play Christmas music on the piano while my family sits at the dinner table. I don't want to let go of dreams. I want to be allowed to fail every now and then. I like the toy sections in Wal-Mart more than the home decor sections. I never want to stop being my daddy's little girl or princess.
I am a grown-up woman. I have ambitions and dreams and I aim to run after them with all that I have. I love having responsibilities and challenges because they give me something to apply myself to. From time to time, I even like cleaning house and doing dishes and cooking. I like the thought of having my own career. I daydream about a future in a different place with a family of my own. I want to take kids to karate lessons and dance practices. I want to be the kind of woman a man could be proud of. I want to be vibrant and exuberant and affect people.
But the reality is, I'm stuck between the two. I want to jump out on my own, but I still get homesick from time to time and sleep with a stuffed dog. I want to just sit and marvel and explore absolutely everything around me, but I want a job to do too. I want to start my career, but the expenses of life scare me. I want to chase my ambitions and make the difference that I know I was born to make, but I'm scared.
I'm somewhere between a little girl and an adult. And it's terrifying.
Here's what I know, though.
Even when I have an apartment and a husband and two kids and a puppy, I will still have two amazing guys as brothers and a set of parents that will be there for me. Even when I have my own little princesses, I'll still be Daddy's little girl. Even when I come home from my job at school worn out and frustrated, I'll have the friends only a phone call away that I know will pick up and be able to share my concerns with. Even when I can finally navigate city traffic like a pro, I'll still know how to drive a combine. Even if I never come back to Maryville after I leave here, I'll know that I'll still be connected to the church here.
I don't know if anyone ever truly feels like they're ready to be grown-up. Everyone, I think, has a piece of their childhood that they never want to let go of. For me, I think it's just the freedom to imagine. To dream and marvel and pretend.
And I think God's okay with that. He loved me as a little girl, and He'll love me as an adult, and He loves me in this in-between time too. But I think He doesn't want me to ever stop being awed. I think He wants to wow His girl with something new every single day. I think He wants me to explore His love and His mission for me and all of that. I think He's fine-tuned an adventure just for me.
So maybe I don't know which column I fit into right now - kid or adult. And maybe I never will. And maybe that's okay. It's okay to be homesick. It's okay to be scared. It's okay to want to be done with school and just go. It's okay to wish for the future. It's okay to miss the past.
I don't know where I was going with this. But I know where I've wound up. With reassurance that God has helped me grow up this far, and He's not done with me yet.
Phew.
I didn't know how much I needed to be told that again.
I am a grown-up woman. I have ambitions and dreams and I aim to run after them with all that I have. I love having responsibilities and challenges because they give me something to apply myself to. From time to time, I even like cleaning house and doing dishes and cooking. I like the thought of having my own career. I daydream about a future in a different place with a family of my own. I want to take kids to karate lessons and dance practices. I want to be the kind of woman a man could be proud of. I want to be vibrant and exuberant and affect people.
But the reality is, I'm stuck between the two. I want to jump out on my own, but I still get homesick from time to time and sleep with a stuffed dog. I want to just sit and marvel and explore absolutely everything around me, but I want a job to do too. I want to start my career, but the expenses of life scare me. I want to chase my ambitions and make the difference that I know I was born to make, but I'm scared.
I'm somewhere between a little girl and an adult. And it's terrifying.
Here's what I know, though.
Even when I have an apartment and a husband and two kids and a puppy, I will still have two amazing guys as brothers and a set of parents that will be there for me. Even when I have my own little princesses, I'll still be Daddy's little girl. Even when I come home from my job at school worn out and frustrated, I'll have the friends only a phone call away that I know will pick up and be able to share my concerns with. Even when I can finally navigate city traffic like a pro, I'll still know how to drive a combine. Even if I never come back to Maryville after I leave here, I'll know that I'll still be connected to the church here.
I don't know if anyone ever truly feels like they're ready to be grown-up. Everyone, I think, has a piece of their childhood that they never want to let go of. For me, I think it's just the freedom to imagine. To dream and marvel and pretend.
And I think God's okay with that. He loved me as a little girl, and He'll love me as an adult, and He loves me in this in-between time too. But I think He doesn't want me to ever stop being awed. I think He wants to wow His girl with something new every single day. I think He wants me to explore His love and His mission for me and all of that. I think He's fine-tuned an adventure just for me.
So maybe I don't know which column I fit into right now - kid or adult. And maybe I never will. And maybe that's okay. It's okay to be homesick. It's okay to be scared. It's okay to want to be done with school and just go. It's okay to wish for the future. It's okay to miss the past.
I don't know where I was going with this. But I know where I've wound up. With reassurance that God has helped me grow up this far, and He's not done with me yet.
Phew.
I didn't know how much I needed to be told that again.
"When I became a man, I put away childish things, such as fear of childishness and a desire to be very grown-up." - C.S. Lewis
But I have not yet been to college
This made me laugh like you can't even imagine. This is Hugh Gallagher's essay from his NYU college admission application.
Also, this has been a separate page for a while, but I don' t think it needs to be. I still want to keep it somewhere on this blog, though, so although this will now be my second "copy and paste" post in a row, do excuse me.
3A. ESSAY: IN ORDER FOR THE ADMISSIONS STAFF OF OUR COLLEGE TO GET TO KNOW YOU, THE APPLICANT, BETTER, WE ASK THAT YOU ANSWER THE FOLLOWING QUESTION: ARE THERE ANY SIGNIFICANT EXPERIENCES YOU HAVE HAD, OR ACCOMPLISHMENTS YOU HAVE REALIZED, THAT HAVE HELPED TO DEFINE YOU AS A PERSON?
I am a dynamic figure, often seen scaling walls and crushing ice. I have been known to remodel train stations on my lunch breaks, making them more efficient in the area of heat retention. I translate ethnic slurs for Cuban refugees, I write award-winning operas, I manage time efficiently. Occasionally, I tread water for three days in a row.
I woo women with my sensuous and godlike trombone playing, I can pilot bicycles up severe inclines with unflagging speed, and I cook Thirty-Minute Brownies in twenty minutes. I am an expert in stucco, a veteran in love, and an outlaw in Peru.
Using only a hoe and a large glass of water, I once single-handedly defended a small village in the Amazon Basin from a horde of ferocious army ants. I play bluegrass cello, I was scouted by the Mets, I am the subject of numerous documentaries. When I'm bored, I build large suspension bridges in my yard. I enjoy urban hang gliding. On Wednesdays, after school, I repair electrical appliances free of charge.
I am an abstract artist, a concrete analyst, and a ruthless bookie. Critics worldwideswoon over my original line of corduroy evening wear. I don't perspire. I am a private citizen, yet I receive fan mail. I have been caller number nine and have won the weekend passes. Last summer I toured New Jersey with a traveling centrifugal-force demonstration. I bat 400. My deft floral arrangements have earned me fame in international botany circles. Children trust me.
I can hurl tennis rackets at small moving objects with deadly accuracy. I once read Paradise Lost, Moby Dick, and David Copperfield in one day and still had time to refurbish an entire dining room that evening. I know the exact location of every food item in the supermarket. I have performed several covert operations for the CIA. I sleep once a week; when I do sleep, I sleep in a chair. While on vacation in Canada, I successfully negotiated with a group of terrorists who had seized a small bakery. The laws of physics do not apply to me.
I balance, I weave, I dodge, I frolic, and my bills are all paid. On weekends, to let off steam, I participate in full-contact origami. Years ago I discovered the meaning of life but forgot to write it down. I have made extraordinary four course meals using only a mouli and a toaster oven. I breed prizewinning clams. I have won bullfights in San Juan, cliff-diving competitions in Sri Lanka, and spelling bees at the Kremlin. I have played Hamlet, I have performed open-heart surgery, and I have spoken with Elvis.
But I have not yet gone to college.
Also, this has been a separate page for a while, but I don' t think it needs to be. I still want to keep it somewhere on this blog, though, so although this will now be my second "copy and paste" post in a row, do excuse me.
3A. ESSAY: IN ORDER FOR THE ADMISSIONS STAFF OF OUR COLLEGE TO GET TO KNOW YOU, THE APPLICANT, BETTER, WE ASK THAT YOU ANSWER THE FOLLOWING QUESTION: ARE THERE ANY SIGNIFICANT EXPERIENCES YOU HAVE HAD, OR ACCOMPLISHMENTS YOU HAVE REALIZED, THAT HAVE HELPED TO DEFINE YOU AS A PERSON?
I am a dynamic figure, often seen scaling walls and crushing ice. I have been known to remodel train stations on my lunch breaks, making them more efficient in the area of heat retention. I translate ethnic slurs for Cuban refugees, I write award-winning operas, I manage time efficiently. Occasionally, I tread water for three days in a row.
I woo women with my sensuous and godlike trombone playing, I can pilot bicycles up severe inclines with unflagging speed, and I cook Thirty-Minute Brownies in twenty minutes. I am an expert in stucco, a veteran in love, and an outlaw in Peru.
Using only a hoe and a large glass of water, I once single-handedly defended a small village in the Amazon Basin from a horde of ferocious army ants. I play bluegrass cello, I was scouted by the Mets, I am the subject of numerous documentaries. When I'm bored, I build large suspension bridges in my yard. I enjoy urban hang gliding. On Wednesdays, after school, I repair electrical appliances free of charge.
I am an abstract artist, a concrete analyst, and a ruthless bookie. Critics worldwideswoon over my original line of corduroy evening wear. I don't perspire. I am a private citizen, yet I receive fan mail. I have been caller number nine and have won the weekend passes. Last summer I toured New Jersey with a traveling centrifugal-force demonstration. I bat 400. My deft floral arrangements have earned me fame in international botany circles. Children trust me.
I can hurl tennis rackets at small moving objects with deadly accuracy. I once read Paradise Lost, Moby Dick, and David Copperfield in one day and still had time to refurbish an entire dining room that evening. I know the exact location of every food item in the supermarket. I have performed several covert operations for the CIA. I sleep once a week; when I do sleep, I sleep in a chair. While on vacation in Canada, I successfully negotiated with a group of terrorists who had seized a small bakery. The laws of physics do not apply to me.
I balance, I weave, I dodge, I frolic, and my bills are all paid. On weekends, to let off steam, I participate in full-contact origami. Years ago I discovered the meaning of life but forgot to write it down. I have made extraordinary four course meals using only a mouli and a toaster oven. I breed prizewinning clams. I have won bullfights in San Juan, cliff-diving competitions in Sri Lanka, and spelling bees at the Kremlin. I have played Hamlet, I have performed open-heart surgery, and I have spoken with Elvis.
But I have not yet gone to college.
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