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Post by Loogs on Sept 2, 2010 11:08:02 GMT -5
Wait no I lied my GPA is actually like 2.5 unweighted or something as disgusting. I pretty much kissed my hopes for Vassar goodbye now. ;-;
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Post by The Evil Biscuit on Sept 2, 2010 13:33:11 GMT -5
Nothing at Vassar but queers and Quidditch.
Eh?
Eh?!?
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Post by Loogs on Sept 2, 2010 14:35:51 GMT -5
butbutbut i'm a queer and the quidditch actually looked kinda fun
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Post by Beelzebibble on Sept 2, 2010 15:20:30 GMT -5
Nothing at Vassar but queers and Quidditch. Eh? Eh?!? Actually, the gay population at Vassar is hardly much higher than any other liberal arts college, it's just very visible and celebrated. The majority of dudes and chicks are straight. That's the gentle, patient answer. The brusque answer is screw you, redneck.
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Post by Loogs on Sept 2, 2010 15:24:50 GMT -5
Maybe Pohatu's a queer.
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Post by ch00beh on Sept 2, 2010 15:27:46 GMT -5
Dude start a Tower league at Vassar. I'd drop out of Tech and transfer.
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Post by Loogs on Sept 2, 2010 18:04:36 GMT -5
What the hell is a Tower league choobs D:
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Post by Loogs on Oct 6, 2010 20:44:02 GMT -5
Okay you guys so this is my college essay. it's a first draft so please offer constructive criticism. my admittance to college hinges on how well I wrote this thing D:
The prompt was name an experience you went through that has had an impact on your life. Obviously I have a lot of splainin' to do for my shitty GPA and attendance record. Here goes.
“How did I end up here?”
This is the question you keep ask yourself as you stare at your reflection in the grimy, filthy mirror. It was never this bad. You know it was never this bad. You weren’t supposed to end up in an apartment with a drug addict perpetually high off the fog of marijuana lingering in the air. You don’t belong here. This wasn’t where you were supposed to be.
It is the spring of your tenth year. You are young, bright, and full of ambition. Your fourth grade teacher tells you that you have a gift, an innate intelligence that will get you somewhere in life. It’s hard for you to make friends because of this, and you’re perceived as a bit of an uncool nerd, but that’s ok, because your mother tells you that all you need to do is focus on school and work on realizing your dreams.
It is the fall of your thirteenth year. You are packing your belongings in a large cardboard box. You have to finish up soon, because tomorrow you, your sister, and your mother start a new life in Florida. It is an exciting experience for you, because for thirteen years all you have known is New Jersey, and the people that live there. Your dad can’t come, but that’s ok, because you know he’s coming down soon to be with you once he finds a permanent job there.
It is the summer of your fifteenth year. You find yourself staring into an empty cardboard box once again, organizing your belongings inside. Soon you will be in North Carolina living with your uncle. Your father never came down to live with you, and your parents ultimately could not pay the mortgage on your house. Ruefully, you finish taping up the box, a little disappointed that you have to leave behind your new friends right after your freshman year, but that’s ok, because you’ll just make more friends again.
It is the spring of your sixteenth year. You’ve adjusted to living in Greensboro, but by now you’re a little worn down by your turbulent life. You notice that your mother and father have arguments over the phone more frequently, and you overhear more and more conversations about the “money getting tighter”. Some of that frustration gets taken out on you. You try to find ways to cope with it, like staying out with your friends late at night. Your grades start to slip, but that’s ok, because you’re intelligent and you know you’ll find a way to survive this year.
It is the winter of your sixteenth year. You’re lying on a bed in a psychiatric ward. You had threatened suicide the day before and the police brought you here for your own safety. Back at school, your grades have completely dropped, and your attendance record is abysmal. You don’t care, because all you want to do was crawl under your covers all day and cry. There’s no reason to open that bedroom door and face the world. There’s nothing outside there for you. You can’t tell yourself that it’s ok anymore, because it’s not.
It is the fall of your seventeenth year. This is it. You’ve hit rock bottom. Dazed, you stare back at your haggard expression in the mirror, a little inebriated by the marijuana smoke in the living room. You’ve dropped out of school, and fed up with the constant moving from place to place and your mother’s emotional disownment, left to go live with a drug addict friend of yours. You’ve lost weight because he spends all his money on drugs and can’t bother with getting you some food. You’re choking on the tight lump that has formed in your throat. Finally, you can’t hold back the tears, and you cry profusely in front of your reflection.
This story could end here. You would eventually fade away into obscurity, and die young on the streets a transient junkie. Everyone would feel sorry for you. They wouldn’t blame you, considering what you went through. But a small voice inside you finally speaks up. It’s wanted to tell you something for some time now. You wipe away your tears, and ask yourself one more question:
“Are you going to be the statistic or are you going to be the example?”
It is now the spring of your eighteenth year. You had to repeat junior year, and at another school. Compared to where you were half a year before, you’re doing much better. You and your mother are trying hard to mend your relationship, but you still have a long way to go. You’re taking it easy this year, and you’re doing better but you still aren’t quite satisfied with your grades or your attendance, but that’s ok, because this is your recovery period, and it’s a long way up from the bottom. Nothing comes easy, and you’ve learned that the hard way.
It is the fall of your eighteenth year. Senior year. You made it. You’re almost done. As you stare at the screen of your laptop typing up your essay for college, you take a moment to look back on this day exactly one year ago. You’re certainly not the person you used to be, and for that, you are grateful. The person in this body is much stronger, much more prepared to face life and its obstacles. She stands up straighter and always looks straight ahead. After all, you’ve been through worse. Every step of the way you’ve had to fight. You fought on the way down and on the way back up. Your courses are much more difficult than they were last year, but that’s ok, because you know how bad you want to be able to attend college next year, and if you want something that bad, you have to fight for it. Blood, sweat, tears; tooth, claw, and nail. Never settle for anything less than that.
It is 9:33 PM, on October the sixth of the year two thousand and ten. You’re about done writing this essay. You’ve lost many battles, but in the end you’ll win the war. And for once in your life, that’s much more than okay. That’s pretty damn remarkable.
gdi it is so hard to write something really awesome in two double-spaced pages, and this was two and a half. this essay is so ass i know it ._.
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Post by ch00beh on Oct 7, 2010 3:15:25 GMT -5
dope
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Post by Loogs on Oct 7, 2010 9:36:52 GMT -5
that isn't constructive at all D:<
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Post by ch00beh on Oct 7, 2010 10:07:17 GMT -5
i liked it.
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Post by Loogs on Nov 3, 2010 19:26:03 GMT -5
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Post by Loogs on Apr 30, 2012 11:16:25 GMT -5
HEY GUESS WHAT EVERYBODY I GOT ACCEPTED INTO MCAD
now i am a Real College Student and no longer a useless sack of crap
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Post by Beelzebibble on Apr 30, 2012 11:54:17 GMT -5
Cool! Congratulations.
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Post by ch00beh on Apr 30, 2012 13:53:12 GMT -5
:up:
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Post by Ninety on Apr 30, 2012 18:09:28 GMT -5
what's mcad
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Post by Loogs on Apr 30, 2012 18:39:17 GMT -5
Minneapolis College of Art and Design
i'm gonna be rly cold over there
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Post by Krazy Glue on May 1, 2012 3:41:11 GMT -5
Congratulamafacations. I say celebration drinks!
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