The Long Lost Entry

The following was written on the plane, en route to Los Angeles. Having no wi-fi, I forgot to post it, until just now, three weeks later.

I’m currently flying over the mid-west, the dry prairies below us. But beneath me is a vast supply of water. In my airplane seat that is. Sit tight, more on that in a moment. Today, like most days, is chock full of more “mis-adventures”. From trying to check in at American Airlines (we were flying United) to walking all the way to the opposite end of the terminal looking for the right gate (I really should start reading signs), I’ve come to realize I am terribly inefficient. My heart is in it and I try to be somewhat organized, but things never really get executed very well. In my defense, everything always works out.

Last night the issues all began. Around 4pm (when the banks close at 5) I realized that I seemed to have lost my debit card. Yes, this is the second time in about a month. I rushed over the bank, took out a massive lump of cash, and hoped it would show up. I started packing around 6pm after Dr D. had arrived and I realized my credit card and U- ID were also M.I.A. Of course my friends seem to be uber organized, which only makes me look like one giant hot mess all the time, but this doesn’t seem to stop my frantic ways. I tore apart every purse, bag, and wrislet I own, dumping piles of receipts, gift cards and coins on the floor. To top it off, I went to plug in my cell phone, which had died from the battery being drained, and the stupid device wouldn’t turn on. I tried 5 outlets, 2 chargers, and taking the battery out a few times. Nothing. Just my luck. I figured I’d be stuck in the middle of the Mojave desert with no money or way to call for help. Fun times...if I had a death wish. I ran some back up plans in my head. Lots of them. Worst case scenarios, alternate ways to contact people. I paced. I took deep breaths. Finally, after an hour or so, the credit card and ID showed up (Thanks Mom and Dr. D). The phone miraculously came back to life with a 66% charged battery to top it off. We were going to survive the great Mojave after all.

These business trips really make me wonder what image I portray to the rest of the world. My friends always think I am so organized, so efficient and so together. False. I’m a whirlwind of accidents, trips, falls, and spills. My name is certainly not Grace and eloquence is not my forte. This terrifies me for the most part – I used to be organized! I was probably the only 9^th grader who’d rather stay home on a Friday night cleaning my closet and color coding everything than go out with friends. I was probably the only 6^th grader who asked for a label machine for Christmas. I didn’t get it… so I asked again the following year. Maybe I’d be more put together if a little Brother Labelmate had showed up under the tree. I can’t even pinpoint when it all began to change (though I suspect April 2010, when I believed my life to be ending). People used to make fun of me for being anal, constantly telling me to loosen up and live a little. I guess I took it to the extreme. Maybe one day I’ll find the perfect balance. On a similar note, I used to think that I wanted to be a strong, independent woman. One who could care for her self and never needed a man. Frankly, I’m beginning to think I should reconsider. Instead of a husband, I think I need a nanny, at least a personal assistant. I’m hesitant to say I want a man to take care of me, but I suppose a little backup help, a teammate in life, wouldn’t be the worst idea. My next life goal will be to find someone for this. If were organized enough, I'd draft a job description and interview questionnaire!

So this morning we woke up, and I had some packing to do still. I randomly decided it was essential to shower (it was, believe me), even though it wasn’t really in the time schedule. (See I'm organized enough to have a schedule with built in wiggle room!) So we left about 15 minutes late, but got to the airport with well over an 90 minutes to spare. Success, I’d say. Upon getting to the airport, I ended up checking in at the wrong airline, then couldn’t find the right airline, and messed up which baggage scanner to go through – all within the first 10 minutes. I had warned Dr. D earlier of this and told her all the issues A had to roll with in San Fran last year. I anticipate this trip will be an eye opening experience for her. That’s for sure.

Our layover in DC was a relatively short one, though silly me forgot to read the terminal signs and we ended up walking a long ways out of the way. I guess there are signs for a reason. On the upside, we ran into a kid Dr. D went to undergrad/med school with. I’ve met him on multiple occasions, so it was a happy little reunion in the middle of the country. In all my travels, I’ve never run into anyone I’ve known at airports. It could be that I am just not very observant. On our way to the gate though, I am pretty certain I saw one of the guys from the TV show “The Fabulous Beekman Boys”. It’s not a big show, so he didn’t have much fanfare, but it sure did look like him!

So currently, I am on the plane. Four hours to go . A little while ago, the flight attendant came by with drinks. I got a diet coke, of course, and a cup of ice water. She placed the napkin on my tray and the air currant from the air conditioning blew it away down the aisle. The woman gave me a second napkin, which as soon as she turned away, blew away again. I was too embarrassed to pick them up, so I let the float around the aisle. Of course, as soon as I took my first sip of water, I spilled a bit down my shirt. No napkin to clean it up, so I just sucked it up. An hour later or so, I went to finish my water and spilled about 1/3 of the cup down my pant legs. Ice cold water. It was awakening, that’s for sure. I had no choice but to reach out for my long lost napkins to dry myself off. Satisfied with my efforts and laughing at my foolishness, I went to open my laptop to write this blog. But as I pulled down my tray table, the cup knocked over again, spilling the rest of the water and all of the ice all over me, my laptop bag, my shoes, my blanket, and the floor. Restrained in my tiny seat and unable to jump up and dry off, my first reaction was just to throw all of the ice on the floor. But now, the ice sits below me, slowly melting all over my flip flops, freezing my perfectly painted little pink toes (they are quiet beautiful).

Besides the water, the flight is uneventful. I have nothing better to watch than the awkward twenty- somethings cuddle across the aisle from me, who have nothing better to do than nuzzle and make out. Get a room, this is a plane. Your 300 newest friends have no desired to listen to smooch noises. Ick. If not for the canoodling, I'd have thought he was gay and she was his personal assistant, simply by the way they are dressed. Clearly my storyline in the "who do you think these people are" game was inaccurate. Though, she did spend approximately an hour filing his fingernails while he sipped his drink and watched a movie....not your usual straight guy behavior, but this recycled oxygen does funny things to people!

X.Y.Z.

Today was another in-state college fair; the first of three I have in the next 36 hours. Of course, this excites me still to have the home court advantage and I was really impressed that U- was given an entire table by itself in the very front of the room, facing all of the other schools. The counselor in charge told me she wanted to allow for crowds 8 people deep at my table. No pressure.

The turn out was strong and we had plenty of people stop by, including a couple alumni (Love those almuni - I cant wait to go to the U- table at my kids' college fairs!). It wasn't until after the fair was over and I was walking to the parking lot with all the other admissions reps that I noticed that my fly was down. For three hours. Great day to be wearing bright red underwear with black pants and a black shirt. And to think I was worried that my outfit had no pop of color, Apparently, there was plenty. Go figure.

I'd like a $20 sandwich, please.

My trip to Los Angeles is just a few days away and the first leg of the trip brings us to Las Vegas. I've done my research - four travel books and plenty of website browsing. I thought I knew just about everything, until a friend suggested the $20 Sandwich.

This is no turkey on wheat, here. After some VERY skeptical research, I learned that the "$20 Sandwich" is a secret (though commonly used) maneuver to get a better room in Las Vegas. Upon checking in, the host will ask the guest for their license and credit card. Between the two you slip a folded up $20 bill and moments later ask "are there any complimentary upgrades available". One site I visited had user reviews by hotel. Turns out, our hotel is pretty famous for comp-ing some pretty fabulous suites. Of the 142 reviews on the site, 86% of people at our hotel got an upgrade. More than half got the penthouse or king executive suite with the jacuzzi tub and balcony. We are staying in the cheapest room possible for $89, so lets see what a little $20 might do for us.

With such a successful track record at the hotel, I'm down to try it. You gotta gamble in Vegas, right?

Viva Las Vegas!

Home Court Advantage

This evening was my first fair of the season. I'd call it a great success and it feels great to be back in business!! For the past few weeks, my fellow roadrunners and I have been attending student for a day programs for admitted students. They always start out with a little presentation about campus, just the facts and figures, but we roadrunners/readers don't really get to talk. Every time we leave, we always say how much we miss giving the presentations. It's weird to see someone else give your speech (well, some differences of course) but the students who do it, do a great job. Going to these little presentations was a good segway back into the admissions representative world. After giving the presentation about one hundred times (for real), you would think you'd have it etched into your memory forever. Turns out, you don't! Before tonight's fair I had to go back and look at my old outline - check up on some of the stats and facts. Don't want to look ill prepared! It's crazy how quick you can forget retention rates and such when you aren't saying them every 30 minutes.

I'll confess I was super excited about tonight's fair. Not just to be back in my element (let's face it, I'm not nearly as passionate about the reading, nor am I good at actual reading - should have read more as a kid I guess), but I'm excited to be in our home state. Almost all of my fairs last Fall were far away and students tend to have more interest in their home state school than some allegedly-similar-out-of-state-school-for-more-money. In Texas, everyone wanted to go to UT. In North Carolina, all I heard about was UNC and NC State. Florida kids didn't even want to go out of state. Typically, at a big fair, the home state school has a big table, maybe even 2 or 3 to accommodate space for all the interested students and parents. I certainly got a lot of interest for U- almost everywhere I went, but I dreamed for the attention of the locals. Tonight was finally my shot!

The fair tonight was about an hour from my house. Round trip, it was 87.4 miles or something like that. I had to calculate mileage earlier in the day to be comp-ed for gas, that's the only reason I knew. Here's where the story gets fun.... So I'm running "late", and by late, I mean I'd still be an hour early for the fair even with traffic, but I wanted to make sure I was good and early, just in case. As I got into the car in my driveway, I realized my gas light was on....and had been on for 17 miles. Whenever my light goes on, I always reset the trip because, as a total nerd who lives on the wild side, I've calculated that my little Focus will go 44 miles once the light goes on. Now, my car isn't fancy. It doesn't calculate things on it's own. It doesn't flash or ding as I progressively get closer and closer to death. Face it, it would pretty much just let me die in the dessert without much warning. So the simple solution here is obviously stop for gas. Duh. So I went to the gas station and took out my wallet. Cue the tense, anxiety building music.

Back story (this would be the black and white flash back in my sitcom) - last week I lost my debit card. I ordered a new one, but it hadn't arrived in the mail yet. Because of this, I had taken out one giant lump of cash and had been carrying it around with me. Maybe not smart. When I opened up my wallet at the tank, I found a whopping $10. Apparently, I am not very budget conscious and should look more into that later, but more relevant back story - at this point, I haven't eaten dinner. And not knowing if the evening fair would have dinner, I had to eat something before showing up (my friends will vouch that hungry me = cranky, terribly unpleasant me). Doing some quick calculations, I figured $3.18 for Mickey D's Dollar Menu and the remaining $7 would be for gas. Now, math was never my forte, but I did some more mental multiplication. With gas at almost $4 a gallon, $7 wasn't going to get me more than 2 gallons. Focus gets 22 mpg, so thats only 44 miles. Not going to make it home. Frantically, I dug around the mess in my car and scrounged up $3 more dollars. Thank you cup holders and secret compartments. I now had $10 for gas (appx. 3 gallons or 66 miles). I knew my math was rough (good thing we learned "guesstimates" in 3rd grade...I hated those...Why only guess when you could do the real math and know?! ....Apparently, now was the time you should be a solid guesser, especially as time was getting later and later.) I looked in my purse, which I had recently cleaned out and realized that my "emergency credit card" wasn't there. Nope. I had nothing but a huge stack of receipts and a license. Perhaps a couple dimes. I wasn't sure how this was all going to work, but I was willing to chance it. I was running late and getting there mattered more than getting back. Honestly, the first thought in my head as I began pumping gas was "Well! This will be great for the blog!!" and I chuckled out loud. Fortunately, I was on the phone with A who very very kindly offered to come pick me up if my car died, even though the ride to me would be way out of the way, especially on a busy schedule. It pays to have friends who love you! (thanks!!)

I made it to the fair with 40 minutes to spare, so I sat in the car and played a lot of Scrabble on my phone. Then I got in, set up the table, and got to work. This particular fair was quite small - only 20 colleges or so represented, many of which were in-state. The town had invited both of it's high schools and all of its 7th & 8th graders too, hoping someone would show up. A lot of college reps dislike the little kids. They aren't applying for a long time, so there's no money to be made off of them. They take all your promotional items and they don't have any good questions to ask except "Are the dorms cool?!!!!?". Personally, I love the kids. I figure, talk to kids about college when they are younger and get them thinking/planning for it early. I suppose it goes along with my "everyone needs an education" philosophy, but hey, what about brand loyalty?! The cigarette and beer companies do it. Why can't colleges?? Little 13 year old talks to a super awesome rep who makes the school seem like the Disneyland of Education and they go home to tell their parents that's where they want to go. Years later, the school is still in their head and maybe they'll apply! Worth a shot. Tonight's kids didn't have any good questions. I was a a little disappointed.....but I gave them my very best shot. It's hard to explain what a school offers when a kid doesn't even know what "courses" or "majors" are. I spent a lot of time explaining those two too. But of course, my booth was hopping all night long. I was in my glory. The out-of-state public school next to me and the small in-state private on the other side were complaining about low attendance. I was thinking my mouth was getting dry from all the talking. Surprisingly, the in-state kids had some different questions than those I encountered last year. Perhaps because they knew more about the school, or at least they thought they did. Either way, they kept me on my toes and a good time was had by all.

Admit it. It's always good to be on the winning team.

PS: I almost forgot... I made it home safely. It took days for me to realize this, but I forgot to calculate in that I already had just a little gas in my tank. That, plus my $10, was just enough. PHEW.

Travel Season - Part Deux

Let let travels begin (again)! I've gotta say, I've missed traveling a whole lot more than I ever expected to. It seems I've got the travel bug now (though I still have no desire to go anywhere outside of North America). Here's the line up for this season's journeys:

1. New Hampshire/Boston

2. More Boston

3. Los Angeles

4. Philly (....don't get me started)

5. Lots of local fairs sprinkled in

Definitely not as many trips, but there's less recruiting to be done and I've got quite the personal travel schedule of my own with four grad school interview weekends taking up the bulk of my time. I was supposed to head to North Carolina again (back to the Triangle!!), but I had to ditch the trip for some grad school work. North Carolina would have been way more fun, but I suppose I've got to plan for my future.

Also new this season - I won't be traveling alone much. Actually, only to 3 local high school fairs. The rest of the time I will be with 2-8ish colleagues and on my Los Angeles Trip, the fabulous Dr. D will be joining me (though not for the work portion, just some sight seeing like A did last semester in San Fran). Things are going to be really different - bunking up, car sharing, and being on someone else's schedule are all things I am not 100% sure about, but I'm taking the opportunity to roll with the punches and go with the flow. I have no desire to be the anal retentive one in charge like usual. I'm just going to enjoy the ride!

Wish me luck!

The Long Months

For the past few months, I've been reading application files. And let me tell you, there's a lot of them. I didn't blog about them, because frankly, the job isn't all that exciting, but I do enjoy reading the essays. Some make you laugh, some make you cry, some make your jaw drop - but on the whole, most make you yawn. Here's some of the topics I've gotten to read about, A LOT:

• Deceased family members - parents (those are the hardest to read, and sadly, there's a lot), grandparents, siblings (also really hard), best friends, and some pets as well
• On a similar note, sick family members. Lots of cancer and a smattering of weird diseases I've never even heard of. I end up reading a lot of Wikipedia articles and Google imaging things - I wouldn't recommend the latter; we find some gross pictures.
• Vacations that changed their world - who knew a family vacation to a villa in the Italian countryside or a posh resort in Caribbean could change someone's whole entire existence so much?! To give them credit, there are a lot of decent vacation stories, lots of service trips too!
• Way, way, way too many Eagle Scout essays. Just about every kid who wants to be an Engineer was an Eagle Scout - or ran cross country, often both! Only one applicant wrote about how much he hated Eagle Scouts. I give him credit for being honest and for keeping me awake. Kudos.
• Interestingly, I've read more essays on Catcher in the Rye than any other book. Kids love Holden Caulfield for some reason. Personally, I hated it. I think I read the sparknotes. And I'd like to sparknote their admission essay.
• The worst are when people just submit some random paper they had to write for a class. I don't care about some random book you read, or some silly research you did on WWII. It doesn't say much about you, and after all, you are the one trying to get into college, not Hitler.

Those are probably the most used topics for an essay. Every once in a while though, one comes along, out of the blue, and it gets you thinking. I really like looking at the GIANT stack of files on my desk and believing that one of these manila folders is going to contain the next great story. Here's some of the more interesting ones:

• One student from Africa who watched both his parents get murdered and then was abducted into slavery and injected with heroin. The kids become addicted and become dependent, therefore, don't run away. This kid, somehow, ended up in the US, and is all well. God bless him, that's about all I can say!
• One girl made a list of the 25 things you wouldn't learn about her by looking at her Facebook. I gave her points for creativity.
• One male student was sexually assaulted by another male on his athletic team. The coach, principal, and his parents wouldn't believe him - causing him to slip into a deep depression.
• One kid had no father figure so he joined a gang and got into some bad stuff. Scary.
• Sadly, more than a couple of students wrote about their parents beating the pulp out of them. Those always break my heart. One kid was locked in a closet by his step dad and forced to urinate all over himself. Makes me cringe.

My all time favorite though - Drum roll please?! This one young lady who wrote her essay about losing her virginity. It was quite graphic, a little vulgar, and had way too many details. She thought she got pregnant. But "by the grace of God", she found her way to the Plan B website and everything was all set.....T.M.I?!? This is your admission essay!!

A close second goes to the young man who wrote about his relationship with his very large athletic cup, or "Cupsie" as he calls it. At first we thought he was bragging about how large everything was - until he described it as a "large umbrella covering a small ant". Word for word, people. You can't make this stuff up. What ever happened to making yourself look good in your essay? I didn't have the pleasure of finding this essay, but the whole office read it...at least once.

I'd say in the past 4 months, I've read over well over 2,000 essays (wow, that seems really high - I did the math 4 times though, promise!). Some are really long, I think I had a 6 page one (and no, I didn't read the whole thing) and some are just a tad more than a paragraph. Some are very carefully written and others look like the person scribbled it right into the box on the form, never letting another person proof-read it or hear it. Please, take more than 3 minutes to write your essay...

It breaks my heart to deny applicants though - even the kids with D's and F's or terrible SAT scores. I've cried, I'll admit it. I've fought for students, searching for any loophole I could. More times than I'd like to admit to, I've apologized aloud to the file in front of me belonging to a student who didn't get admitted. As if the student could hear me or it makes less of the enemy in their eyes. (I have also congratulated files and spent a moment daydreaming up the next scenario - the kids gets their letter, yells, tears of joy, runs to their parent, talks about it at dinner, puts it on Facebook...ya know, the usual) I often joke to my friends and colleagues that if I could, I'd open my very own university, just of kids who need someone to give them a chance. It would be chock full of sob stories, low incomes, and first generation college students. Ones with disabilities and rough childhoods, abuse, eating disorders, and death, but all of them would be students who want nothing else but to learn and grow. At U-, I wish we could just take people based on their heart and their character. How much can a standardized test actually tell you. Doesn't how badly you want it and how hard you are willing to work to get it count?

Maybe it's because I am a first generation student who had parents who pushed me daily to score higher and study harder to make more of myself than they had. For that, I am eternally grateful. Getting me to do math homework before playing outside was a battle somedays, and not every first generation kid is so lucky to have that undying support. Or maybe I'm just a gullible sap or a middle-class white girl with too much privilege and guilt for my own good. I just want everyone to have a chance. In putting down those "deny" files, I have to remind myself, these kids will go else where. They want college and someone, somewhere else will want them. They'll be okay. And so I move on.

If nothing else, I've learned a bit, improved my vocabulary (it makes you feel really stupid when you have to look up words in the dictionary), and overall, gained some faith in humanity and our future. An impressive amount of students do community service and Best Buddies seems to be a popular organization to join. Quite a few young feminists and people actively fighting for equal rights of every gender, race, and sexuality. More students than I expected seem to be breaking stereotypes - chess club and football captain? Cheerleader and founder of SADD? Awesome, just awsome. Maybe I watch too much TV or am jaded by some morons I've met along the way, but reading these essays gives me some hope for our society.

Best wishes, applicants.

Someone's rooting for you on the inside of the brick fortress, don't worry.