December 28, 2001 :: 3:34 a.m.
higher education has teeth
I am cold. I think I may die. I drove home from with no heat on, in my sandals and no socks, because I've got about three drops of gas left in my tank and I'm terrified of breaking down again. Although I suppose that running out of gas isn't really breaking down... it's sort of the result of laziness/neglect. I hate getting gas. But even if I didn't, I couldn't, because I don't have any money. The only form of currency I have are AMC theater gift certificates, which are nice, but I'm rather sure that it would do no good to shove them into my gas tank. Shucks.
I went over to Joe's to watch Freeway, finally. I was hilarious, in a disturbing sort of way. Reese Witherspoon is very convincing as an illiterate southern shoplifter/arsonist/prostitute/murderer. And on top of it all she manages to look cute in an orange prison uniform! Not that she really deserved to be in prison. If some creepy therapist threatened to slit my throat and then fuck my dead body, I'd be a little miffed too.
Before we watched the movie, we went to Borders - where I still do not have a job - for some chai. I looked through a bunch of career books, with job profiles and what suits your personality and all that. Sadly, I saw nothing that really interested me. Sure, a few things looked kind of cool, but nothing jumped off the page. That's what I'm waiting for, really - for something to just leap at me and declare, "Here I am! The career of your dreams! The direction that your life should take! Now come and get me, girl!" Unfortunately things like that don't happen in real life, and my fantasy land isn't solid enough to live in yet. Whatever shall I do with myself? That is the eternal mystery.
I was thinking about college and life and the future today. Again. Obviously. Must I really even state that anymore? I think it's become a bit of inherent fact. Anyway, I was thinking, and I basically came to the conclusion that there are two things I'm afraid of (future-wise): that I'll never get out of here, and that I will. When I think about staying I feel like a loser, but when I think about going I feel like a traitor. I'm afraid to act, but I'm equally afraid not to. Part of it is because of Adam... most of it, actually. When he was applying to colleges, distance was a factor. He ended up where he is partly because it's close to home; it's close to me. I don't say that to sound conceited or anything, like oooh, someone cares enough to consider me. It's just the truth. As much as I told him that it shouldn't be an issue, I knew that it would be, and I wanted it to be. So now I feel like the world's biggest hypocrite when I look at schools that are farther away. I ask myself if it's fair of me to want him to consider distance, and then disregard it myself... and the answer is definitely no, it's not fair at all. But I'm not disregarding it. It's at the front of my mind every minute; every time I get another brochure from this college or that university, the first thing I look at is the location.
I have three piles of college stuff: the Crap pile, the I Wish pile, and the Possible pile. The Crap pile is, of course, where I put all the information from places that I'd never consider going, no matter how close they are. The I Wish pile consists of schools I'd love to go to, but that are too far away. The Possible pile is where the feasible options go. By "feasible" I mean places within a reasonable distance. By "within a reasonable distance" I mean no more than two hours, and even that's pushing it. Now, there are a few problems with this system. Mainly that all the places I want to go are too far away, and so the Possible pile is really just a glorified Crap pile. I don't live in a very metropolitan area. There aren't bunches of wonderful schools nearby; there are maybe four. All of them are in the Possible pile, but they should be in the Crap pile because they either don't have what I want or I just don't like the place.
I'm very picky. I need to be certain of everything or I'll go mad worrying. Actually, I'm starting to think that going mad wouldn't be a bad idea. I'd get a nice padded cell and plenty of alone time.
I can't wait until this is over and I'm just admitted somewhere, because I'm getting rather sick of going on about it. I'd stop, but the subject has sort of glommed onto my skull and it won't let go. Pity.
back & forth
Wait, there's more!
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