HAPPY BURFDAY!

I'm five years old now, and I can beat you up!

First Taste of Rejection

Since it is college application season, my mailbox was once again crammed full with slick college catalogues and the like. But wading through the thick bundle of mail, I came across one envelope that I had been anticipating: Carleton College. In early September, I had applied to a Taste of Carleton program to visit, dine, and room at Carleton for 3 days entirely at their expense. Considering the program was entirely free, I decided to give it a shot and apply. This is their reply. I'll copy it in its entirely because first rejection letters are a milestone in life:

Dear Sarah:

We thank you for your interest in our Taste of Carleton event. Unfortunately, the response to this event was overwhelming and we regret to inform you that we have filled all of the spots available to us for the event. We know this is disappointing news and certainly not what you had hoped to hear.

There were many qualified and talented candidates like you from around the country who presented fine academic records and strong personal qualities. We'd like to strongly encourage you to visit Carleton on another date and utilize our multicultural flight subsidy which covers half the cost of an airline ticket up to $200. Please contact our office determine the best options for you visit.

We wish you the best this fall.

Sincerely,

The TOC Team

I sent in my application semi-late (on the last day of the deadline, but that was really because of school starting dates than my procrastination--for once), but this letter kind of ribbed me anyways. I know that based solely on academic record--or school transcript, as that was all they looked at--I should have gotten in. Of course, if the response really was overwhelming, then 50 people out of a large pool is a very small percentage, and those 50 people definitely were not among the last 50 people to turn it in. Mwwuah, I'm being long and windy and nonsensical.

But quite honestly, I would have never even looked at Carleton if not for this program. Middle-of-Nowhere, Minnesota was, and still is not a very attractive location. Positive spin: Now I know that I'm not applying to Carleton. Alright, 1 college crossed off, 17 to go.

Bad Education x Tres

Sometimes, I really believe there is something wrong with me. Like how I think school dances are inconceivably boring ,and I'd actually rather do my homework. That's harsh. Maybe there is something wrong.

Alas, no homework last night, and no dance either. Instead, watching badass flicks with the homies. I brought a whole stack of DVDs to Mary's house, and Sruthi, dear girl, immediately zeroed in on Bad Education. So Bad Education it was--come to think of it, a rather bad decision considering adults were home. Still, parental supervision was minimal and we were rather self-supervising anyways.

By this third time watching Bad Education, the shock and novelty of sex worn off. I could sit through without cringing, but it still surprised me. It was definitely more explicit than I remembered. Poor Olga, I'm afraid she's permanently scarred.

Bad Education was a rather polarizing film, especially along Almodovar's fans. Compared to his warm, gooey stories, Bad Education is coldly clinical, a disection of narrative structure and psychopathic cunning rather than the messy pathos that characterized his earlier melodramadies. It is masculine and distant--by god is it brilliant. The layered construction is so skillfully crafted in the editing and script. I agree that Bad Education is emotionally distant; it doesn't immerse you in the world so much as unfold like an elegant flower before your eyes. There's plenty to admire as an outsider. How amazing it would have been to figure how every twist as it hit. Damn you Internet spoiliers; I never go to do that.

Google is My Crack

That is all.

Academic Soup: Communism Upsets Renaissance Art, Falls to College Essay

By some dumb line-up of the schedule, I'm actually one night ahead on the Euro homework, and at least one month behind on the college stuff, but I digress. In my homework perusing, I read a Time article on Renaissance portraiture, which caused a profound sense of deja vu, especially upon the bit about prostitutes dying their hair blond with urine. (Such salacious details find comfortable niches in my brain.) Indeed, I had once read this article in a random Time from the library discard pile. I even have a vivid memory of the accompanying picture of Ginevra de Benci as painted by Leonardo da Vinci. No doubt the vivid memory is because this portrait was one of the select few represented in the Acadec Renaissance Art.

Speaking of Acadec, Chinese art is as boring as hell. If it isn't boring, the writers sure have made a fair attempt at making it so. The CD on the other hand, greatly amused me with the inclusion of Chinese pop songs. My dear mom made an attempt to educate me on all affairs Chinese, beginning with the personal affairs and wives of Mao. I know all about his affairs and nothingof his policies.

Nation Merit Scholarship essay is not being written. It is simply not happening. What a load of bull I have to write about myself. I feel like a lying, cheating braggart.

School atmosphere is buzzing with college talk and flu viruses. Both have a fair shot at the title of Biggest Stress Inducer.