Today I was in the MOA (Museum of Art) checking out the Carl Bloch exhibit when I got a phone call from my roommate saying that I had received a letter in the mail from the BYU graduate department.
I freaked.
I ran out of there so fast I left my backpack in the coat check room for over an hour before I remembered it.
I ran down the long path from the museum to the front of the WILK where I was meeting my roommate. As if by magic (I did use accio family members), my brother and his fiance Laura were standing right where I had planned to meet Jessica Marshall.
I was incredibly nervous.
I didn't want anyone to watch me open it.
(I am now going to employ a tactic I have come to know well as an english major. Ladies and Gentlemen...the cliffhanger.)
I have been thinking lately about the kind of girl I am, who I want to be.
I sometimes wonder if all writers are as overly-sentimental in their thoughts as I am, or if that is just part of...the kind of girl I am.
Either way, here is what I have come up with:
I'm the kind of girl who loves sleep, but isn't lazy. I hate getting out of bed in the morning, but I'm never grouchy once I do.
I'm the kind of girl who attempted to stay awake through a migraine, a high fever, and an overdose of sleep medication on Saturday because Space Jam came on TV.
I'm the kind of girl who, instead of vacuuming my car, will get an oil change so that jiffy lube will do it for me.
I'm the kind of girl who has carted a cracked computer through six countries and nearly four semesters because getting another one would involve admitting that I know as much about computers as Brandon Davies knows about not getting kicked off the #3 team in the nation.
I'm the kind of girl who went to physical science three times the entire semester because it came before 10 a.m. and somehow passed with a decent B-.
I'm the kind of girl who doesn't pronounce syllables on the end of my words (mornin') unless someone asks me to try and sound black/gangster, in which case I don't miss a syllable because I'm such a little white girl. (FI-ft-EE Cent)
I'm the kind of girl who always wishes I was the kind of girl who wasn't such a little white girl. (I've spent a lot of time thinking about this lately. I think my main give-away is my inability to produce a decent body roll on the dance floor.)
I'm the kind of girl who knows exactly what I want from life. (If we are, by chance, discussing boys, please believe the opposite.)
I'm the kind of girl who has a religion.
I'm the kind of girl who loves to read and write, but realizes how out of place she sometimes is when she hears her creative writing professor ask if "anyone has heard of the new thing called Fantasy Football?"
I'm the kind of girl who eats six meals a day, all after four o'clock.
I'm the kind of girl who spends Friday nights alone because I want to (right guys? right?), wears flowers in my hair, loses or breaks everything I own, loves my family, has a sports obession, lives and breathes for good music, and eats my vegetables.
And, as of today, I am the kind of girl who attends Brigham Young University as a graduate student.
I couldn't feel luckier.
The main comment I keep getting is people saying "Oh that's so great! You have a direction in your life now!" I guess I wasn't aware that I was supposed to feel so directionless before.
I haven't really been worried.
I'm usually not when it comes to the future.
(As opposed to my younger sister Rachel who would have a hard time deciding if she should invest in over-the-counter drugs during the tylenol scare of the 80's. Love you Rach.) Here's a secret for you: I only applied to one school.
BOTH times I applied to college. (After high school and now)
Stupid? Probably.
But like I said, I just know what I want.
Boy was I relieved with this one though.
The idea of getting a real adult job was giving me the heebie-jeebies.
School 4 Life.
Love,
Katie
ha, i was reading this in class and got some cool looks for all my snickering (mostly at your passion for space jam.) but to be honest, i'm not surprised you got accepted. i was always jealous of how well you write. i remember in eighth grade mrs shaheen read one of your essays to the class and for the next four years or so i used the opening of that essay to measure if my openings were any good whenever i wrote a paper. i don't remember what it was anymore, but it had something to do with the word cat. and slavery. i think. the point is, at this point i've stopped being jealous and i'm just glad you are still writing so i can still enjoy it. byu couldn't be luckier to be the only school you applied to (seriously katie...?)
ReplyDeleteHi,
ReplyDeleteI have a question about your site, would you mind emailing me back @ kthomas@primroseschools.com?
Thanks,
Kathleen