(no subject)

[transomwhiplass]

Rice interview tomorrow.

I think I'm going to pee my PJ pants. I'm so incredibly nervous with just a wee bit of excitement.

This is the final step in my application process. Well, that's a lie, I still have a February ACT to take. But still, all of my chips are in.

I can cite 10 million reasons why Rice will be fantastic for me. The problem is making them think that I would be fantastic for them. I have to problems articulating my fabulousness in a joking and pompous manner but to humbly and graciously brag about myself without coming off like an asshole seems like a paradox. Graciously brag, that is a contradiction, right??

So far things to bring up are, here a little too infused with ego:

- My radical conversion of the newspaper from crap and brainless fodder to ingenious, insightful, and beautifully presented gold.
- The crowds of former Rice Archies think I'm the most awesome person they've ever met.
- Gosh darn it, people like me!
- I'm like, oh my goodness, so fantastic with computers. I taught myself photoshop, eat that sucka! I'd crack the whip at AutoCad.
- Only someone as awesome and environmentally aware as I would think of reusing old college mail to make kitschy, pointless art.
- I hung out with hippies and I survived! I didn't even do drugs or drink or anything! They taught me about life and how to properly hate George W. Bush.
- I brought my uncle's organization and website into the 21st century with my 1337 filing and HTML skills.
- I will paint your house and design you a new mansion. Hey, maybe even one for your dog! Out of college mail if you like!
- What if I wear a crazy hat?
- I play well with others but I can find the "M-E" in team if necessary.
- I so do not not suck. I can use a vacuum though.
- I will cook you dinner for a year. I will clean your house. Back rub? Foot massage?
- PUH-LLEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEASE. OHMIGAWD.......... PUH-LEAAAAAAAAAAAAAZEEEEEEEEEE?
- I'm a crazy pagan and if you reject me I will send my crazy made up gods on you if you don't let me in/love me.
- I have a fan club. I'm the president! How's that for credentials??

AAAAAAAGH. This went a tad crazy. I'm going to bed. Whatever your customs: pray for me, sacrifice a lamb, hang a horseshoe, cross your fingers, pin an acceptance letter to your voodoo doll of me, whatever. 11:30 tomorrow I meet fate head on, all I ask is that fate not tell me "I suck," especially not to my face. Watching "American Idol" has been horrible, I keep imagining the professor/admissions person saying that I'm "ghastly! absolutely atrocious! totally lacking imagination - the equivalent of an architectual sleeping pill.

He's the photographer's son.

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[telescope.livejournal.com]

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