It’s Tortilla Time

I sit here at my computer screen, filling out university applications and realizing that this is a decision that will impact the rest of my life.

I AM APPLYING FOR UNIVERSITY.

I cannot believe that I’m applying for university.

How is this possible?

I’m supposed to be in grade four. Not university. Definitely not university.

It all happened so fast.

AND NOW I AM MAKING DECISIONS THAT WILL AFFECT THE REST OF MY LIFE.

I’ve suddenly got cold feet. I need a mocha latte and some painkillers.

It is of significance to note that I’m still fairly ignorant to how universities work. When I went to U of T on Friday, my friend and I both thought that we’d be conscientious and arrive at our classes a few minutes early, to assure ourselves decent seats (toward the back, as to not give ourselves away). We stood outside of our classroom and, not wanting to be the first people entering, waited until a couple of other students first entered the class. I was quite shocked to see students arriving at their classes fifteen minutes early, but I assumed that that’s probably how it was in university. Arrive early or just don’t come.

My friend and I looked at each other, and both decided to enter the room. As we crept in, we noticed that the classroom was actually quite full, not what we had anticipated. People stared at us wide eyed as we discreetly tiptoed across the room. The class appeared to have already started.

The professor halted his lecture and, in front of the entire class, proceeded to ask us who the hell we were. I imagine we resembled the likeness of a deer in headlights, standing awkwardly in the middle of a university lecture. As everybody stared on. Intensely.

He asked us if we were in the right place, and we were certain that we were. I have never seen you guys before. Really? That’s odd. Did you write the midterm? Um, no. Not exactly. Well okay, take a seat I suppose. We were planning on it.

Turns out there was a class from 10:00 - 11:00 in the same room, and ‘our class’ went from 11:00 - 12:00. Instead of being conscientious and thoughtful, we were instead rude and disruptive.

I’ve never been so mortified in front of a herd of geeks.

I don’t have school tomorrow.

So how will I occupy my day off? Why, by going to university of course.

My friend’s sister goes to University of Toronto, and for some reason is unable to attend her classes tomorrow. My friend and I will go in her place and document the goings-on for her.

I’m bracing myself for some hardcore third-year computer engineering. After all, everyone knows how much I looooove science.

I attended the university fair downtown yesterday, and it was surprisingly interesting. I talked to just about every university at the fair, and it was fairly intriguing to envision my life at each school. It was like I was standing at a fork in the road, and I had to imagine what my life would be like at each potential path.

Cool, I tell ya.

Though I didn’t change my mind about my university of choice. The lady in charge of journalism at the fair said that she would accept my application if she had it right now, and she asked for my name. I feel slightly better about gaining acceptance.

Many schools seemed impressed that I had a portfolio of published works. Especially the two in east Jesus nowhere that wanted my presence especially bad. I was given emails from English professors, their full names, dates of open houses and literally thousands of phone numbers. I was told several times that schools would ‘look out for my application.’

Though not many places outside of the city seem at-all appealing to me.

I’ve been reading the booklets from each university all morning, and have narrowed it down to thirteen different programs that I am considering applying for.

I can’t wait for next year.

It feels so good to have a voice mail from a publisher at a dog magazine wondering if I can write a few articles for them. This is possibly better than eating cottage cheese at a dog park during spring.

My university portfolio is going to kick major ass.

All day I’ve been reviewing my plans for university. Sure, I know which university I wish to attend. Sure, I know which programs I am interested in taking. But there is more to it than that. So much more.

Today I vigorously flipped through a book that I stole borrowed permissibly from the guidance office. Said book contains an abundance of information on my university of choice. This school contains one of the most prestigious journalism programs in Canada, and because it is a smaller school, it can prove quite difficult to gain acceptance.

I have been scheming ways to get into this school, as if I’m not confident in my fluency in the English language. It seems that no matter how decent I am at a given subject, I never give myself due credit. So here I am, ceaselessly fretting about getting accepted into university, doubting my eloquence and ability to write, and planning like a fiend.

I have decided that instead of applying for three separate universities, I will apply for three different programs at my university of choice. My first option is, as my faithful readers are well aware, journalism. Gaining acceptance for journalism would make me happy as a clam. I will also apply for a bachelor of arts, radio and broadcasting, and perhaps social work. Time will tell.

Aside from my marks this year (which will be high, rest assured,) a separate portfolio containing samples of my writing is absolutely necessary. Several people have suggested submitting entries from this blog, but I find that concept rather inappropriate. This is more of a journal where I record my innermost thoughts and emotions, things that I do not necessarily wish to associate with school.

So given the immense importance of my portfolio (which weighs as much, if not more than, my marks,) I have decided to get articles published. Every month until the end of the school year, I will attempt to get at least one article published. I have to be proactive in order to accomplish anything in life, and this is of extreme importance. It is my future, after all.

If I get an article published I will receive an additional 10% in my writer’s craft course, which is also incentive. I have recently become involved in my school newspaper, and I have been completing homework upon its assignment.

I will have to be a nerd this year.