Because one story just isnt enough

Because one story just isn’t enough In true everybody else is doing it, so why cant we?* fashion, Im posting my own tale of being admitted last year. Since this is the second year that EA acceptees were sent cardboard tubes, I thought my story would be fun to read. Be warned I may (read: will) overdramatize a good chunk of this, solely because I can. Three people from my school applied EA last year, and we were all insanely worried about our decisions. The day tubes made it to South Florida, Neha 10 (thats Mr. Neha to you and Jess) got hers during our Calc BC class her mom was home when the mail came, so she drove to school to give her the tube. Kris 10 and I were in the same class and left to think about how our fates were still unknown and great, Neha had gotten in! But what about the two of us? What was going on? WERE WE IN OR NOT? Needless to say, everything our teacher said about Taylor Series did not exactly register. But thats not the point here. (We were all accepted, by the way, and now the three of us are here.) Since I just tried to rewrite this story and did so poorly, Im essentially copying and pasting the post I made in my personal blog a year ago. Enjoy. So after an impossibly long bus ride, I dashed home to check the mailbox. My parents are in NYC at the moment (todays their anniversary theyve been gone a week), and my stepdad keeps the mailbox key on his keyring, so I was essentially screwed. I yanked at the box, hoping that it was by some divine miracle unlocked. No such luck. I ran into my house and searched all the counters and drawers for a key that might quite possibly open the mailbox. Not a thing. Some higher power hates me. I called my stepdad, who said, Dont worry about it, just calm down, well be home tomorrow and itll all be fine. And Im like, NO! You dont understand! Must have MIT decision NOW NOW NOW or else Ill die! He handed the phone over to my mom, because he didnt seem to know how to handle a neurotic college applicant waiting for a decision. (Come on, who can blame him?) She wasnt much better her words to me consisted of, Dont panic, when we get home you can get into the mailbox and see whats going on. Hey, were on 34th Street and were about to go to Chinatown, so well see you when we come back tomorrow, okay? Thank you, mother. Your words of reassurance make my life. I paced around the house, wondering what to do about the situation, and I saw only one way out: the crowbar. tell me, what kind of family doesnt own a crowbar?! Dont they understand that you can use it in desperate situations to break into things, like, you know, mailboxes?! So I was panicked and worried and stressed to the max, when I saw one microscopic shot at knowing my decision. I said to myself, Hey, self (give me some credit I didnt actually say that), what if I have a tube, and its just too big to fit into the mailbox? Dont they usually leave packages like that right by the front door? What if its there RIGHT NOW, and I didnt notice it? I ran to my front door, wrenched it open, and there, behind the potted plant that always obscures virtually everything around it was a two-foot-long tube. Yeah. I know. It was right by the front door, and of course I missed it when I walked in. Go ahead, laugh at me for overreacting and nearly resorting to brute force. I may have absolutely no common sense, but I GOT INTO MIT! I want to dance around for the rest of the day, I swear. You know, I think I will. Bring on the music. Decisions online? Pffft. This seems so much more fun. The heart-attack-inducing suspense! Come on! ^_^ One year later, it is the END OF TERM. Well, almost. Classes are over, and theyve only given way to studying for FINALS GAH. Its hard here, but definitely worth it. Coming up: a day in the life of well, me. And anyone else who cares to be in the pictures Ive taken. *Speaking of, thats the title of a really good album by The Cranberries. Just sayin.