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Jul 19, 2003

"That's right, bitch, keep typing! 'We hereby accept...' No! Damnit! One more time! 'C - I - A - R - O - C - H - I!' And I want this printed on nice! fucking! letterhead!"

That's right, ladies and gentlemen, I made the hour-and-a-half drive to UGA today. You may be asking, 'to what end, Nick?" Well, gentle audience, phone calls weren't working and the mailbox is slow. I decided it was about damn time to make them take this as seriously as I do, and they say the next best thing to poppin' a cap in some admission ho's fat ass is a face-to-face conference. Well, 'they' don't, but I do.

I was really worried. I'd prepared this whole binderfull of crap to bring up. I had an appeal letter holstered on my right hip and a spare copy of my transcripts on my left. I had no less than three writing utensils and no less than four maps of the campus. I'd practiced saying my SSN to the point where I sometimes found that I was reciting it instead of exhaling. I walked in prepared to deal with anything short of a catastrophic meteor hit somewhere in the north atlantic.

I walked out with a thick course catalog, a lighter binder, the acquaintance of a couple of administrators...and a spot in the late orientation session! That's right, friends, I'm going to college again! Not only that, but a very helpful counselor in the finaid office hooked me up with some extra loanage that should get me a nice shared apartment with money to spare!

I want to thank everyone who called me, IM'ed me, or commented here. You guys have no idea how much it means to have friends willing to help, offer moral support, or send hate mail to the UGA admissions office. I hate to get sappy, but this rallying behind the 'loser friend' couldn't have been a better lasting memory of my high school years. This outpouring of concern and support speaks to what wonderful people you are.

I'm going to cry now. I love you guys.
Nick ::: 12:44 AM ::: 0 comments

Jul 17, 2003

"Hello, this is the office of un-admissions. We have already proven our hatred for you by - what else? - un-admitting you. Please work your way through our vague labyrinth of recorded voices using your touch-tone phone. This is calculated to be as slow as possible to waste as much of your long-distance money as it can. Once you have reached one of our human representatives, you will be notified that this entire process is totally futile. Write a letter, take a number, and get in line."
Nick ::: 4:21 PM ::: 0 comments

Jul 14, 2003

OK, let's get right down to it. This post was originally going to be a really horrible embittered rant that would estrange me from all of my friends because of a moment of callous, frustrated anger. Well, that didn't happen. I don't have it in me to be angry or bitter at anyone else for a circumstance which is entirely my own fault. I want to -- God, how I want to! -- but it won't happen.

I won't be going to college next month. This has nothing to do with any of the myriad things I had foreseen sabotaging my higher education. I expected lack of money. I expected the difficulty of finding an apartment or a job to pay for it. I expected some sort of trouble with HOPE because it's such a silent award. I did not expect paperwork.

That's right, ladies and gentlemen, I fucked up the paperwork and now UGA has rescinded their offer of admission. I didn't read the right part of the right notice at the right time. I paid my deposit, I applied for housing, I applied for aid. I did all the stuff that I thought would kill me. Something I didn't do got to me instead.

So, rising Seniors, I guess I'll be visiting a lot more constantly than I had expected. Rising freshmen...I wish I could hate you. I really do.
Nick ::: 1:12 PM ::: 0 comments

Jul 13, 2003

This night I hide
from truth and sun;
Tune out the world
'til sunrise comes.
Living a lie
with hope so sweet -
I've engineered
my own defeat.

Sleep now my mind;
don't fear the sun.
When morning comes,
we will be gone.
Mistakes my past,
judgment is near.
The gallows wait -
I'll not wait here.

Come twilit gloom,
make my escape:
run from the real,
the safe is fake.
Seek sanctuary
far from home.
The shadowed road
my ghost must roam.

I'm a good liar -
truth is hard.
I can't control it;
I won't start.
My ruin beckons,
grows my fear.
When sunrise comes,
I'll not be here.
Nick ::: 10:56 PM ::: 0 comments

I would like a spaceship. So, like all true-blue patrons of the internet generation, I want Google to find it for me. These are a few selected results of my search.

First I came across this one. Absolutely unsatisfactory. It's skipper is obviously compensating for a bit of disquieting "entropy" of his own.

This spaceship held my attention for some time. It is very contemporary (or I guess post-contemporary or some sort of equally silly term) with its sleek lines and weird curves. However, my interest quickly abated when I realized that there were holes in it. It also appears to have a glowing swizzle stick stuck up its butt.

My next discovery does, I admit, have a sort of retro Flash Gordon pulp SciFi novel charm. However, it appears to have landed on a giant albino waffle. Next picture!

My next spaceship was a much smaller craft. Small, yet three-dimensional. Bulbous, yet spiky. Winged, yet with a lens flare. I eventually decided against it because "A-56E" is printed on the side. "A-56E" is my unlucky number. Well, my unlucky alphanumeric series.

Next in line came this tidy little cyberpunk number. Honestly, it would have been a much better candidate if not for those ridiculous spiky things on the nacelles. What the hell are those? Snow cones? Party hats? Two clones of Roberto Benigni as Pinnochio being sucked into wood chippers? Hmm. I rather like that last one. Maybe they could make a sequel. Maybe they will let that crazy man make another movie as long as he lives.

Or maybe not.

I was so disconcerted by Benigni that I was almost taken in by this clever ploy. However, one would have to wake up quite early in the morning to fool me. Well, actually, if one got up any earlier than about 11AM one would probably catch me napping, but that's not the point. This is clearly not a spaceship. If it's a spaceship, what's it doing in that city? Spaceships are in space! That's why they're called "space"-ships, you numbskull!

Those were not all of the 8,240 search results. However, those were all of the working ones on the first page. A long internal debate raged within my Gen-Y soul...to click the next "o" in "Goooooooooogle," or not to click the next "o" in "Goooooooooogle"? Eventually, I decided that the effort was simply too great. I can't believe that my favorite search engine would try to push me that far, work me that mercilessly! My right index finger almost broke a sweat from all that clicking! No spaceship is worth that kind of self-sacrifice.

This lady seems to have a pretty good approach to the problem, though. Hmm...

Aww, what the hell? Moon or bust!
Nick ::: 1:25 AM ::: 0 comments

Is this black color scheme depressing? Its slickness seems to be wearing a bit thin.
Nick ::: 12:29 AM ::: 0 comments

Y'know what? I'm ebullient. The world is crashing down around me, isn't it? My dreams are fading and my stupidity is getting the best of me, I'm sure. Surely there's some social melodrama going on and my mom's probably suing again, but I'm not aware of it. No doubt someone in power has done something stupid and even now weapons of mass destruction are mere moments from raining down on our heads, but I haven't really been paying attention.

I'm ebullient. The rest of the world can damn well give up on trying to ruin my day.
Nick ::: 12:04 AM ::: 0 comments