Cool, Pointless Post

July 22, 2013

I heard back from USC. I’m still on the wait list.

It’s a bit stressful without being actually stressful. I know about the stress, because I can think, but I don’t feel it. I received an email from the admission’s office stating that they were going to review wait listed applications every week, but basically they have to wait to see how many students show up for class the first week before determining if they have room for me.

The stressful part is getting accepted after class has already started. I applied for financial aid, but I have not taken any further steps because I wasn’t sure of my admission status. Funding isn’t the only issue though. If I’m not accepted until after the first week, that would mean missing the first day of my first class, a class I haven’t even selected yet.

But it’s good. Whatever this life is, it’s good. I’m going to email the Financial Aid office and figure out what my next step would be if I were accepted, that way I know exactly what to do if I am accepted. I’d need to figure out what classes to start out with, and what books to buy too. The upside is that I will only be taking one class to start, so it’s not like I have 4 classes of catch-up work to do. And if I’m not mistaken, I think the night classes meet once a week, so that shouldn’t add too much stress.

Like I said, I see the stress in my head when I talk about it, but it’s not really affecting me tonight because it still seems so up in the air and far away. Maybe because I’ve been living in this fairy tale state of mind lately, where everything that breathes is precious and I’m staring at birds all day. If there’s one thing we should do more often, I’d say it’s staring at birds. They don’t have much of an opinion on financial aid. Their only concern is the fragile thing they’re sitting on in a given moment, and what part of their feathers they’d like to dive their beaks into. There’s a lot to be envied in simple thought like that.

On a completely unrelated note, last night the Poltergeist was on TV. Instead of scaring me to shreds, it taught me a nice little thing.

“Nothing really dies. Like a caterpillar that becomes a butterfly, death only transforms us into another state of being.”

I changed the channel shortly after anyway. No sense in sticking around for the ghostly parts. But that quote made me wonder who the hell told us death was ever a bad thing in the first place. Was there someone responsible for this, like one single person who told the mother of the first person to die that the physical world was all that existed and to leave it was a horribly bad thing? Or is death one of those things that’s only bad because people tell you it’s bad, but if you think it’s not, then it’s really not. Kind of like when people say fear is an option, or that things like self-sabotage only exist because we let them.

I think it would make a good documentary, death. Or at the very least a good one hour special on the history channel.

There’s no point here.

I do apologize for that. If you’re looking for something to blame besides me, blame the portable PC. There’s probably a direct correlation between blogging in bed and never having a point to anything you write. Or anything you say for that matter. Must be the horizontal position, too much blood rushing to the head. I’d be lying if I said it hasn’t made my posts a lot fucking weirder.

But I’d also be lying if I said weird didn’t live here.

Have a lovely Tuesday.