Stanford

I got rejected. I knew I would, but I was still sad. I'm not sure how many times I read the letter, but I sat there for a while, staring at the screen. I'm not even sure if I would have gone if I'd gotten in, so I guess in a way I'm happy. One less decision to make.

I don't know what to do with my sweatshirt. Maybe I'll donate it to Goodwill. I remember buying that sweatshirt when I went to visit Stanford in 7th grade. Getting into college seemed so easy then. All you had to do was get good grades, and every college had to accept you. That's what it seemed like then. Funny how that's all changed. According to an article my mom read in the Register yesterday, the class of 2008 will likely be the most competitive class of our generation and that starting next year, the number of kids applying to college will begin to drop. Figures. Oh wells. At least that'll give my sophmore and junior friends some hope.

My one consolation through all of this is that the day Stanford released their admissions decisions, their basketball team got knocked out of the NCAA tournament. Coincidence or karma? You decide.

Regardless of how I feel towards the admissions comittee at Stanford, I still think Stanford is the most beautiful college campus I have ever seen. Also, I will continue to watch Stanford basketball games just so I can catch a glimpse of the Stanford band and their infamous Stanford Tree.

How can you look at that and not smile?

UCs

I Am Me

I am from old diapers and spilled milk,
From tattered stuffed animals and worn out old baby blankets.
(Comforting me during nights when I was scared)
I am from gymnastics and ballet.
Whose long days of practice have stretched me out.
I'm from bad bedtime stories and grandma's wet kisses.
I'm my dad's corny jokes and stubbornness, and my mom's love of beautiful things and big heart.
I am my family's taste of different kinds of music,
And love of food.
I'm from the crazy didn't make it comedians, and the endless games of wrestling.
I'm from The Secret Garden to Harry Potter.
From never-ending amounts of seaweed, to mochi every year on new years.
I'm my grandmother's sun drenched skin, from long days working out in the sun.
From my family's love of animals.
I am from forgotten memories,
And lost dreams.
At the end of my youth,
And beginning stages of a young adult.
With still many more memories to forget.
I am me.

--Jennifer Emiko Callinan

September 28, 1990--November 17, 2007

I wasn't sure if I should have gone to the funeral, but now I'm glad I did. I learned so much more about her from her family's memories than I would have ever known. I picked a yellow petal to place beside her vase; it seems so wrong that a girl with such a big heart and smile could be contained in such a tiny vessel. She was a fellow writer, a fellow Girl Scout, a fellow Irish girl, a fellow IB student, a fellow Jennifer. She was so much more than she or I or anyone could ever say. She will be missed by those she knew and by those she would have known, those she would have saved. Rest in peace Jenn.

I hardly knew her, yet I miss her so much.

It doesn't seem right that life should go on normally now.

I'm ok for a while, and then it suddenly hits me again: she's gone.

I wish I had gone to the hospital, but I hardly knew her, so I had no business going. I wanted to though.

I wrote her a letter. She'll never read it now. It's in my purse still. I don't know what to do with it.

I wish I had done so many things differently now. I wish...

BOO!

Wow, tis been a long time...

Today is Haloween! And I have no school! Tis awesome!

This year has been pretty lame with things being cancelled. First was the Canyon Classic, then our field tournament in Hacienda Heights because our superintendent is a MORON and wouldn't let us go because we'd been "breathing in smoke all week". It's like, if the smoke was such a problem, why did you make us come to school in the first place? Instead, they just cancelled all the sports and extra-ciriculars that make school fun. So last weeks football game got moved to Monday, so we didn't go. Then they moved this weeks game against Brea to Saturday, when we have our Huntington Beach tournament (yes!), but we can't go to the game. Our calendars say it's our last one, but Dad says we still have to play El Mo. At least they aren't robbing me of my last senior football game (hopefully).

Oh, and there's a plant growing in my sink. No lie. A seedling has sprouted from my drain. I kind of what to wait and see what it grows into, but I can't use my sink now because it's really hampering the draining process. And this means there has to be like soil or something in my drain, which is more than a little disturbing.

Wells, tis homework time I guess. May the force be with you!