Bacon and Eggs

When I was younger, I had a frenemy named Emi. (I'm sure some of you will remember her. Especially if you went with us to the fair and had to wait around while we found her a corn dog. But I digress.) One thing that always frosted my cookies about Emi was that good opportunities always seemed to just plop themselves in her lap on more than one occasion. Her dad owned his own business so she always had a nice, cushy summer job waiting for her. And her family friends owned a flower shop so she had a pretty good job set-up during the school year, too. Now, I'm not saying I was chomping at the bit to work a whole bunch in high school... if I was, I could have, of course, gone out and gotten a job on my own. I wasn't envious of the work so much as the fact that she got the jobs without trying. I would have loved the chance to work for people I already knew without having to go through the rigors of applying and interviewing! (Plus, she took her driving test on an über-busy Saturday and her instructor didn't make her do anything - not even a 3-point turn! Man, that chapped my ass at the time. Suckballs!) Cue the violins here, people - clearly, my life has been nothing but a struggle, right? I know.

Anyhoo, what's the point of this sad and bitter recollecting, you ask? Well, it's merely to set the stage for the announcement that now I, too, have had something fortuitous fall into my lap! Remember our videographer friend Quentin? Well, turns out he needs some part-time help with a few administrative things and since he knew I was currently out of work, he offered me the gig. It's part-time, it's flexible, it's for someone I know and like AND it's doing something I will actually find interesting (blogging)! Sweet!!! I think it will be the perfect thing for me while I'm going to school... and I wasn't even looking for it. I am a lucky duck these days [knocks wood].

To cap off this good news, I present a little video I made over the weekend. Robert and I met up with Quentin and Leah on Friday to grab some dinner and go over some of the job details. As we were in the midst of sharing stories at the end of the evening, a fantastic story about a recent incident at one of Quentin's video shoots came up. It seemed like the perfect subject for the Stick Figure Treatment. Once I got started, though, I could tell this would be no ordinary stick figure entry, oh no. It needed a little something extra. A little pizazz, if you will. So, without further ado, I present:

The Story of How a Bacon Got His Eggs Scrambled

All of the events portrayed in the video actually occurred; I just hammed it up a little for humor's sake.

The Story of the Hangnail That Saved Me

Well, at least I assume it was a hangnail, since that what I was wishing for.

It all started on Tuesday afternoon. Around 3:45 or so the phone rang. I did not recognize the number so I didn't bother answering. (Hey, I barely answer the phone for people I do know. I know you're not surprised.)

As I listened to the caller leave her message, I felt my stomach lurch at the name Kathy DePaolo. That's the name of the woman I'd been in contact with regarding my Foothill application. And her message said she was "trying [me] at home, too." Which meant she probably called my cell. I checked it. She had. And she left me her personal cell as the callback number. This said to me that she really wanted to get in contact with me. That could only mean good news, right? I mean, only a truly cruel person would stalk you to tell you something soul-crushing, right? Still, past experience caused me to pause and try not to get too far ahead of myself. I also didn't want to seem uncoolly eager, so I waited about 6 minutes before calling her back.

I was very nervous when I finally made the call.

Why is the phone in the picture red when in the first picture it's grey? Because I had to call back on my cell, which is red (long distance, you know). I'm all about accuracy, people.

The first thing Ms. DePaolo said was "I hope I'm calling with good news for you." At that point, I think my brain boiled over. Luckily, I was still able to follow the conversation which went a little something like this: Ms. DePaolo said that a slot had opened up in the program and she hoped I hadn't already made alternate plans and would be able to start in the fall. I said something like "I guess. You know. Whatevs." She went on to say again how sorry she was to have to turn me away originally and that they were definitely not ever using the lottery system ever again. She continued to go over all the boring (to you) logistical stuff and that she'd drop my acceptance packet in the mail the next morning. I told her I was thrilled to have the opportunity and we said our goodbyes. I was kind of in shock.




But then it sank it a little and I got excited. Very, very excited.

I called Robert immediately, of course, but he was busy working and so I had to leave a message. He didn't call me back for an hour. Some of my excitedness had fizzled out a little by then. (I didn't want to call anyone else before I told him so I had a lot of pent-up enthusiasm that had nowhere to go. So it sort of died a little bit. Thanks, Robert. You worker you. Bleh.) But when he finally did call me back he was, of course, very excited for me. I was then free to tell my folks and they were super excited, too. Everything is starting to fall into place!!! I can't believe it. :o) But I didn't want to post anything until I had the physical letter in my hand.

Today being Friday, I assumed the packet had to be here. I approached my old enemy The Mailbox with a new found confidence.


And was subsequently rewarded.



WEEHOO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! My plans are back on track, people. I am so HAPPY! :o) I'm so happy that the prospect of having to work with goats, sheep, horses, dogs, cats, rabbits, mice and rats actually sounds like fun to me. I KNOW! This is the right path for me, I just know it. I was never this excited about stinky ol' library books.

The Story of My Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Rotten News

Hmph. I knew this was coming. I've put it off as long as possible but now that it is officially August I can go no longer without informing you all of my shame. I have received the letter I have been waiting for and, well... it definitely left something to be desired.


It goes without saying but I'll say it anyway: it was a major blow. BLOW. I had turned in my application early! I had all the prerequisites finished! And (not to sound terribly snotty, but) I went to UCLA for crap's sake!!! What is wrong with you Foothill people?! In all of the program's literature it's stated that they accept applicants on a first come, first served basis. And when the director of the program came to speak to my class in May he reiterated that it was a first come, first served system and that he thought there were still slots available. Since I'd already sent my application in, I believed I was good to go. Now, I really did try to refrain from assuming I was already in the program. I knew that there was a slight chance things wouldn't go my way and that as soon as I started thinking it was in the bag something would bite me in the ass. But, let's face it - the larger part of my brain was chanting "You're a super cool applicant! You're in!" And that part was hard to ignore. Stupid brain.

Anyway, I got my letter and I was bumfuzzled. Not only was I in shock over reading that I was not, in fact, "awesome" OR "in" but I was distressed to see that it didn't even look like I was on the wait list. In fact, it didn't look like Foothill thought all of my prereqs were done, either. Look at this:


Do those look like bullets or empty check boxes? They looked like empty check boxes to me, which meant that Foothill believed neither of those statements to be true. Which completely freaked me out. So, I immediately called the designated contact person and left her a very nice message saying that while I knew there were probably lots of angry students calling her right about now, I just needed some help understanding just what the big blank boxes were trying to say to me. And I sent her an e-mail, too. (I really was nice in my messages, I swear. Having been the go-to person for angry calls and e-mails, I was as self-deprecating as could be.) This was on a Friday. I spent the rest of the weekend on the couch in the fetal position, crippled by depression.


Robert kept trying to cheer me up by pointing out that my rejection was not due to any personal failing. The letter said that, in light of the fact that Foothill received 80+ applications for 55 slots, they did away with the first come, first served system and went straight to a lottery. A lottery?! Ugh. What a hideous way to decide a person's future! The logical part of my brain understood that Robert was right, a lottery is a lottery and you just have no control over whether your number is drawn or not. The other part of my brain felt like the world's hugest failure for being a person with a BA rejected by a community college. And, just like before, that part of the brain is easier to listen to.

Then, on the following Sunday afternoon, I got a very lengthy voice mail from the woman I'd called on Friday. She apologized for the letter being confusing but said the school had gone through several drafts and it had been hard to keep up with which version went where. She also said that both statements were, in fact, true for me - I did have all my prereqs done (I knew it!) and I was indeed on the waiting list. She then went on to tell me how wonderful my application was, how I had done everything right, how great it was that I had all my science courses taken already and that she had put my application in the 'accepted' pile before the lottery business came up. Apparently, the instructors were unhappy with the lottery system turning away qualified candidates so starting next year the program is implementing a competitive points system where applicants will be ranked according to their academic preparation. She added that if I apply next year, I will definitely be accepted, no question. She ended the message by pointing out that several people had provisional acceptances and should any of them not be able to enter the program, or should anyone else who was accepted decline their spot, I could potentially still be admitted for this year. She was really very nice and I appreciated her taking the time (on a weekend, no less) to call me and clarify things.

Unfortunately, now the hard 'NO' has turned into a soft 'no.' And while I'm hoping against hope that something happens and I do get accepted this year (I'm not hoping anyone gets hit and maimed by a car, mind you. I'm thinking more of a "My hangnail got so infected that I won't be able to write for months and won't be able to attend classes. But in the long run, my health will be fine!" kind of thing), I hate the uncertainty of waiting. And because the program has positions open up as late as the week before school starts, I have many, many, many more weeks of waiting.

The teensy, tiny sliver of hope is already wreaking havoc on my mind. Every day when I go to the mailbox, I can tell I'm anticipating opening it up and finding a packet telling me I'm in.


Only to be bitterly disappointed when said packet is nowhere to be found.



So, no packet yet. It's still (sort of) early and I'm not even going to pretend that I'm not desperately clinging to the tiny thread of possibility I might start the program this fall. I know it's a long shot but I really, really, really, REALLY don't want to wait another year to start school full-time. I hate when my carefully considered plans get knocked out of whack! I don't deal well with change or disappointment!!! But, what can I do? For now, I've signed up for those classes I can take outside the program and I'm just waiting to see. If I don't wind up starting the program in September, I'll just go ahead and take whatever classes I can (about 2 each quarter) and then probably wind up finding some sort of part-time job. Not exactly what I had in mind and certainly not what I'd prefer to do this next year but it's the best I can do.

Just keep your fingers crossed someone gets a hangnail, okay?


UPDATE: Someone did!!