Break out the pinata, Matt Smith.
Two of my three grad school applications are complete. Complete. Meaning submitted online, with essay and resume. Complete. Transcripts and letters of recommendation. In. The. Mail. D-U-N. Done.
So, there really aren't enough words to illustrate my relief. Mainly because "relief" really does seem to get the job done on its own. And again, it's only two of the three. NYU still hasn't heard word one from me.
So all I'm saying is, there's still time for me to go with the tiki torch and interpretive dance option for my next essay.
Most normal people would just revamp the essay they've used for other schools and send it to the last school. But noooo. Not me. I have to write a completely new essay. I have to tailor this one just for the lovelies at New York University's Graduate School of Education. And I hope they're satisfied. After all, the only reason I'm doing this is that the essay's supposed to be 2- to 3-pages long, DOUBLE SPACED.
Double spaced?
I'm sorry. I never really got the double-spaced phenomenon. I suppose they want to make notes, and corrections, and write all over it in green ink. But puh-lease. It's a waste of paper.
Oh. Okay. So I'm a whiner. If writing this next essay is the worst of my troubles today, I should be counting my Bing Crosby blessings. The thing of it is, I can't get myself back on track to write the damn thing.
Ah well. Let's take a rain check on the pinata. The weather's really bad for it anyway.
Bop-shabop-shabop-doowop-a-doobie-doo,
Meredith
Tuesday, January 17, 2006
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1 comment:
You know, until I got to the teachers that required double-spaing, I was a big fan of the 1.5-spacing. It's a nice amount. Not so squished that you can't read the nice, even type, but not so far apart that you want to accordion-fold the pages so you're looking at more words than space.
Perhaps you could send a video tape of you tiki-torch-dancing with your paper in your hands.
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