These last two entries were very whiny, weren’t they? Yes.
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January 5, 2009: Roneldo still too cool for school.
The magic word fairy inside my telephone informed me that the “same people” reviewed this application as the previous, and that once again the raging debate came down to the essay portion (denoted on the form with “please indicate the reasons for your choice of study), because Paier College of Art Incorporated is, foremost, a writing school. And though I communicated inadequate readiness for rigor by filling beyond capacity the space reserved for accomplishments mistakenly with art related items, still the non-approval was a surprise; I didn’t even say anyone was a whore this time.
What bothers me is the thought that I may have been rejected on the basis of my previous rejected application, and if that is the situation, why make me go to the hassle of applying again? Why set me up for two months telepoking the East Haven high school I did not go to but “officially” did, trying to make it deliver unto Paier the exact same transcripts Paier already refused to acknowledge my previous application without, that application which it has acknowledged it did acknowledge? Why did I have to call the school before somebody got around to preparing this note? No, actually, I called the school in January after hearing nothing from it since October, and the admission person said she would return my application as well as the 25 dollar application fee, which I received the very next day. The official typed up notice of refusal didn’t show up until more days later than that. Does watermarked paper take longer to pass through the postal tubes? Did it really require three days to change the word market to marketplace?
Should I be offended that Francis Rexford Cooley still thanks me but no longer “very much?”
The fact that I got the “non-refundable” cheque back, is it an example of people being nice or considering me unworthy even to accept dollars from? Is my money no good here? Is the immediate remailing of all documents back to me once I called the crew out on their inaction some legal maneuvering so that if associated busybodies of my own acquaintance succeed in convincing me I have been discriminated against or simply forgotten by some force of incompetence –when I attempted contact the handler told me the person who knew the whereabouts of my application was at lunch and I would be called back, which didn’t happen for three hours– the school masters can say “what? who? we have no application from such a person, and even if we had, where is the fee? We certainly would not have refunded it, as the fee is non-refundable.”
The problem may have been that I stated a willingness to improve my skills rather than asserting that I knew everything, as any well adjusted commercially minded person would, and might thus have deprived the paierists the fun of breaking me.
I don’t feel bad about losing this time, though, as the telephone person told me “I’m sure you’re a good artist” before we disconnected.
As to why I didn’t fill out application pages for other institutions, it was half a miracle I finished just this one without coming across as crazy, and even the crazy seems to have merely lay dormant until now. I’m no good at no smart stuff. Can’t I just move boxes at a warehouse or something?
Oh no!
The Pop-o-Matic Bubble sez:
Did you include a drawing of a dope with your application, by any chance? If so, I fear this may have frightened them off.
Zuidfwewm sez:
No dopes!
In my mind I had taken no chances with this application. I had already tried being myself, and instead this time tried being someone who does what I think people who demand forms be filled out wants. Neither was good enough.