I have been accepted to grad school.
No wait, no wait… It gets better…
I have been accepted at TWO of my top three choices.
I am so ecstatic I can hardly think straight. I can’t believe I found my direction, the path I think best suites me as a person and my strengths, and I get to go to school to learn more about it and obtain experience that will provide me with a job meant for me.
Here are the stats in ranks of preference –
TOP 3 (in no particular order)
Indiana University – Conditional Acceptance, Pending Faculty Interview and Assistantship Placement
University of Arkansas – ?
University of South Carolina – ACCEPTED! (Assistantship Interviews are in February, but the acceptance is official, regardless of Assistantship Placement)
IN ORDER OF REMAINING PREFERENCE
New York University – ?
University of Vermont - ?
Ohio State University – ?
Ball State University – Conditional Acceptance, Pending Faculty Interview and Assistantship Placement
Harvard University – ?
University of Denver – ?
Vanderbilt University - ?
It is still a waiting game, but I am not anxious anymore. Regardless of what other schools I am accepted at, and regardless of what assistantship I get (or if I get one, at certain schools), I know I get to go. I know I get to move forward in my career. It’s so cliché, but the future looks so bright right now, I need a pair of sunglasses
Showing posts with label Acceptance. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Acceptance. Show all posts
12.09.2010
11.09.2010
Hungry
I grabbed another slice of pizza from the box. I knew 2 slices earlier that I would regret every single bite I took, but it didn’t matter. What mattered was how it tasted. It didn’t matter that I had spent nearly two months eating a minute amount of calories and injecting myself with an appetite suppressing hormone to lose the 25 pounds. It mattered that eating it made me feel happy in that moment.
I took another bite, beginning to feel the weight in my stomach… the weight that comes when you know you have eaten way too much… the weight that makes you want to unbutton your pants, put on your largest pair of sweats, and curl up in bed watching pointless reality TV.
But I ignored it, focusing instead on the cheese, and the sauce, and the delicious crispy bread. It didn’t matter that I would feel sick, and guilty, and horrible about eating half of a large pizza within 30 minutes.
But it matters now.
I consider myself to have an eating disorder. An eating disorder is classified as “a group of conditions characterized by abnormal eating habits that may involve either insufficient or excessive food intake to the detriment of an individual's physical and emotional health.”
Abnormal eating habits. That would definitely be me, although I doubt I am as abnormal as some would think, considering the number of Americans who are obese. I have dealt with episodes of both insufficient and excessive food intake for my entire life; one to attempt a drastic weight loss, the other to satisfy my incessant cravings. Every once in a while I will try to eat nothing for a day or two, but I always realize how bad it is for me and my metabolism… just before stuffing my face with something that is just as bad for me as not eating. Some other times I have eaten and felt immediately guilty, so I will go throw up. I want to be clear that I am not bulimic. I have only done this on a handful of occasions over the past 10 years… but even that handful is too many.
I am approximately 50 pounds over the top point of a health weight range for someone my height, and all I can focus on is the fact that I am hungry. I am hungry all the time. ALL. THE. TIME. And the only way I can make the hunger go away is to stuff myself so full that I can only focus on how full I am, and curl up in my jammies and watch reality TV.
I have great goals for myself on how tomorrow will be. Gym in the morning, lots of fruits and veggies and protein, take a walk during lunch and again after I get home from work. Always tomorrow. And occasionally I can follow through on those goals. But only for a limited time. Only long enough that I have dropped 10-15 pounds, or until I can see the puffiness has left my face. Then it is right back to stuffing myself and laying around watching TV.
I am telling you this because I am looking for help. I am looking to someone who has been through this to give me advice, to give me a book name, to give me prayers.
I am hungry... not just for food, but for happiness and a desire to be healthy. I want to love the body I have been so destructive towards. Please help me do that.
I took another bite, beginning to feel the weight in my stomach… the weight that comes when you know you have eaten way too much… the weight that makes you want to unbutton your pants, put on your largest pair of sweats, and curl up in bed watching pointless reality TV.
But I ignored it, focusing instead on the cheese, and the sauce, and the delicious crispy bread. It didn’t matter that I would feel sick, and guilty, and horrible about eating half of a large pizza within 30 minutes.
But it matters now.
I consider myself to have an eating disorder. An eating disorder is classified as “a group of conditions characterized by abnormal eating habits that may involve either insufficient or excessive food intake to the detriment of an individual's physical and emotional health.”
Abnormal eating habits. That would definitely be me, although I doubt I am as abnormal as some would think, considering the number of Americans who are obese. I have dealt with episodes of both insufficient and excessive food intake for my entire life; one to attempt a drastic weight loss, the other to satisfy my incessant cravings. Every once in a while I will try to eat nothing for a day or two, but I always realize how bad it is for me and my metabolism… just before stuffing my face with something that is just as bad for me as not eating. Some other times I have eaten and felt immediately guilty, so I will go throw up. I want to be clear that I am not bulimic. I have only done this on a handful of occasions over the past 10 years… but even that handful is too many.
I am approximately 50 pounds over the top point of a health weight range for someone my height, and all I can focus on is the fact that I am hungry. I am hungry all the time. ALL. THE. TIME. And the only way I can make the hunger go away is to stuff myself so full that I can only focus on how full I am, and curl up in my jammies and watch reality TV.
I have great goals for myself on how tomorrow will be. Gym in the morning, lots of fruits and veggies and protein, take a walk during lunch and again after I get home from work. Always tomorrow. And occasionally I can follow through on those goals. But only for a limited time. Only long enough that I have dropped 10-15 pounds, or until I can see the puffiness has left my face. Then it is right back to stuffing myself and laying around watching TV.
I am telling you this because I am looking for help. I am looking to someone who has been through this to give me advice, to give me a book name, to give me prayers.
I am hungry... not just for food, but for happiness and a desire to be healthy. I want to love the body I have been so destructive towards. Please help me do that.
9.23.2010
Poet. Pirate. Pilgrim. President.
One of my dad’s favorite stories to tell me as a child was that we (the Collett Family) are descendants of a famous poet, a well known pirate, a pilgrim, and a president. I always rolled my eyes because even though my dad tells some outlandish stories that can only be true because he is Steve Collett, this one just always seemed a little far-fetched. It also didn’t help that he couldn’t remember any of their names, considering it was something he was so proud of. A poet, a pirate, a pilgrim and a president. I couldn’t care less unless one of them was Irish.
For as long as I can remember, I have wanted to be Irish. My friend Whitney has the most beautiful, deep, dark, red hair, and I am always jealous of the gingers that walk around with their heads gloriously aflame. But, alas, the light, strawberry tones in my mane are barely recognizable. Even my boyfriend tells me I am blonde (which I am not, bee-tee-double u). If I can’t be a red-head, I would at least settle for a super obvious last name, like an O’Malley, O’Brien, or McLaughlin… basically any of the O’s or Mc’s would do. Or maybe Doyle, or Finnegan (although, I think Jillian Finnegan sounds like a cartoon name). My good friend Laura Roland had the most beautiful maiden name – McGranaghan.
But no… I am just a frumpy, blonde, Collett.
That’s how I felt about where I came from until about 3 months ago, when I met the Collett family for a huge birthday celebration at a swanky Laguna Beach restaurant. It was the first time since my cousin Dana’s wedding in 2004 that I could remember this many of us being together, and it was the first time I was old enough to drink with everyone, as well as the first time anyone took me seriously as a young adult.
It was probably one of the most wonderful evenings I have had in my life. Not only were we all incredibly loud and obviously intoxicated, but my face hurt so bad when I left from laughing so hard, I could still feel it the next day.
I have always felt a little bit insecure about who I am. I am short, tubby and have a HUGE personality. I laugh loudly, crack inappropriate jokes, and I can be pretty damn crass. I enjoy hard alcohol in the right company and drink quickly. I’m very liberal for a Christian, and I live and love passionately, and unapologetically. These are all things I actually really enjoy about myself.
But when I spend time with my mom’s family, I always feel a little out of place. All of them are super-super religious conservative, look down on drinking, and most of them are easily irritated and quickly offended. Most of the things that come out of my mouth are considered rude, obnoxious or offensive. I spend most of our family gatherings either on edge trying to fit in, or purposefully trying to piss everyone off because I am sick of censoring myself. I always loved this group of people, but was very unsure of how I fit into the family.
On that night in June, as the Collett Family was sitting around 5 tables squished together, drinking, laughing, telling jokes and stories (some of them too outlandish to be true, but WERE in fact true) I finally realized where I am from. I finally understood where I fit in, why I am who I am.
I’m a Collett, and I couldn’t be happier, or more proud.
For as long as I can remember, I have wanted to be Irish. My friend Whitney has the most beautiful, deep, dark, red hair, and I am always jealous of the gingers that walk around with their heads gloriously aflame. But, alas, the light, strawberry tones in my mane are barely recognizable. Even my boyfriend tells me I am blonde (which I am not, bee-tee-double u). If I can’t be a red-head, I would at least settle for a super obvious last name, like an O’Malley, O’Brien, or McLaughlin… basically any of the O’s or Mc’s would do. Or maybe Doyle, or Finnegan (although, I think Jillian Finnegan sounds like a cartoon name). My good friend Laura Roland had the most beautiful maiden name – McGranaghan.
But no… I am just a frumpy, blonde, Collett.
That’s how I felt about where I came from until about 3 months ago, when I met the Collett family for a huge birthday celebration at a swanky Laguna Beach restaurant. It was the first time since my cousin Dana’s wedding in 2004 that I could remember this many of us being together, and it was the first time I was old enough to drink with everyone, as well as the first time anyone took me seriously as a young adult.
It was probably one of the most wonderful evenings I have had in my life. Not only were we all incredibly loud and obviously intoxicated, but my face hurt so bad when I left from laughing so hard, I could still feel it the next day.
I have always felt a little bit insecure about who I am. I am short, tubby and have a HUGE personality. I laugh loudly, crack inappropriate jokes, and I can be pretty damn crass. I enjoy hard alcohol in the right company and drink quickly. I’m very liberal for a Christian, and I live and love passionately, and unapologetically. These are all things I actually really enjoy about myself.
But when I spend time with my mom’s family, I always feel a little out of place. All of them are super-super religious conservative, look down on drinking, and most of them are easily irritated and quickly offended. Most of the things that come out of my mouth are considered rude, obnoxious or offensive. I spend most of our family gatherings either on edge trying to fit in, or purposefully trying to piss everyone off because I am sick of censoring myself. I always loved this group of people, but was very unsure of how I fit into the family.
On that night in June, as the Collett Family was sitting around 5 tables squished together, drinking, laughing, telling jokes and stories (some of them too outlandish to be true, but WERE in fact true) I finally realized where I am from. I finally understood where I fit in, why I am who I am.
I’m a Collett, and I couldn’t be happier, or more proud.
6.06.2010
I Don't Want To
I hate my body.
I ate like a fatty yesterday, and the worst part wasn’t even that I ate so much food I felt sick. The worst part was that I felt sick the entire time I was eating.
Normally, when I’m going to eat a lot of Italian food or burgers or anything else that is bad for me, I’m hungry when I start and by the end of the meal I feel stuffed, but I don’t feel sick until 30-60 minutes later. I have always attributed my inability to recognize when I have eaten too much to the fact I am overweight (along with my predilection for carbs). But I came to a literally sickening realization last night as I kept eating after I could feel myself getting so full I was miserable.
I hate my body.
My compulsive overeating is affecting almost every aspect of my life. When I eat too much and too unhealthily to take care of myself, I don’t work as hard at my job, I want to spend all of my time in my apartment away from everyone who might think something about my weight, and my body doesn’t feel up to going to the gym.
And what else happens when I’m eating so much that I feel sick and depressed and ugly? I have a hard time letting my boyfriend love me. I tell him how I feel every so often, but I don’t think he really understands how torn up I am inside.
Every time I go on a diet, it lasts 3-4 weeks, and I’m right back to stuffing my face again.
I am at the very end of my rope… and I don’t know where to go from here. The only thing I know is…
I hate my body…
But I don’t want to anymore.
I ate like a fatty yesterday, and the worst part wasn’t even that I ate so much food I felt sick. The worst part was that I felt sick the entire time I was eating.
Normally, when I’m going to eat a lot of Italian food or burgers or anything else that is bad for me, I’m hungry when I start and by the end of the meal I feel stuffed, but I don’t feel sick until 30-60 minutes later. I have always attributed my inability to recognize when I have eaten too much to the fact I am overweight (along with my predilection for carbs). But I came to a literally sickening realization last night as I kept eating after I could feel myself getting so full I was miserable.
I hate my body.
My compulsive overeating is affecting almost every aspect of my life. When I eat too much and too unhealthily to take care of myself, I don’t work as hard at my job, I want to spend all of my time in my apartment away from everyone who might think something about my weight, and my body doesn’t feel up to going to the gym.
And what else happens when I’m eating so much that I feel sick and depressed and ugly? I have a hard time letting my boyfriend love me. I tell him how I feel every so often, but I don’t think he really understands how torn up I am inside.
Every time I go on a diet, it lasts 3-4 weeks, and I’m right back to stuffing my face again.
I am at the very end of my rope… and I don’t know where to go from here. The only thing I know is…
I hate my body…
But I don’t want to anymore.
4.26.2010
Accepted!!!!!!!
I received an email from George Mason University mid-week last week. The overall gist is... I'M IN!!!!! I was accepted at GMU!
I was so giddy and couldn't help but cheese-face all day. Somehow, by the grace of God no doubt, I was accepted at my number 2 program. Granted, it is an unfunded position without any teaching experience directly offered to me, but there are so many new and exciting adventures in front of me! Since I can't seem to form a sentence right now, I have instead compiled a list of things going on in my head: Enjoy!
1. There are pedagogy courses available to students even if they are not Teaching Assistants... pro seminars on composition and instruction that would be invaluable to me.
2. Northern Virginia Community College has a great rapport with GMU, and they often hire graduate students to teach intro courses as long as the graduate student has taken 18 or more graduate hours.
3. Several positions become available for students to become Teaching Assistants in their second year, and while they are competitive, they are still available.
4. There are a number fellowships and grants given to students that cover tuition during the second year.
5. A number of grad students obtain substitute teaching positions in local high schools, teaching English, journalism and even creative writing!
6. Many students obtain unpaid positions working as Instructors of Composition for professors in other undergraduate departments at GMU, teaching seminars on structure and tutoring students on source citations, etc.
7. There is a deferral option, which I will most likely take advantage of. If I defer, I can be guaranteed admission next fall (2011) but still submit new writing material and be re-considered for a TA position.
I am still pretty giddy... Danny has been so incredibly supportive of me and my decision making process. He even started looking at jobs in the D.C. area to see what the job hunt situation looks like. He is such an incredible encourager to me and my goals.
Ahhhhhh, that's it for now! I will have more "official" news soon!
I was so giddy and couldn't help but cheese-face all day. Somehow, by the grace of God no doubt, I was accepted at my number 2 program. Granted, it is an unfunded position without any teaching experience directly offered to me, but there are so many new and exciting adventures in front of me! Since I can't seem to form a sentence right now, I have instead compiled a list of things going on in my head: Enjoy!
1. There are pedagogy courses available to students even if they are not Teaching Assistants... pro seminars on composition and instruction that would be invaluable to me.
2. Northern Virginia Community College has a great rapport with GMU, and they often hire graduate students to teach intro courses as long as the graduate student has taken 18 or more graduate hours.
3. Several positions become available for students to become Teaching Assistants in their second year, and while they are competitive, they are still available.
4. There are a number fellowships and grants given to students that cover tuition during the second year.
5. A number of grad students obtain substitute teaching positions in local high schools, teaching English, journalism and even creative writing!
6. Many students obtain unpaid positions working as Instructors of Composition for professors in other undergraduate departments at GMU, teaching seminars on structure and tutoring students on source citations, etc.
7. There is a deferral option, which I will most likely take advantage of. If I defer, I can be guaranteed admission next fall (2011) but still submit new writing material and be re-considered for a TA position.
I am still pretty giddy... Danny has been so incredibly supportive of me and my decision making process. He even started looking at jobs in the D.C. area to see what the job hunt situation looks like. He is such an incredible encourager to me and my goals.
Ahhhhhh, that's it for now! I will have more "official" news soon!
3.19.2010
The Most Bittersweet Day
I finally received my first honest-to-goodness piece of great news. I was accepted into the MFA in Creative Writing & Publishing Arts program at the University of Baltimore! I was so thrilled to receive an email that contained a sentence other than "We are sorry to inform you..." or "We had a number of qualified applicants we had to disappoint this year..." It was nice to think, "Wow, they liked me best!"
Unfortunately, within 24 hours of learning of my acceptance at Baltimore, I was also informed of my rejection from Notre Dame. The stupid thing is, I knew it was coming. I saw people posting on the blogs that they had been accepted, or wait-listed. But I kept thinking maybe, just maybe. But I was wrong. I was so foolish to go into this year believing I could have gotten in at ND when only 6 students are accepted for prose out of several hundred that apply.
My acceptance at Baltimore doesn't mean I will be heading off to the east coast any time soon. I am debating whether or not I am willing to go into around $50K in debt for a program I am not necessarily hell-bent on going to. Don't get me wrong, I would love to go to Baltimore and participate in a program that is ranked in the top 100 MFA programs, and the top 10 distinctive MFA programs in the US. But there are no teaching assistantships or opportunities provided by the school and little to no funding in an expensive urban area.
So here is the new update:
Baltimore-Accepted
George Mason-Waitlisted
UNCW-Waitlisted
Arizona-Rejected
Columbia College-Rejected
Hunter College-Rejected
Notre Dame-Rejected
Hollins-??
Arkansas-??
I guess for now I can at least rejoice in my acceptance, even if it was a little bitter-sweet. Good bye Notre Dame... maybe next year...
Unfortunately, within 24 hours of learning of my acceptance at Baltimore, I was also informed of my rejection from Notre Dame. The stupid thing is, I knew it was coming. I saw people posting on the blogs that they had been accepted, or wait-listed. But I kept thinking maybe, just maybe. But I was wrong. I was so foolish to go into this year believing I could have gotten in at ND when only 6 students are accepted for prose out of several hundred that apply.
My acceptance at Baltimore doesn't mean I will be heading off to the east coast any time soon. I am debating whether or not I am willing to go into around $50K in debt for a program I am not necessarily hell-bent on going to. Don't get me wrong, I would love to go to Baltimore and participate in a program that is ranked in the top 100 MFA programs, and the top 10 distinctive MFA programs in the US. But there are no teaching assistantships or opportunities provided by the school and little to no funding in an expensive urban area.
So here is the new update:
Baltimore-Accepted
George Mason-Waitlisted
UNCW-Waitlisted
Arizona-Rejected
Columbia College-Rejected
Hunter College-Rejected
Notre Dame-Rejected
Hollins-??
Arkansas-??
I guess for now I can at least rejoice in my acceptance, even if it was a little bitter-sweet. Good bye Notre Dame... maybe next year...
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