Continuing my Resolution Experiment, where I choose a mini-New Year’s Resolution each month, April is the month of cute pictures! I resolve that I’ll post a cute picture on the blog every day for the next month! Won’t this be great!?
Today, I’ve chosen an adorable dog running! Also, if you click the picture, you’ll see a video of him running. Adorable.
Rough weeks trigger lengthy and significant blog posts, it turns out.
Due to many personal stresses, including recent developments on the college admissions front, I have dug myself into a temporary sadness and a currently persisting physical sickness. I’ve spent my weekend trying to nurse myself back to happiness and health; my attempts have had variable success. If you’ll bear with me though this lengthy post, I’ve reached a turning point that I’d like to share with you. I’ll break down the recent events of my life and try to tie them together.
This last Thursday marked “100 days” left until my high school graduation, an event I’m eagerly dreading. I haven’t been an officer for my class in two years due to taking a position as Student Council President, but I’ve always offered my support. On account of this, I was pleased when I was asked to put together a slideshow of photographs consisting of members of my class. This slideshow was to be shown at a breakfast to celebrate the number of days left until graduation.
Although I’m glad I put it together, it was a very difficult process. Scanning photos with my friend Matt took hours, and cropping them into a slideshow was tedious. More than that, though, I saw pictures of my friends and acquittances as they grew up, all together, in this small town. It hardly felt fair for me to put the presentation together, seeing as though I had only lived in this town for six years of the twelve years of public education. It was an emotional hurdle I hadn’t anticipated.
Regardless, the breakfast ceremony wasn’t a disaster. In fact, it’s had me thinking about my future. My class’ officers asked a few influential teachers and faculty members to say a few words at the ceremony. One of those people gave us this wisdom about Dover Plains:
You guys all know that there’s nothing for you here. Get out, come back, and tell us how you did. Make us all proud.
I’ve known this for years. The town I live in, unfortunately, is a dead end. Regardless, I love it to death. I even wrote one of my essays for MIT on it, and truly meant every touching word I said. (I’m considering posting that essay on the blog. Let me know if you’re interested.)
What the speaker said had me think about all of the work I’ve done to try to improve Dover High School. I’ve had successes due to hard work, and I’ve had failures due to improper planning, the actions of others, and the bureaucracy characteristic of a public school.
I have a few projects, “unfinished business”, on my list of “help Dover” endeavors. Recently, I’ve been wondering whether or not to scrap that list. I’ve gone through the system and put in more work and hours than most people do. I’ve been thinking, why not just let it rest?
I can’t let it rest. I’ve gone through my time at Dover High School believing that I must always try to make the environment better for the next person. It’s the idea that’s defined my career thus far, and I can’t quit now. It’s why I’m alive, isn’t it? I’ll have some interesting stories involving my final hurrah to share, I bet.
In the midst of my normal routine, I’ve been wondering if or when I’ll claim an unknown “amount” of hearing back after my surgery almost one month ago. Since my last appointment with my surgeon, when he took a lot of “packing” out of my ear, I’ve been picking up high-pitch sounds, like a female’s voice. The sensations are very sharp and painful, but I expect them to get better.
It’s been my March Resolution to dedicate myself to healing. I haven’t done that as well as I would have liked to. My “can do” lifestyle hasn’t been kind to me, but I’ve been trying to adjust.
In the last week and a half, I was accepted to Lafayette and RPI. Lafayette’s acceptance letter didn’t come with a complete financial aid package; the big envelope only delivered the news that I had been selected to receive the school’s highest merit scholarship, the Marquis Scholarship. RPI’s letter came with a financial aid package that I consider to be lackluster.
Last Thursday, as I was about to start my last hurrah on the Senior Slideshow, my Mom gave me a letter from MIT – a small envelope. My heartbeat instantly quickened as I rushed to open the letter which I knew would bring me bad news. It started:
We have finished the selection process for MIT’s Class of 2012, and while we are unable to offer you admission at this time, we have placed you on our Wait List.
That was my bitter introduction to the proper noun, “Wait List”. The remainder of the letter told me I could either choose to remain on or withdraw from the list.
I’ve come this far, so I’ve decided to stay. Although I know the odds are impossibly small, I would never forgive myself if I didn’t stick around to see what happens.
I’ve had a frustrating week, one which has plunged me into feeling ill. If you’ve been monitoring my presence online, I haven’t been overwhelming positive. The reports of my death are greatly exaggerated, and I hope to play my cards the best I can. Essentially, I’m not really going to change anything in my life right now. I’m just going to keep going, doing my best. It’s a very faux turning point, isn’t it?
Just bare with me as I get back on my feet. It’s easier to write a blog post than to put thought into action, but it’s a step.
Another thought: A huge thanks to the people who have given me their kind words while I’ve been working through this.
According to my calendar, it’s been four days since I’ve had my ear surgery. Although I didn’t anticipate that I’d need to, I took both Thursday and Friday off from school. I wouldn’t have been much of a productive student anyway; this experience has taken me for a ride.
As of now, I’m not feeling too well. I cannot balance well, I have zero ability to hear out of my right ear, I’ve lost my ability to taste much of anything, and I cannot concentrate. The first two symptoms, I imagine, are from the nature of the surgery itself. I believe the last two are side-effects from the anesthetics I was on during the procedure.
My entire body feels odd – thrown off course. As I tried to go to sleep two nights ago, I could not shut off my brain. Thoughts, or rather, fragments of thoughts, kept flying through. It’s terrifying to lose control like that, and I certainly hope these feelings wear off soon. I miss my body and my mind.
It’s unfortunate that the timing of this procedure and my lack of preparedness has thrown my New Year’s Resolution Experiment off course. To catch everyone up, I resolved to make twelve monthly resolutions rather than one large yearly resolution. February’s goal was to treat my body better, which I did. I was on a good course and I plan to continue it once I’m allowed to exercise physically again.
Coincidentally, it’s supposed to take me about a month to heal from my operation. I’ve decided to dedicate March to healing. I’m going to be absolutely religious about doing everything I can to help my body heal. This means continuing in a more healthy lifestyle, but unfortunately, taking it easy when it comes to physical activity.
March is shaping up to be a huge month for me. I’ll be healing from my surgery, I have a DJ event lined up, and I’m expecting news from my colleges soon. As always, I’ll keep you posted.
I’ve pinpointed the basic premise of my resolution experiment for February. I’m going to drink more water, eat smaller portions of meals, and exercise daily. I feel that these three things are doable – and even fun.
Here goes.
It’s time for part two of my twelve-part new year’s resolution, where I try something new every month to better myself. February is a routine fitness month. I plan on being much more physically active and conscious with my food choices. After a week or so I’ll post some specific observations. In that time I’ll be able to feel out what I’m capable of accomplishing. Remember everyone, we make resolutions to keep them, not break them. We need to try things that we think we can do.
For January, I vowed not to talk about people behind their backs. For the most part, it worked. I completely recommend everyone to try this out. You’ll feel better about yourself.