The Diary of an (Ambitious?) College Applicant - Part 3

Procrastination leads to some Bad-ass creativity

People

People dream a lot

People dream of white veil occasions.

 People dream of Charming

Life’s easy for white male Caucasians

People like to roll their eyes

People like to hate

People like to denounce

That which is destined to be great

People try to speak their mind

Most don’t know how

Confusing when Nick says Don’t Speak

And Taylor says Speak Now

People have good days

Then there are Monday blues

Refusing to welcome the new week

Holding on till the last snooze

I try to be different from people

If everyone does it, must be wrong

That logic may not work now

But Maroon says it won’t be soon before long

The Diary of an (Ambitious?) College Applicant- Part 2

REJECTION

Life is sad. Don’t believe me? Just listen to the first 17 seconds of this song.

For a college applicant, not getting picked is the worst thing ever. It really doesn’t depend on one’s chances or one’s record. Even if you know that the place you’ve applied to is VERY VERY selective and your chances of getting in are minimal, you still have that glimmer of hope. Until they’ve delivered their verdict, you have something to hold on to. You CAN legitimately dream about going there. That is, until you get rejected.

That’s the way I see it. I can’t see it as someone else getting picked over me; that the competition was too high, or there weren’t enough seats in my chosen course. The only way I see it is that I’ve been rejected.

They didn’t like me. They turned me away.  I’m inadequate. SOMETHING IS WRONG WITH ME. WhyWhyWhy did I not get picked?

The moment I found out about my rejection (and that, too, from the first university I heard back from), I immediately started thinking about the entry test. Perhaps I could find a reason there. What about that extra e-mail I sent them, ‘cause I was getting impatient?  Then I went back to my application essays. I’ve only gone as far, but who knows? I’ll go even further back. Try and find faults (more faults than I already know) in myself. Run roughshod over my entire body and soul. Try and find the one reason (or maybe many reasons) why I was not good enough.   

I know it will eventually sink in. I’ll cope with it. Move on. I can still dream about everywhere else I’ve applied to. And as a famous philosopher once said “ Tum ne sirf parrhna hi hai na.  Aur achay college say parrhna hai. Buss”. But right now this feeling of rejection is the worst feeling ever. I just hope I don’t devour myself in the coming hours.

P.S. The ending of that song I posted at the start is pretty sad too. And it’s stuck in my head… If you let it play at the start you’re probably reaching that part now.

The Diary of a Not-So-Senior Senior

The Idol Countdown.

    December brings to mind Christmas, Boxing Day sales, midterms, winter holidays, the New Year, snow, what have you. Students spend the beginning of the month hidden behind textbooks, waiting for the last exam; the day winter break begins. The closer it gets to the 31^st, excitement for what the new year will hold sinks in. Some even begin coming up with possible New Year’s Resolutions. Most just plan New Year’s Eve parties. But what do I most look forward to?

The start of a new season of American Idol, come January.

    I love the show. Too much. I follow the whole season, come rain or shine. The auditions, though most people LOVE them, are not my favorite part. My favorite part is the last few weeks, the veeerry last few.

I’ve been a fan of the show for as long as I can remember. I started watching it during season 3. By far, my least favorite were seasons 3, 5, 6, 9, and 10, while my most favorite was season 7, when David Cook won. I watched his audition, and said, “He’s going to win.” I stood by him through till the end. I even asked my aunt in the US to vote for him. And he won.

    I’m not sure why I love Idol so much, but the first few months of the year are never complete, if I don’t have my Idol-watching days. Although, last year and the year before that, Star World was a right pain in the neck, showing episodes a week or two late. Last year was the worst, and then Scotty won. I have nothing against the guy, but its just that, REALLY? THAT is what won? I mean, COME ON. Haley Reinhart had a voice of pure gold. GOLD. And they voted her out. SO not fair.

    The fact that the judges have changed makes no difference to me. Simon Cowell was great, no doubt. Kara DioGuardi was unnecessary but not unwelcome. Paula Abdul was too nice for her own good. Randy Jackson is cool. Ellen DeGeneres was the BOMB. Jennifer Lopez is good enough. Steven Tyler is “ill”. Ryan Seacrest, however, is EPIC. I think the show wouldn’t be half as watchable if he wasn’t the host. I cant imagine Idol without him. If he were to leave it, I’d seriously consider not watching it anymore. The past couple seasons have been disappointing enough, as is.

    Be that as it may, for the time being, what I most look forward to, come December, is January, wherein a new season of Idol will be aired, during which a star will be born. Seriously.

The Diary of an (Ambitious?) College Applicant- Part 1

Writer’s BLOCK

350 words on a Microsoft WORD roughly add up to 15 kb. I have 231 KB worth of words in my “college essay” folder. *opens up calculator on computer. Reminisces about the time when computers were just calculating machines. * 231KB is roughly 5390 words. In the past 5 days, I typed in almost FIVE AND A HALF THOUSAND WORDS worth of college essay. And the best part? THE BEST PART?

I am only halfway there.

No I’m not halfway there to college. I’m only halfway there in completing my applications and the dreaded 11 letter word: “supplements”.

This time of year is perhaps the most bitchy for a college applicant i.e. a senior.  (And our entire year is TRES bitchy.) We’re running out of SAT test dates. We have school exams to keep up with. But America takes the heat off by giving us a deadline date that’s laid back. A deadline that encourages laziness and chill mahols. A deadline that is truly American in that respect.

So what’s the problem then? I should finish up with exams and stuff and then dedicate December to apps. The answer to why I cannot do that is also the reason why I frantically conjured up 5-and-a-half thousand words in a space of 4 days (yes I just realized I didn’t do anything on Friday).

My school. I can’t elaborate on that. It’s just that my school has this British (we’re British and very hoity toity you see) knack of Britta-ing everything up. In conclusion, we have an internal deadline that expired on Wednesday. Yes I used the present tense on purpose. I repeat. We HAVE an internal deadline which expired on Wednesday. If, by some miracle, you the reader understand this paradoxical statement, you will understand how things work at AITCHISON COLLEGE.

The unclear implementation of the deadline is one thing. But the deadline’s existence does not make any sense to anyone. All it seems to do is take away 30 valuable days. 30 valuable College supplement writing days. And that internal deadline took those days from us. Yet we still have them days. Paradoxical statement-understanding = Aitchison College-understanding.

So, today, on Saturday, after 3 full days of no writing (just remembered. Didn’t do anything on Thursday either), I finally made the call. Made it official. I have a writer’s block. I can’t write anymore. I’m absolutely stumped. I have lost all creativity. I can’t impress myself with my words (that’s how I judge my good writing from my garbage writing).

Add that to the constant paranoia that I have regarding the quality of my already written words. What if tomorrow I wake up and realize those 5500 words are all garbage. What then?

And I have important SATs on Saturday. AMI BACHAAAYEIN!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

So I thought about blogging about it. In fact why don’t I just blog about my entire journey to college? Hence: The diary of an (ambitious?) college applicant.

You’re probably wondering how I could write this blog post in the middle of a writer’s block. I could point the finger at Ayla. She wrote this. But she didn’t. Here’s the FULL equation that I alluded to before:

Paradoxical statement-understanding = Aitchison College-understanding = Understanding me!

(Understanding me! = Understanding me X Understanding m X Understanding  X Understanding X Understandin X Understandi X Understand X Understan X Understa X Underst X Unders X Under X Unde X Und X Un X U)

Sorry Ayla. Could not resist the Math joke. Even though you said it was lame.

You Have 150 Words. Take A Risk

“Take A Risk,” it says. WELL. This is a risk – trying to write within a word limit.

If everyone else jumps off a cliff, would you? I would – if I was in Greece, and my friends were jumping off cliffs and into the ocean. It’s on my bucket list – “go to Greece. Bungee jump.” Sure, that’s two different things, but the point is, those are some things I want to do before I die. Of course, I could die tomorrow (Note to self: It been three days since that line was written. Touchwood); get run over by a bus maybe (hopefully not), and I won’t have done half the things on my list, but that’s not the point of me having made that list. It’s a way of remembering all the things I’ve seen done, and want to try for myself, sort of. Crossing out “items” on said list fills me up with a sense of achievement, even if it was something relatively lame. Here’s hoping I do find a cure for the common cold! (Don’t get me started on Humanities again. This is what humanities as a subject choice will lead to. Yes the “THIS” is a link. Go click it. Go on.)

150 words exactly^.  Leaves a lot wanting, but I tried my level best to get SOME point across, within staying in the word limit. HATE word limits. Just attempting to write something with a word limit is a risk, for me. -___- Lets not include this bit in the actual post. Or let’s do, because ‘tis sort of explanatory. You decide, Dannay. (HEY AUTOCORRECT FIGURED OUT THAT WAS A NAME AND MADE THE D CAPITAL ITSELF! L4wLz) (Let the nickname-coming-up-with to me)

Daniyal saw the Prime Minister, and all he got was this lousy blog post…

    Yeah, I saw the man. Live. In person…  Okay,  so I was sitting in the back row. So what? I still saw him. He was at my school. Not at yours. At  MINE. Be jealous. Or else.

    Maybe it was the distance between us (yes harty har har), but at first he seemed a lot like the guy who plays Gilani on GeoTV. I wondered whether they had sent a double instead. Any doubts were quickly removed when he addressed the audience. No mistaking that -howshallisayit- manner of speaking. I really think he should just speak in Urdu. The Turkish Head of State speaks in Turkish. Same goes for many other European leaders (as in they speak their native languages, not Turkish. That would be weird). But that’s a topic for another day. On with the post. Forward Russia!!

    Before I get ahead of myself, I must remind our readers why the PM was at Aitchison in the first place. If you’re a normal person*, you would already know. But I don’t mind bragging a little more about my school. You see it wasn’t just our school’s Annual (bi-annual now) Founder’s Day; it was our school’s 125^th Founder’s Day. In fact, the Principal, as well as the old boys, had organized an All-Star Weekend of sorts and snore snore snore….. Don’t want to bore anyone with the details. Back to the PM.

    When we last left our heroes, Gilani was addressing the audience at the Prize-Giving Ceremony on Founder’s Day. As he was approaching the podium, someone (a student) felt the need to shout out “Jiye Bhutto”. If Ayla remembers, he was also seen chanting a pro-PPP slogan at the MUN dinner last month. Really annoying. An ex-Aitchisonian gave the kid a piece of his mind. And rightly so - if politics was measured in gold (if it was measured at all, that is... “Politics measured?” you must be thinking - just go with the analogy puhlease), our school would be El Dorado. My point is that it’s really not the place to start chanting party slogans.

    After the PM delivered his well-written, badly orated and overall mundane speech, I started wondering whether seeing him live and close up (I got a closer look at the exhibit when it was being drawn away by a carriage) was really that big of a deal. No disrespect to our PRIME MINISTER, but he’s not very rush-inducing (maybe on the road when he stops traffic, but not in person anyway). I didn’t feel the same kind of rush that I felt when I saw Strings up close and LIVE (oh did you hear? They came back for an encore!)  What do you guys think? Is it a big deal? Also, while I’m asking questions, how does it make you feel that, throughout the article, I referred to Aitchison College as “our school”? I mean, for all I know, you might not be an Aitchisonian. More importantly, is Aitchison a school? Its 3 schools, yes. But is it A school? The name points towards the negatory.

    It wasn’t the best 125^th anniversary celebration that I’ll ever see. But so far it’s the only one. And I had, and still have, a lot of complaints about the weekend (I like to whine. A separate post should be put up soon regarding these complaints). But still, I’d like to wish our/my school/college a very Happy 125^th Birthday, even though it was on the 3^rd of November.

    Oh yeah and that Governor dude was there as well!

*normal person in this case means a person watching PTV on Sunday Morning. (they showed the entire thing on TV)

    I sense a (failed) rebuttal. Trying to cover up your trying to get back at me for my GoA post by bragging about your school (or whatever it is) and its anniversary didn’t work. HAHA. Better luck next time, sonny.

    On another note – well, no. Let us not get into talking about whocaresabouththePMgimmeMusharraf(or ImranKhan). <separate post scene>

Gentlemen of Aitchison (GoA) OR First Blood on Pride Wars

           Gentlemen of Aitchison; how can I say this without being offensive? I can’t. The innuendo-filled name was probably the only *insert positive word here* thing about the torturous three hours I wasted watching mediocre performances, on Thursday evening. You’d think that, in honor of the 125^th anniversary of their highly esteemed institution, these “gentlemen” would have put their best feet forward and come up with something EPIC. But alas, they did no such thing (sad face). The junior school performances can be overlooked, they can’t help but be forced into performing by their teachers, who choreographed (horribly) many a dances for them, and a skit addressing some major issues (dengue, the floods, and electricity shortage).

            Not all of it was that bad – some of the dances by the senior school boys were actually very good, but again, the skits, not so much. Not only did they live up to their reputation as the worst dramatics team in the whole of Lahore, they even managed to ruin a well-known, loved, old sitcom known for its hilarity: Everybody Loves Raymond. I don’t remember Robert having an effeminate voice, and being much shorter than Raymond. The boys playing the parents made a good effort, though. I don’t mean to target specific parts of the evening, but, the RIDICULOUS covers of She Will Be Loved and Apologize were too terrible for words. I mean it. These boys managed to make Ke$ha seem as perfect as Adele.

             However, the jazbaati AC “bwaiis” did make the night worthwhile (for themselves), by keeping up a constant stream of chants (“AC, AC, AC, AC!”), and I will admit, albeit reluctantly, that their passion, their loyalty, was heartwarming. I enjoyed watching them have fun more than I did watching the performances.

            Basically, I don’t get what all the hype was about. Honestly speaking, GoA bohat miss tha. Maybe next year, they’ll do better; but then again, they might not. One can only hope…

            Youjustaskedforalotoftroublelady.

            BUT, first blood to you. I concede defeat. You can’t have a chicken dance on your side, and then expect to come out victorious. But know this; I WILL BE BACK. You may have drawn first blood, but you shall lose the war. (AC, AC, AC, AC, Ac, ac, ac, ac…)

Long Weekend: Will the REAL Lahoris please... NOT LEAVE?!?!

Eid’s on Monday. You’ve probably done the math by now. If not, the following piece of information will make you go berserk: there are not three, not four, but FIVE consecutive holidays, this time (if you have Saturday school then I feel for you)!!
What’s that? You get it now? LONG WEEKEND!!!!!

You: FINALLY!!  I’ve waited all my life for this. Hamesha Eid Sunday ko ho jatee hai. This is awesome!

Me: Well no.

While I do concur with you when you say that the LONG WEEKEND is awesome, it’s not the first time it’s happened in your life. But everyone does act like it happens once in a blue moon. Just last year, for example, Eid-ul-Azha was on a Thursday *does math for a few seconds*. Haan. Tou kya bana? LONG WEEKEND! Moreover, statistics (from Zabihah or whatever those sites are called) show that this probably won’t be your last “Eid on long weekend”.  But I’m sure the next time it happens, you’ll have the same reaction.
At the mosque today, I noticed the sudden decrease in the number of Namazees (or as I shall call it from now on, Brother Strength). Nothing odd though, Brother Strength always decreases around Eid times. People go to their ancestral villages or whatever. Traffic cools down. There’s a mass exodus and what is left behind is just an Islamabad, only (still) cooler. It happens every year. Twice a year actually. Am I complaining? Maybe. It IS a little depressing.
And what do you say about the people who do leave? Are they less Lahori than someone like me, who gets his goat here every year?
That’s not for me to decide though. But it’s really annoying. For once can they NOT leave? Imagine how Eid would be like then? For one, there would be more blood on the streets. That’s not necessarily a bad thing right? It IS bakra blood after all. (Deykho Daniyal, these people need to celebrate Eid with their families. What if they are the only ones from their families living in Lahore, while the rest all live in Islamabad, for example? They’re not going to call the whole khaandan here, right? They’ll go to where the family is. Cut them some slack. *I'm going out of the city for Eid, too, so...*)

Leaving the randomness to that other one, Eid Mubarik to you (presumably the blogosphere and our readers), from me and Daniyal. We hope you have a fantastic Eid, and dont forget to remind all the elders that, Barri Eid bhi Eid hai, tou Eidi milni chahiye, gosht nahi (smiley).

The Dog and Pony Show (part 3) OR Death and All His Friends

The alternate name actually doesn’t make any sense. I just wanted to see how it felt to give something two names (my dad gave me 5, by the way: Muhammad Daniyal Farrukh Irfan Khan. Not complaining, though). So anyway, there wasn’t actually supposed to be a third part to The Dog and Pony Show, but some people (*hem hem*) actually lost sight of what the post was meant to be about. I guess you could call this Part 3 the High School Musical 3 of this blog; unplanned and easily avoidable, but ultimately, the only one that actually did its job (in HSM’s case, doing its job means making it to the big screen). We were supposed to promote our blog. Request you to come back. Again and again. Become fans. But we forgot. We’re narcissistic people you see. Self- obsessed. No wonder we’ve never been asked to write a “My Self” since the 2nd grade. (Note to Paella: Now you give them the details. How to become fans and comment and stuff. And tell them to come back regularly. And do not post this as part of the blog. I repeat. No, I don’t).

Okay, so no more Ms. Nice-Joking Guy. Let’s get technical.. I was supposed to ask you to follow our blog. There’s a box under the About Me, on which there is a button saying JOIN THIS SITE. Click on it. If you don’t have a blog of your own, fear not. Just use your gmail account. Works like magic. Once you’ve done that, come back and visit our blog again ad again. We’ll try to be as regular with posting, as possible. OH YEAH, only follow if you actually genuinely like the blog.

We’re not really trying to be funny, per se. We just ARE funny. Without trying. And we’re nice and down-to-earth. And we write about thingses one can relate to. So, you have no reason to NOT like this blog. So no reason to not follow. COME ON, click the button. You know you want to. The Dee-Dee in you is saying “Oooh, what does THIS button doooo?” Press it,  make Dee-Dee proud.. I’m waiting.

The Dog and Pony Show (part 2)

Ayla's turn.

(Commentary by Daniyal)

If you’re reading this after having read part 1 (as any normal person would) then I guess you saw something (Daniyal) in it which made you want to read on, to stay here and give what we have to say a chance. Here’s hoping this post doesn’t discourage you from becoming a fan.

            The whole point of this is to give you (the blogosphere) an idea of who we are, and what we are all about. It may be pointed out that that is what the About Me was for, but the About Me had a word limit, and anyone who knows me (only known her a week, but even I know this) knows I can’t stay within a limit (limit of what?) and say everything I wish to say on the topic at hand. It’s kind of impossible. So I came up with the idea of this sales-pitch, in two parts. One by myself, and the other by my more able (Word!!), to stay within a word limit, that is (what a let down), counterpart (counterpart? I thought we were partners).

            Enough explanations! Why do busses come in threes? I really want to know (would’ve told ya if you hadn’t said “enough explanations!”). Maybe it should be on my list of things I want to accomplish by starting this blog – finding the answer to why busses come in threes. (One day Aisles…. One day) Or do they come in twos? Something like that… I’m going to take this opportunity to establish my being anti-technology (despite the fact that technology gave birth to this blog), although I am particularly partial to my cell phone. And now the computer, aswell, as a result of having made this blog – of which the website-making expertise is my own, and the other stuff (she means genius) is Daniyal’s…

            Apart from that, I also wish the world was still somewhere between the late 1800s and early 1900s (you people couldn’t vote back then), till around the fifties (the world can’t be in 50 years at the same time) (or maybe it is because of that – I’m not really big on how fast technology is developing). I wish I was alive back then. Or in the sixties. The eighties ruled, though. THINK OF THE MUSIC (nostalgic wannabe)!!  Am I the only one in today’s day and age who is FASCINATED by airplanes? Fascinated to the point of being stupefied by them. And I’m not exaggerating the slightest bit! I cannot fathom how we were able to invent these flying machines (due to her A level subject selection)*. And how they stay up! And how hard and daunting a task it must be to fly planes. I wish I was a pilot. I still can be…     

             This is sounding more and more like a confused journal entry than an explanatory blog post. I’m not really selling the point of the blog very well (you aren’t even trying). Ah well, another challenge for another day’s post, I guess. Oh. Wait. It was the challenge for today’s… This is going to be hard. Not really. But maybe. Stick around, I promise the next one will be relatively saner (we can dream...).  Kthnxbaii

*(Literature, History and Thinking Skills. Physics would’ve given her the answer.)

The Dog and Pony Show (part 1)

Contributed by Daniyal.
(Commentary by Ayla)

            I wish I could name this blog something as random as “Saddam Hussein and Warren Barton” (4^th last chapter of Fever Pitch) (isn't it already pretty random?). But not everyone is Nick Hornby. Despite his awesomeness, I’m still a United fan (HEY, so am i!). Random things are amazing (like this blog of ours…).  But everything can’t be random. Because then nothing would be random. Similarly, not everyone can be Lemony Snickett and say “I sincerely advise you to walk away from this book”. If everyone said that….well,  you get the pattern. It is with that in mind that I urge you to please give this blog a chance (I second that motion). You’ve gotten till here. You might as well read on. Come on.          

I don’t know many quotes by heart (I know a lot… Balance ho ga). Dad sends one by text every morning (naice). Still, I prefer making up own quotes (point kya raha, phir?). Here’s one of my most recent ones: “There’s more to life than what you can put in a college application.” If you haven’t gotten to A2 yet, don’t worry. You’ll realize soon enough where I’m coming from (sense-making *nods knowingly*).

If this were an MUN study guide (but you don’t MUN. I do), I’d tell you that I’m different from the rest of mankind in that I love to eat and sleep (found something we have in common!). But it’s really hard to eat and sleep simultaneously (trust me, I’ve tried…). So whoever claims that they love to eat and sleep, they’re bullcrapping.

Coming back to the randoms (never left them), this blog isn’t random at all. Or won’t be in the future at least. What may look like a couple of random articles written by bored teenagers who have nothing to do (you just learnt the definition of the word “bored”. Yes we educate as well), might well be the start of something new. In fact I can guarantee that this is the start of something new (per se). Because it clearly isn’t the start of something old (point).

If you’re as confused as a desi mexican, don’t be. Just wait for a second. Think about why you’re confused. And then, just choose not to be (Just do it… Nike).                               

You really thought that would work didn’t you (hahahahaha gotcha)? Wow dude trust me, you need to keep reading. But only if you found the fact that you were just fooled to be pleasant. If you’re angry at how gullible you are (it happens to everyone, once in a while), don’t be. Just wait for a second… No, I won’t do it again. I’m not that evil (he really isn’t).                   

That, is basically me (well, there is more to you…). Or what I am right now (that’s more like it!). Which may or may not be the same person I will be at the end of this sentence (stop confusing them!). Doesn’t really matter. Just try to enjoy yourself. And don’t play with the toy so much that it breaks (which is not to say that our blog is all fun and games, because it isn’t… At least, not at the moment…).