essay woes

22 Nov


You should probably consider accepting me to this prestigious society because I’m a pretty dang creative individual with some unique talents, such as the ability to trip over microphone cords, lead a group of bemused and confused people around both New Orleans AND Paris, and make myself understood in Italy, France, and the states south of the Mason-Dixon line with very few sarcastic “y’all”s included.

I am a versatile person. I act, I am musically inclined, I can hold up my end of a conversation about Led Zeppelin, I can draw pretty well, I plant trees in my spare time, I am a Scrabble android, and I instantly can make any conversation, no matter how  mundane, ear-bustingly awkward.

 Okay, real essay now.

 I don’t like writing about myself, as it makes me seem like something that last time I checked I am definitely not. I am not some grandiose exclamation of fabulosity. I am not an uber-artist capable of rendering glorious landscapes with a flick of a brush. (Actually, I hate landscapes. Hate them!) I am not a musician that routinely writes songs and has the voice of an angel. I am not an A student. I am barely a B+ student. I do not work, I am lazy, and I would rather like it if no one would remind me because every time someone does it is like a stake to the chest. And, in case you didn’t figure that one out, that hurts.

So went the first two drafts of my mandated NHS self-selling application essay. God, I hate writing this sort of thing. I did write some bullshit about how great I was in the end, but it was a long road, painful and full of potholes…

…okay, it took me fifteen minutes, ten minutes more than it would’ve taken me to write something more charismatic and original.

But I digress. I suppose college applications will be hell for me next year, haha!



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