![[personal profile]](http://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
troubleAfter having a nap and eating something (and then chocolate) I put back on my "I'm not a failure, I have just not yet succeeded!" hat and went to the coffee shop to fill out transcript request forms.
My life is so exciting, I know.
I feel like putting in big capital letters across the transcript request to Augustana "No really, this is very serious, I'm applying to a university in Toronto". Canadian regionalism raises its ugly head again. Yes, yes, I've actually toned down my Toronto = Evil rhetoric since leaving AUC. (And since actually visiting Toronto I've realised that perhaps, just perhaps, Toronto is not quite as bad as my parents - my mother a staunch Tory in the oldest sense of the word, my father a bitter bitter ex-CCF member - have led me to believe.)
It was a bit funny filling out the part of the application that asks how many languages I've taken and successfully completed at least one year of university in. That's French (of course), Latin, Archaic Greek, and Mandarin. When the zombiepocalypse comes for us all, I'll go seeking out those reciting Homeric Hymns to eat my braaaaains. (And how sad are my language skills that I don't know what Zombies would say in Latin, Archaic Greek, French, or Madarin?)
I hate this process entirely. I don't have exam anxiety, I have application anxiety. I spend so much time panicking about applications that it's a bit on the ridiculous end. Ah well. At least I am ably supported by my many friends. ♥
PS: Credit card, please hurry up and clear so I can spend nearly $300 on application fees. No love, Anna
My life is so exciting, I know.
I feel like putting in big capital letters across the transcript request to Augustana "No really, this is very serious, I'm applying to a university in Toronto". Canadian regionalism raises its ugly head again. Yes, yes, I've actually toned down my Toronto = Evil rhetoric since leaving AUC. (And since actually visiting Toronto I've realised that perhaps, just perhaps, Toronto is not quite as bad as my parents - my mother a staunch Tory in the oldest sense of the word, my father a bitter bitter ex-CCF member - have led me to believe.)
It was a bit funny filling out the part of the application that asks how many languages I've taken and successfully completed at least one year of university in. That's French (of course), Latin, Archaic Greek, and Mandarin. When the zombiepocalypse comes for us all, I'll go seeking out those reciting Homeric Hymns to eat my braaaaains. (And how sad are my language skills that I don't know what Zombies would say in Latin, Archaic Greek, French, or Madarin?)
I hate this process entirely. I don't have exam anxiety, I have application anxiety. I spend so much time panicking about applications that it's a bit on the ridiculous end. Ah well. At least I am ably supported by my many friends. ♥
PS: Credit card, please hurry up and clear so I can spend nearly $300 on application fees. No love, Anna
