This post is for National Blog Posting Month, which was brought to my attention by the lovely and hilarious Essaytch. They have something different every month and for April, the objective is to write a letter a day for a month. I’m obviously not writing a letter a day but I’m participating anyway.
And I’m sneaking in two more before this month is over, just to be more of a “participant.” Because 2 is kind of weak. So is 4, but hey, that qualifies as a “handful,” which is all I wanted to write.
Dear Lit-class Girl,
You probably remember me, but I’m not too sure. You were in a couple of my Lit. classes with me last year. “British Literature after 1800,” and “British Literature before 1800” the very next semester. Both the classes were held in the same room, and you sat in the middle each semester. I thought you were kind of cute.
You didn’t speak up much — barely, actually — but when you did, it was pretty intelligent, insightful stuff. You had a pleasant voice. You sat next to this kind of annoying guy in the second semester class. But you were always super nice to him the few times he said anything to you. You genuinely conversed with him, when most everyone in the class (myself included) might have conversed just long enough not to be rude — at the most.
But yeah, I wanted to ask you out or get your number, or something. And believe me, I’m strongly against getting involved in a relationship at this current stage in life. I think it will just add unnecessary complications and yet another responsibility on my relatively overloaded plate. But…I thought it would be wise to make an exception with you.
There was an assignment where we had to go see a live performance of Shakespeare and write a paper on it. I figured it was a perfect opportunity to ask you out. But then I figured…what if you umm…respectfully declined? Our class was pretty small and it would be an awkward rest of the semester if I failed.
So I scrapped that plan and targeted the last day, after our final. I’d get done quickly and wait for you to finish, and strike up a conversation then. If it didn’t work out, no awkwardness. Life goes on. What are the odds that we would have the same class a third semester in a row? And I was fairly confident it’d work out…I was pretty sure I caught you looking over at me a few times.
Well, the final exam, an in-class essay, came along and lo and behold, it was pretty damn tough for me. I saw you finish up and then aimlessly flip through back and forth, checking and double-checking, and half-heartedly checking yet again. I can almost swear you glanced over at me a couple times…like you were waiting for me.
I started scribbling as fast as I could. But after about half an hour of checking, you finally let out a small sigh, turned in your test, and walked out. I kicked it into overdrive and finished my essay in the next five minutes and rushed out. But you were already gone. The next semester, I never saw you on campus. I concluded you transferred out.
Well, assuming my hopeful reading of the situation was right, I just wanted to tell you that I wasn’t avoiding you that last day. I didn’t mean to keep you waiting. In fact, I was doing everything in my power to get out and eagerly risk making a fool out of myself in front of you.
I kind of regret not taking that opportunity to watch some Shakespeare with you. (I ended up just watching a film version instead, like most everyone in the class.) Now I’ll probably never know what would’ve happened. If I ever do run into you again, I can guarantee I’ll ask you out. Maybe we’ll go watch some Shakespeare.
Regretfully not yours,
Every college I’ve applied to have given me a reply…except you. You say you’ll give me a reply by the 1st of June!? Well, I’ve got news for you. That’s when everybody else wants me to decide by! I’m sure you can see why that’s a problem.
Now, I’ve been slaving away, working, taking time off, and willing myself through school the past several years to have this opportunity to transfer out to a fine school like yours. This time right now is what all that work has built up to.
You know, I’ve heard stories of the stuck-up, spoiled, elitist atmosphere at your school. But I’ve also heard the faculty is great, the education is top-notch, and your reputation is that of a pretty highly regarded and respected institution. And the few USC people I know seem all right to me.
But most important of all, you guys have some very deep pockets and have shown you are willing to dig down into those pockets to pay for A LOT of the education of your students. It is quite likely that you will help me out more than the other stingier (or simply not similarly funded) schools that I’m considering.
So please…PLEASE…can you let me know your answer a couple weeks before June 1st? I’m not even asking for one decision over the other (although I do have a preference). I just want an answer so I can make my decision. I know it’s possible. Your telephone counselor told me so. I’m begging you. Please.
Sincerely (and anxiously),
Songs of the Day: