I now have some options. I just got the letter from V (via email) and I’m in!
I’m still waiting on a few schools, but it sure does feel good to have options and to get into another great program.
Decisions, decisions. Of course I wanted to get into V…I just don’t love making decisions when both options are great.
(And in case you are wondering which other program I got into, it’s the university that I work for, currently…my fear of Google keeps me from posting any actual names).
I met Megan and Steven while living in Europe. At the time, they were not “Megan and Steven” but just Megan, and just Steven. Megan and I hit it off. I don’t remember my very first impression of Steven, but I do remember that (for some reason unbeknown to me…and quite out of character) I loved trying to get his goat. Weird.
Anyway, eight years later, Megan and Steven have been “Megan and Steven” for quite some time and they have the sweetest little girls in the world. These are the people I stayed with in Nashville, and regardless of how things had gone at V (thankfully, they went well), the trip would have been worth it just to see them. It had been about four years since I last saw them. They were still living in Utah, with their babies (the girls are twins), figuring out what to do with their lives. Funny how things change, but don’t.
I hope you are all lucky enough to have such wonderful friends. I was the slightest bit apprehensive about inviting myself to stay with them (but not enough to not do it), but Megan was so gracious that I knew I’d be welcome…and welcome I was. From my late arrival Friday night, to my need to attend Weight Watchers Saturday morning, braving the freezing cold so I could see Nashville,
homemade pasta, 
a super-late-night conversation Saturday night (poor Megan couldn’t stay awake), Aebelskiver on Sunday (they make good on their blog promises),
the ride to my school visit and back to the airport, I could not have asked for nicer hosts. Add to that the fact that I absolutely love these people, and I was in heaven. I could talk to either of them for hours (and I did)…and I adore their little girls.
They are such great parents, because truly no child is on good behavior for three days straight.
And even after a number of years of semi-sporadic contact, our relationship picked up right where it had left off (only maybe a bit better since Megan and I joined the world of blogging). In any case, this weekend was exactly what I needed. It gave me some much needed and appreciated perspective on life. And it gave me time to fall in love with Nashville…even if it was freezing.
I love that I have realized that my life really is a beautifully orchestrated series of events that align in such a way as to make the lowest lows bearable and the highest highs appreciated.
I heard from T today. I was denied. My number one choice for so long rejected me. But it wasn’t all that painful, surprisingly (and being rejected from a graduate program would never make my “lowest lows” list). First of all, it simplified my decision. Fewer choices, less fear and risk of choosing the “wrong” one (I really don’t think any of the schools I applied to would be “wrong”). But more than that, the interview at V made me realize that a) I probably wouldn’t get into T, as my interview was probably even worse than I had first thought and b) I actually like V just a little better. So, it’s not as highly ranked. I still like it better, for various reasons.
And that is why it was so perfect that I heard from T today, after V, after B. I love that my life works this way. Maybe every life could be like this, if people chose to hear the beauty of the dissonant chords.
I have lots to blog about from this weekend, but as most of it would be enhanced by the pictures that I have yet to download, I’m going to stick to the one thing that does not require pictures.
I flew to Nashville Friday night for an admissions interview at V on Monday (if you do a little search with the city and MBA, you’ll satisfy your curiosity). Over the course of my two flights (connecting through Chicago), I started to freak out just a little. In fact, freak out maybe a little extreme. I started to doubt. I started to think about my 17-year-old thoughts of being a dermatologist, and while I have no desire to got to med-school, it made me think. Is business what I really want to do? What kind of stress and pressure is my future career going to hold? Can I really do this and be successful? Etc, etc.
You would think that I would have nailed down this decision with absolute surety given the 100s of hours I have put into the research, application and interview process. But, no. The doubt crept in, which led to a little anxiety. Granted, I have proven to myself that I am willing to interrupt my life and completey change course when I feel like a chosen path is not the right one for me, but the thought of turning my back on all of the work I have done, the contacts I have made, the money my dad (yes, I’m totally spoiled) has spent on the process…well, it was enough to make me freak out just a little.
I spent most of the weekend with this on my mind. I had a great conversation with my friends about my thoughts and concerns, but I think I spoke as a person who was much more sure about her decision than I really was. And then add to that the decision about which school to attend…I was a little overwhelmed.
And then I went in for my interview on Monday. I was a little nervous, although the beauty of doubting my overall decision was there was this little part of me that thought, “Well, if this doesn’t go well, maybe that’s my answer.” It kind of took the pressure off.
The interview went really well. So well that I realized that my interview at T was probably even worse that I had thought. I knew it wasn’t great, but…it really wasn’t great. During the interview, I felt myself getting so excited about all of the things we were discussing. This was the beginning of the calm that was coming.
It was during my class visit, though, that complete and total reassurance came. I was sitting in Sales, Promotions and Personal Selling with my student host. The class was discussing a case: foil and plastic wrap. I was in heaven. As the professor asked a question, I responded with a head nod. He then called on me to share my thoughts, since I was obviously having some. So I did. In that moment, all of my doubts were gone.
Yes, business school will push me. For once, I will be doing something where I will really have to work my tail off. I’m sure there will be days and nights when I question everything again, but for now, I’m so excited! And even though I have not yet decided where I’m going (especially since I have yet to receive many acceptance and rejection letters), I cannot wait for September.
Me: So, I didn’t get into M.
Erika: Yeah, but you knew you weren’t going to get in. Did you see 30 Rock this week? You need to watch it.
Me: Hello! We’re talking about me. And I know that I knew I wasn’t going to get in, but it still hurts. I don’t think I’ve ever been rejected like this before.
Erika: I’m sorry I don’t really feel bad for you. I’ve received lots of rejections letters. Plus, I have my own tragedies to deal with. Apparently, I left my window down and Gus decided to fly in and rain on me…well, my bathroom. (Gus is the cloud that is normally hanging over Erika, but occasionally ventures out to other members of my family).
Me: What? Gus rained on your bathroom? I don’t understand.
Erika: The guy upstairs left the faucet on in his bathroom and it leaked through my ceiling and no one noticed until the water hit the lobby. (Erika lives on the ninth floor).
Me: Yeah, but that’s not your fault. That was the guy upstairs’ fault. Getting rejected from M was my fault.
Erika: But don’t you see, that’s what makes my situation so much worse. I didn’t do anything. You are the one that screwed up your chances of getting into M.
Me: Can’t I get a little empathy for the rejection?
Erika: I can’t actually empathize, as I have never been rejected from M. Remember, I got in.
Me: You are not nice.
Erika: But you knew you weren’t going to get in. I distinctly remember you calling after the interview and saying something about how, after such a horrible interview, you wouldn’t even accept you.
Me: So, that doesn’t change the fact that it hurts.
Erika: You didn’t want to go to M anyway. The business school is ugly and everyday, as you walked past the beautiful law school, you would think to yourself, “If only I was as smart as my sister, Erika, I could have gone to M’s Law School.”
Me: Erika, I couldn’t even get into their business school, which isn’t nearly as good as their law school.
Erika: I know…ha ha ha…and I got into their law school. You really are a reject. (laughter that made the rest of what she said incomprehensible)
Me: You are so mean. You just called me a reject.
Erika: Yep. Neener, neener.
Me: Did you just say “neener, neener”?
Erika: Yes.
Me: I’m in throws of pain and woe and you just said “neener, neener”?
Erika: Chloe, you have to understand. This may be the only time in my life I get to rub it in your face that I was better than you.
Me: (yelling in mock anger) Eff you, Erika. Eff you!!!
Erika: (once she stopped laughing long enough to speak) You really need to watch 30 Rock.
Me: Fine. Thanks for nothing. Bye.
Erika: Bye.
Welcome to my family…which is why I also have friends.
Unlike my sister’s response, Sarah’s was totally appropriate (and equally funny). The text message:
“I’m sorry! No matter what, rejection sucks. It’s the ugly boy who you want to reject first. Who needs an ugly boy?”
And Candice has decided to hate the state of M with me.
ETA: Really, I am fine with it. It was interesting to read a rejection letter for the first time ever in my life, but I really did know that I wasn’t going to get in (it was the worst interview ever) and even had I been accepted, I wasn’t planning to go there anyway. It was more about me seeing if I could get in than wanting to go there.
existential dilemmas 